He Rewrote My Marriage Contract for His Uncle—So I Became the Real Donna Chapter 07

He Rewrote My Marriage Contract for His Uncle—So I Became the Real Donna Chapter 07

Three days after the wedding, I ordered the news leaked. Lucien was getting remarried. 

The bride wasn’t the daughter of a founding family or the niece of some senator. She was a nobody. A stray with no pedigree. 

The story ripped through high society like wildfire. Everyone in these circles understood the unspoken rules – men could keep mistresses, rotate lovers, do whatever they wanted behind closed doors. 

But the moment a marriage contract touched inheritance rights, pedigree stopped being optional. Lucien had already made himself a joke by treating his engagement like a game for years. Now, word that he was marrying an orphan made him the single most laughable man in the city. 

The gossip spread through banquets, country–club brunches, and private gaming rooms. “The Vale heir has completely lost it.” “Who in their right mind would marry their daughter to a man who treats a marriage contract like a joke?” 

The whispers reached the old Don inside of a week. Lucien was placed under house arrest the next morning. 

The Patriarch announced publicly that he’d negotiate a new match for his son. But after everything that had happened, Lucien was radioactive. 

No one was stupid. Pledging a daughter to a man who’d blown up his own wedding was like volunteering your family for disaster. 

One family eventually came forward. But when the Vales looked into it, the daughter turned out to be – while not plain–looking – severely cognitively impaired. She couldn’t recognize faces. She couldn’t hold a conversation. 

If Lucien married her, he’d never recover. The laughter in every drawing room in the city only grew louder. 

I was having espresso with my best friend when I heard. She studied me for a long time before she finally spoke. 

“Violet, I thought your endgame was going to be 

making him realize how stupid he was to let you go.” She paused. “But this isn’t that. What you’re doing – this is a complete demolition.” 

I glanced at her and smiled. “You thought my ultimate revenge was watching him crawl back to me, begging for a second chance?” 

She nodded. “That’s how most people would expect it to play out.” 

I shook my head. “And then what?” 

“A man who never loved you, who looked down on you, who humiliated you is he really going to start cherishing you just because he lost you?” 

“He won’t. What he’s feeling right now isn’t love. It’s 

just the bruised ego of losing a possession he thought would always be there.” 

“He’s not heartbroken. He’s furious that his favorite 

toy got up and walked off the shelf.” 

“How much is that kind of regret actually worth?” 

My friend went quiet. 

I looked up. “What I wanted was never for him to come crawling back.” 

“I want him to choke on his own ruin. I want him to be 

whispered about, looked down on, torn apart by the 

same people who used to bow to him. I want him to lose 

his footing in this city and never find it again.” 

“I want him to watch everything slip out of his hands, piece by piece, and be entirely paralyzed to stop it.” 

She stared at me for a long moment, and then an actual shiver ran through her. “You’re really not leaving him 

any way out this time.” 

I smiled. I didn’t answer. She was right, and we both 

knew it. 

What came next didn’t disappoint. After two weeks 

under house arrest with his reputation in ashes, Lucien 

broke. 

He went to the Patriarch himself and volunteered for 

the smuggling port in Bayville – the filthiest, most violent outpost on the border, the kind of posting 

nobody took unless they had no other move left. 

On paper, it was a training assignment. In reality, it 

was a death sentence with extra steps. 

I was having tea in the sunroom when the capo came in, his expression odd. 

“Donna, there’s a man at the gate. Says it’s urgent. 

Insists on seeing you.” 

“Who is it?” 

“He says he’s Serena’s husband.” 

My hand went still on the teacup. The sunroom fell 

quiet. 

A few minutes later, they brought him in. Badly dressed, eyes feverish and wild. He dropped to his 

knees the second he crossed the threshold and started 

bawling. 

“Donna, you have to help me! Lucien took my wife – 

spent a fortune keeping her, bought her houses, 

jewelry – and now the whole world knows, and I can’t show my face anywhere!” 

No one in the room moved. 

“Serena is married?” 

“She’s been married for years!” The man was sobbing hysterically. “She hated me for being broke, so she started chasing rich men. Lucien’s the biggest fool of all – bankrolled her whole life and didn’t even know she had a husband waiting at home!” 

So the great love story was a scam. Start to finish, Serena had been playing Lucien like a mark. The 

orphan with no name wasn’t some tragic romantic heroine – she was a parasite who’d picked the easiest target in the room. 

When the news broke, the city’s reaction made every previous scandal look like a warm–up. This time, Lucien couldn’t even claim he’d been driven mad by love. He was just a fool who’d been conned. 

He found out the night before he was supposed to leave for Bayville, and I heard he lost it completely. 

Nobody could hold him back. He got his hands around Serena’s throat and strangled her right there. 

By the time the guards broke down the door, the floor was a mess of overturned bottles and shattered jewelry. 

Serena was already gone. 

I didn’t so much as blink when they told me. It wasn’t 

just karma–it was inevitable. 

He’d been a day away from exile. Now he was headed to 

prison first. 

The Vale family didn’t lift a finger for him. Not this time. 

The day they took him away, Lucien sent me one last 

message. 

[If I’d stayed with you back then, would things be different now?] 

I never saw it. I’d blocked his number weeks ago. 

And at that exact moment, my phone had barely buzzed before someone reached over from behind and plucked it from my hand. Dante leaned down, his lips at my ear, his voice slow and amused. 

“We’ve been married less than a month, and your mind is wandering?” 

I laughed and turned to look at him. “I wasn’t.” 

“You’d better not.” 

Before I could say another word, he scooped me off the sofa. I grabbed at his shoulder, half–laughing, 

half–scolding him under my breath. 

“You’re relentless, you know that?” 

He swallowed the rest of my words. 

The phone lay on the table, its screen dimming to 

black. The unread message sat there, glowing faintly, 

and it never got an answer. 

As Dante carried me down the hall, a smile crept across 

my face slow, satisfied, and carved in stone. 

Regret? Fury? The complete, irreversible collapse of everything he’d built? 

Let him have all of it. 

My reign had only just begun.