Married to the Don, My Ex Won’t Stop Begging Chapter 08

Married to the Don, My Ex Won’t Stop Begging Chapter 08

Matteo laughed. 

“Sorry. This is my fiancée’s place. Not exactly an option 

for me. And as far as relationships go, you’re the one who 

should get lost.” 

“So you finally figured it out? Done with the whole ‘I owe her my life‘ routine? What is this, the eighteenth century? 

Who the hell marries someone out of gratitude? That’s 

pathetic. It’s weak.” 

Dante lunged forward. My guards intercepted him before 

he got close. 

“What’s between me and Tina is none of your business!” 

I was tired. 

My eyes, heavy with exhaustion, fixed on Dante. 

“What do you actually want? An apology? To confess your sins? Whatever it is, it doesn’t matter. You know me. Those 

three seconds were your last chance.” 

“I don’t keep disloyal dogs.” 

I turned and walked away. 

Matteo stood up and trailed after me, still shirtless and smirking. 

rage. 

“Duty calls.” 

“Gotta go warm the fiancée’s bed.” 

Dante’s head throbbed. He nearly blacked out from the 

The bedroom door slammed behind me. 

Matteo rubbed his nose where he almost got hit. He didn’t seem bothered. 

He just chuckled and walked back to his own room. 

Early the next morning, Matteo was gone. 

“Mr. Santoro said the bride and groom can’t see each other three days before the wedding. He left at dawn.” 

I smiled but didn’t argue. 

The next three days were quiet. Almost peaceful. 

Except for the endless wedding dress fittings. 

I genuinely didn’t know where Matteo had sourced the lace and silk. They were impossibly delicate. Nothing like the 

usual. 

The gown was pure white satin embroidered with intricate beadwork. The veil stretched three yards. The train was stitched with hand–sewn pearls. 

“You like this vintage style, don’t you? I had them working on it in Milan for eight months.” 

I glanced at the craftsmanship. I knew how much effort 

this took. 

That dress alone was an eight–month project. 

“You were that confident I’d say yes?” 

On the other end of the line, Matteo went quiet. 

Rare. 

“I wasn’t.” 

“If you said yes, it was a wedding gift. If you didn’t… then it was just something beautiful for your future. For whoever you chose.” 

“Tina, do you believe I really love you?” 

I answered honestly. 

“I don’t know.” 

It was true. 

Five years of gifts. Day after day, adding more and more. 

But the Luciano family was wealthy. Everything Matteo offered was thoughtful, sure. But proving your heart with things was too flimsy. 

It wasn’t that I didn’t have them. 

I wanted something rarer. Something crazier. 

Dante didn’t bother me again. I assumed he’d accepted 

reality. 

Word came that he’d sent Genevieve away. The marriage 

proposal had quietly vanished too. 

The wedding day. 

White silk draped around me. 

Dante showed up. 

He bent low in front of me. 

“A brother is supposed to walk the bride.” 

“Tina, let me send you off.” 

The long red carpet stretched ahead. 

I’d walked this path a hundred times. But never like this. 

For once, I let something soften in my chest. I took his arm and let him lead me forward. 

“I didn’t think you’d come.” 

“I always thought this was how I’d marry you. Five years later, you’re the one giving me away.” 

Dante dropped his head. 

All he could answer was a whisper. 

“I’m sorry.” 

I poked his back. “Forget it. I don’t hate you anymore.” 

Matteo was waiting by the wedding car. 

Tradition. The groom picks up the bride. 

He held my shoes, ready for me to change and climb in. 

The moment my foot touched the ground- 

Dante moved. 

A blade flashed. 

He pressed the edge against Matteo’s throat. A thin line of 

blood welled up.