My Ex Told Me to Get Married? Too Bad I Had Married His Uncle! Chapter 01

My Ex Told Me to Get Married? Too Bad I Had Married His Uncle! Chapter 01

“Vivian. Five days from now. Be there to sign the marriage license.”

“Hill Estate. I promised you the wedding of a lifetime — and I’m keeping my word.”

I stared at my phone. Dante Lucchesi couldn’t be serious.

“We ended that five years ago.”

He laughed — low and careless, like I’d said something adorable.

“Called it off?” Another laugh. “I never agreed to that.”

“You heard about the wedding and came running back?”

“Relax — you’re still the bride. But Sienna’s been with me for five years now. I’d like to think you’re done throwing a fit.”

“Once we’re married, I expect you to make peace with her.”

I hung up.

The nerve of this man.

I married his uncle, Vincent Lucchesi. I had Vincent’s children. I was already the donna of the Lucchesi family — the real one.

I threw Dante out once. I wasn’t about to go dumpster-diving for trash.

The phone wouldn’t stop buzzing. I silenced it and tossed it on the sofa.

Two in the morning. Someone started hammering on the front door.

“Vivian! Open the goddamn door! Are you done with this little act?”

I yanked the door open.

Dante fist was still raised — he stumbled forward, nearly clipping my shoulder.

He caught his balance and looked me over.

Black silk slip. Hair down. Bare face.

His gaze swept past me into the room. He scoffed.

“This is the dump you’ve been living in since you left?”

I didn’t bother answering. He pushed right past me.

“Look — you’re back now. I’m willing to let the past slide.”

“But you owe Sienna an apology.”

His voice hardened.

“That slap — you crossed a line.”

“I wouldn’t have made it through these five years without her. She’s bent over backward trying to appease you, Vivian.”

“When you officially join the Famiglia, I need you to stop turning everything into a war.”

“You’ll have the title. You’ll be donna. But you leave her alone.”

A laugh cracked out of me — the kind that only comes when you’re too furious to do anything else.

A side piece who weaponized her tears to claw her way up. And somehow, coming out of Dante’s mouth, she sounded like a saint.

I met his eyes.

“What makes you think I’d ever marry you, Dante?”

I let the silence sit for a beat.

“And who said I’m still single?”

His eyes flicked to my bare left hand. A sneer pulled at his mouth.

“All of Chicago knows you’re mine, Vivian.”

“You’ve had that temper since we were kids. Nobody else would deal with your shit.”

“And let’s be honest — the Moretti name doesn’t carry the weight it used to.”

“Who else would have you?”

I smiled, eyes on the floor.

Our engagement had been the biggest power alliance Chicago’s underworld had seen in years.

The Morettis ran the eastern port shipping lanes. The Lucchesis controlled the casinos, the arms pipeline, and the shadow banks.

Everyone called it the perfect alliance.

It was arranged, but what we had felt real.

He’d pulled me close on the highest terrace of Hill Estate once and made a promise.

“When I take over as Don, I’ll give you the biggest wedding this city has ever seen.”

Then he hit a civilian during an underground street race. Sienna Vale’s grandmother.

In her final moments, she begged him to look after her only granddaughter.

So Dante brought Sienna home.

From that day on, she wound herself into every corner of my life — and I could never pry her loose.

She wore my jewelry. Sat in my chair. Gave the soldiers orders in my name.

Then she destroyed the one thing I couldn’t forgive — the blue diamond brooch my mother left me.

I slapped her across the face.

And Dante — Dante pulled her behind him, right there in front of the whole Commission.

“She has nobody, Vivian. Can’t you just cut her some slack?”

“She’s practically a kid. That’s it.”

“You’re going to be donna. Why do you have to stoop so low as to bully someone like her?”

After that, he told me to “cool off.”

His idea of cooling off was taking Sienna to every banquet, every sit-down, for three straight months.

By the end of it, all of Chicago was whispering that Dante had a new fiancée.

So I called off the engagement and left.

I met Vincent in Cresthaven.

Dante’s uncle — and the man who actually ran the Lucchesi empire.

He sat dead center at a private auction and won the bid on my mother’s blue diamond brooch — the same one that had been missing for years.

“My nephew isn’t worthy of a Moretti daughter.”

“But the real donna of the Lucchesi family was always going to be you.”

On our wedding day, he slid the black diamond ring onto my finger himself — the one only the donna of each generation is allowed to wear.

After that, the inner circle of the Outfit knew.

I was Vincent’s. The real donna of the Lucchesi family.

“What the hell is so funny?”

Dante’s jaw tightened.

I blinked out of the memory. “You, Dante. I’m laughing at you.”

He gave me a look — the kind that said he’d known it all along.

“Same old Vivian. Stubborn as ever.”

“Doesn’t matter. After the wedding, you’ll get over it.”

He reached for my face.

I drove my heel into his instep.

The door slammed shut between us hard enough to rattle the frame.

I pressed my back against it and spoke through the wood.

“Dante.”

My voice was steady.

“Pray you don’t piss me off again before Vincent gets back to Chicago.”