My Ex Told Me to Get Married? Too Bad I Had Married His Uncle! Chapter 05

My Ex Told Me to Get Married? Too Bad I Had Married His Uncle! Chapter 05

The second Vincent’s voice cut through the air, the entire auditorium went still-like every throat

in the room had been squeezed shut at once.

He wore a black suit, his coat draped over one arm. The Lucchesi consigliere and two enforcers

followed half a step behind him.

No one moved to stop him. The color drained from Dante’s face, slow and absolute.

His gaze snapped between Vincent and me, something cracking open behind his eyes.

“No.”

“That’s impossible.” His voice splintered. “Vivian, he forced you

He was shaking, but he clung to the lie. “You’ve always loved me.”

“You only married him to get back at me. Right?”

I didn’t say a word.

–

didn’t he?”

Vincent was already beside me. His hand settled at the small of my back like it belonged there, drawing me and the children into the shelter of his body. The two little ones latched onto his legs

without hesitation.

“Daddy!”

That one word crushed whatever was left of Dante.

I met his eyes. “Dante, we ended the day I walked out five years ago.”

“I married Vincent because I wanted to.”

“I’m the donna of the Lucchesi family now.”

“You should be addressing me as your aunt.”

Vincent let out a low laugh, his fingers tightening gently at my waist.

Red veins stood out in Dante’s eyes. “I don’t believe it!”

He jabbed a finger toward the children, voice cracking high. “Prove it!”

The older boy ducked behind Vincent’s leg, peeking out with half his face. “Daddy, that man is

really scary.”

The little one scrunched up his nose and pointed a tiny finger at Dante. “He keeps yelling at Mommy. That’s mean.”

Vincent glanced down at them, voice barely above a murmur. “That’s because nobody taught him any better.”

A muffled laugh rippled through the crowd – and died just as quickly.

Sienna’s face was the color of ash, but she wasn’t done. She lunged for Dante’s arm, tears streaming, words spilling out.

“Dante, she’s doing this on purpose! She dragged the kids here, she dragged Vincent here – all to

humiliate you in front of everyone. She just can’t stand that she lost to me!”

Vincent’s gaze lifted to her. “What did you just call my wife?”

Sienna froze mid-breath.

–

Dante stepped in front of her on instinct. “Uncle – Sienna didn’t mean it. She’s the bride today.

She’s overwhelmed.”

Vincent looked at him, and there was nothing behind those eyes. No warmth, no anger –

winter.

“You called my children bastards. In my estate.”

“And you let your woman disrespect my donna.”

“Dante – is this the respect your father taught you?”

only

The words were barely out before Dante’s father shouldered his way out of the crowd, face already drained white. He’d been entertaining a few of the old capos on the far side and had caught only the tail end of it as he rushed over.

“Don Vincent.” He lowered his head, voice tight as wire. “I failed to teach him properly.”

Dante whipped around. “Dad, what are you doing? He’s just my uncle-”

The slap sent Dante’s head sideways. Blood beaded at the corner of his mouth before he’d even registered the sting.

His father’s voice came out low and savage. “Shut your mouth.”

“You insulted the donna and the young heirs on their own ground. Do you want to drag our entire

crew down with you?”

Sienna was so terrified she forgot to cry.

Dante pressed a hand to his face, and something shifted in his eyes – the anger guttering out,

replaced by the first real flicker of panic. He finally understood.

This wasn’t a lovers’ quarrel. This was hierarchy. This was power. Vincent could erase him from the

Lucchesi succession with a single word.

Vincent looked at Dante.

“Kneel.”

The word was almost casual – tossed out like spare change

tossed out like spare change — but Dante’s legs buckled under the

weight of it.

He locked his jaw and stayed standing, stubborn to the last.

The enforcer behind Vincent shifted forward. Dante’s father grabbed his son’s shoulder and shoved

him down hard.

“Kneel!”

Dante’s knees cracked against the stone floor.

His wedding suit was still perfectly pressed under the chandelier light, but the handprint swelling

across his cheek told the real story. His head dropped, and the words ground out through his teeth.

“Don Vincent. Donna Vivian.”

“I was blind.”

“Forgive my disrespect.”

I looked down at the man kneeling in front of me.

Five years ago, he’d stripped me of every shred of dignity in front of all of Chicago. Now he knelt in

my estate, in front of my guests, and called me donna.

I didn’t tell him to get up.

“Apologize to my children.”

His head snapped up. The humiliation burning in his eyes was almost blinding.

But Vincent simply watched him. Patient. Unmoved.

Dante’s head finally dropped again. His voice came out raw. “I’m sorry.”

“I shouldn’t have said what I said.”

The little boy pressed himself against Vincent’s leg and tugged at his hand. “Daddy, is he going to be mean to Mommy again?”

Vincent brushed his fingers over his hair, and for the first time, something close to a smile touched

his mouth.

“No.”

He looked up – past his hand on his son’s head, past me, straight down at Dante on the floor.

“Because as of today, Dante is stripped of the Lucchesi name.”