The Mafia’s Forgotten Daughter. The Desert King’s Jewel Chapter 03

The Mafia’s Forgotten Daughter. The Desert King’s Jewel Chapter 03

“Who do you think you are!”

Camille’s face twisted in shock and humiliation—just for a second. But she caught herself, her expression going soft again.

“Monica, you spent all those years in that mining zone. You must’ve heard of my fiancé’s reputation. He’s the famous Oil Prince.”

I said flatly, “Of course I have.”

She lifted her chin, practically radiating pride.

“Not just heard of him—we grew up together. Childhood sweethearts.”

The room erupted. Gasps. Whispers.

Then Camille’s eyes locked onto my necklace. Her pupils blew wide.

“Where did you get that!”

She lunged, ripping the chain from my neck.

The metal bit deep into my skin. I cried out. “Give it back!”

She held the necklace up next to her ring. Perfect match—they were a set. My adoptive mother’s favorite set.

Fire blazed in Camille’s eyes. “You shameless bitch! You seduced my fiancé!”

“Give it back—it’s mine!” I reached for it, but she yanked it away.

“You bought it with my money! That’s all my future property!” she screamed.

Rafael narrowed his eyes, confused. “Isn’t that just cheap plastic?”

Camille turned to him, tears in her eyes. “Rafael, I’ve seen Zayn wear this before. And now she has it—she’s trying to steal my fiancé!”

Disappointment and rage flooded Rafael’s face. His palm cracked across my cheek.

“I was actually going to ask Dad to let you come back. Give you a place to stay. And you pull this? Just because Camille took your spot, you want to destroy her future?”

My face burned. But I couldn’t hold back my anger anymore.

“Do you have any idea how I survived eight years in that dump? That was supposed to be her life!”

My eyes went red. Tears spilled before I could stop them.

I hadn’t been this humiliated in years. Ever since I got my real family, my adoptive father and brother never let a single tear fall from my eyes.

I pulled out my phone, ready to call my brother—to call off this circus. No way was Camille setting foot in the Al-Nassar house.

Camille snatched the phone before I could dial.

“Rafael, look—her wallpaper’s a picture with Zayn! And you still say she’s not the other woman?”

“No wonder this beggar was so cocky today.”

I let out a cold laugh. “Such class, Camille Vescari. Slapping a label like that on someone—this is Vescari manners?”

I grabbed my phone back and hit speed dial.

“Hey, Monica, where are you—”

“Hey, Zayn, I’m at—”

Camille grabbed my hair.

I couldn’t help it—I screamed. The phone slammed onto the marble floor and shattered.

Her hand closed around my throat.

“You slept with him too, didn’t you!”

“Calling him ‘Zayn’ all sweet like that? Such a slut.”

I choked, my face turning purple. My hands clawed uselessly at her wrists.

“I didn’t—! Zayn is my brother—I’m the Oil King’s daughter!”

The words barely left my mouth before laughter exploded around us.

“His daughter buys cheap ice cream?”

“Funniest joke of the year. Why don’t you just say you’re the Queen of England?”

Camille stomped her foot in fury. “Rafael, look—she’s making the whole Vescari family a laughingstock! This is my wedding day!”

Rafael’s face went red with shame. His leather shoe ground into my stomach, then he pulled back—

“Trash.”

I flew six feet across the floor and slammed onto the marble, coughing up blood.

No one came to help me.

Vescari guards closed in.

My heart pounded like it was trying to escape my chest. I curled my fingers against the cold floor, praying—Dad, Zayn, please—

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

A Rolls-Royce pulled up behind me, its engine rumbling low like a beast’s growl.