After He Chose His Secretary, I Married His Mafia Brother

As the bridal bouquet came flying toward me, Valentina Cruz, Dante Russo's young secretary, suddenly darted out from the side. She reached it first. The white roses brushed her fingertips, spun halfway through the air, and landed safely in my arms. Everyone in the banquet hall fell silent for a moment. Then laughter and whistles nearly shook the room. "Come on, Dante. Don't leave Bella hanging here!" "Where's the ring? Don't tell me you didn't get one." "Eight years, man. It's too late to back out now." Cradling the bouquet, I looked past the cheering, teasing crowd and met Dante's gaze. He stood beside the long table, one hand resting on the back of a chair. His black tuxedo was impeccably tailored, and the silver crest of the Russo family was pinned to his chest. He didn't smile or brush off the topic like he usually did. He walked toward me. In the few steps it took him to walk over, I'd already started smiling. My hands tightened around the bouquet—not from joy, but from nerves. Last night, my father asked me one last time whether I would accept Luca Russo's proposal. I begged him to give me one more day. All I needed was for Dante to say in public today that he would marry me. No ring. No wedding date. Not even a proposal on one knee. With a clear promise, I would reject Luca, Dante's half-brother, and continue to stand by Dante's side as I had for the past eight years. My best friend Sofia Jackson knew about this. Therefore, she had secretly instructed all the bridesmaids beforehand to throw the bouquet to me. Now, Dante was standing right in front of me. The people around us started shouting, "Say it! Say it!" I met his gaze, the smile still lingering on my face, waiting for the words he'd owed me for eight years. But instead, he lowered his gaze, took the bouquet from my arms, and turned away. "Dante, what are you doing?" He walked over and handed the bouquet to Valentina, who was standing beside me. "She touched it first." Valentina froze for a moment, then hugged the bouquet to her chest, her cheeks turning bright red. "Oh, you shouldn't." She held the bouquet out anxiously, but her eyes remained fixed on Dante. "Miss Moretti caught it in the end." "I believe it should go to the one who touched it first," Dante said. He pushed the bouquet back into her arms, his tone as calm as if he were correcting a mistake in a report. The cheering died down. A few guests who didn't know the whole story immediately turned their attention to Valentina, asking her if she would be getting married soon. She held the bouquet and glanced shyly at Dante. "That depends on whether someone is willing to marry me." Someone whistled. Dante gave her no response but didn't explain himself either. He simply turned back to me and reached out to ruffle my hair. "Don't get upset over a silly bouquet." I stared at him. "Do you really think I'm fighting her over the bouquet?" "Bella." His voice dropped, a trace of impatience creeping in. "It's Sofia's wedding. Don't make things uncomfortable for everyone." My chest tightened. I'd been publicly humiliated—my hopes taken from me in front of everyone—and all he cared about was whether someone else might feel uncomfortable. I looked at my empty hands, then back up at him. "I was waiting for you to speak," I said. "Don't you understand?" Dante froze for a second, then frowned, like I was making a scene out of nothing. "Bella, don't turn a bouquet into a courtroom." That was when I finally understood. He wasn't confused. He just didn't want to answer. Sofia rushed over in her wedding gown. I took her hand and held it tight, not wanting her to blame herself for arranging all of this. She looked at me, her eyes immediately filled with tears. "Bella, that bouquet..." "I really thought he'd say it," I said, forcing a smile. "But I don't need him to anymore. I already have my answer." When the wedding was about to end, there was a sudden commotion outside the banquet hall. Valentina claimed someone had been following her in the parking lot, and Dante immediately called over his head of security. "Give her Car Two. And send two men." The head of security glanced at me hesitantly. Car Two was the armored vehicle Dante had arranged specifically for me, and the two bodyguards assigned to protect me were also standing nearby. "What about Miss Moretti?" "We are all friends here. She can leave with the other guests." After saying that, Dante seemed to remember I was still here. He turned to me to explain. "Valentina was targeted because she was handling company business. I can't ignore that." "You gave my car and my security to her. What about me?" "Text me when you get home." "Never mind," I said. "I'll handle it myself." He walked toward the parking lot with Valentina. Before getting into the car, Valentina took a glance at me, still holding the bouquet of white roses. Of course I was angry. But I knew, clearer than my anger, that I had made myself perfectly clear—and Dante had still chosen someone else first. When one received the same answer twice a day, they didn't ask a third time. The man my father had chosen for me was Luca Russo, Dante's older half-brother and the underboss of the Russo family. For the past six years, he had controlled the family's overseas operations. Although the old Don was still in power, Luca was making more than half of the family's decisions. Every elder knew he would become the next Don. He was also the last person Dante ever wanted to be compared to. On the night six years ago, when Luca was officially appointed as the underboss, Dante walked away from the family's core operations and founded his own security company, determined to prove he didn't need to live in his brother's shadow. Since then, the two of them had never met in public. Dante had no idea Luca had secretly returned to Nelsona City the night before. My phone vibrated in my palm. My father had sent a message. Father: Luca Russo will wait until midnight. This is your last chance to reject him.