After 18 Wedding Escapes, I Married the Mafia King Chapter 08
A month later, trouble hit the Greco family.
It started when a major project under Stefano’s management lost its funding from the Morello
family.
The deal had been the most important partnership on the Greco family’s agenda that year.
The day before signing, Riccardo personally ordered legal to shut the whole thing down.
The reason was simple.
“The Greco family representative’s personal life is a mess. Poses a serious reputational risk to any
major deal.”
Once that got out, the whole circle blew up.
The Greco patriarch was so furious that he was hospitalized on the spot.
Stefano was summoned back to the family estate and forced to take the punishment for an entire
night.
Rumor had it that his father struck him with a cane hard enough to split the skin at his temple.
Pointing at him, he shouted, “Lillian holds Vercetti shares and married into the Morello family.”
“You lost her-and for what? Some woman not even fit to be named?”
“You’ve dragged the Greco name through the mud!”
“You fool!”
Stefano never argued.
He stayed there, still clutching that withered lisianthus.
Later, Mrs. Greco came to see me.
She brought a thick stack of documents.
Share transfers. Property deeds. And a check with a staggering sum.
Sitting across from me in a café, her eyes were red and swollen.
“Lillian, I know Stefano treated you terribly.”
“But you were together for seven years.”
“He won’t listen to anyone. Locks himself in his room all day, going through your old photos.”
“He truly knows he was wrong.
I pushed the documents back across the table.
“Mrs. Greco. I’m married.”
Her lips trembled. “But you loved him so much.”
I smiled faintly. “That was before.”
“Stefano himself said no one else would want me after what he put me through.”
“Well, someone does want me. And he cherishes me.”
Mrs. Greco’s expression changed. Maybe he felt embarrassed.
She probably had no idea her son had humiliated me like that in front of all his friends.
After that, she couldn’t say another word.
Before leaving, she quietly added, “Stefano wants to see you.”
I lowered my gaze and stirred my coffee.
“No. There’s nothing left to say.”
The first time Stefano managed to find me was two months later.
That evening, I attended a charity gala with Riccardo.
As we exited the hotel, I saw Stefano standing in the rain.
He had lost a noticeable amount of weight.
The smug, effortless confidence he once wore was completely gone.
His black suit was wrinkled and soaked against his body.
His eyes were bloodshot. The moment he saw me, they lit up.
“Lillian.” He started walking toward me, only to be stopped by security. He stopped a few paces
away.
His voice was rough.
“I know I was wrong. I really know I was wrong.”
“I shouldn’t have left you at the City Hall over and over again.”
“I shouldn’t have walked away when your grandmother was dying.”
“I shouldn’t have said no one else would want you.”
“Lillian, hit me. Curse me out. I don’t care.”
“Just come back to me, please.”
Rainwater streamed down his hair and face.
He looked so wrecked he barely resembled the Stefano I used to know.
I looked at him and felt nothing but distance.
“Stefano. You’re not sorry for what you did. You just realized I’m never coming back.”
His eyes reddened instantly.
“No. That’s not it.”
“I love you. I’ve always loved you.’
I let out a cold laugh. “Stefano. Your love-I can’t afford it.”
The strength seemed to leave his body all at once. He stumbled backward.
Beside me, Riccardo stood holding an umbrella.
Most of it was tilted toward me, while one of his own shoulders was already soaked by the rain.
When Stefano saw that, something in his eyes seemed to shatter.
Then, suddenly, he sank to the ground, as if all the strength draining out.
Rain splashed around him, soaking the legs of his trousers.
“Lillian, please… Just once. Give me one more chance.”
“I’ll cut Juliana off completely.”
“We can start over.”
Looking at Stefano kneeling in the rain, I suddenly remembered something from long ago.
Once, outside the City Hall, I had cried and begged him not to leave.
But he had still pried my fingers from his sleeve one by one.
Back then, he stood. I crouched and cried.
Now he collapsed right at my feet, and I was standing.
So this was what people meant when they said the tables eventually turned.
I leaned down just enough to meet his eyes.
“Stefano. The eighteenth time was your last chance.”
“I already gave it to you. You threw it away.”
Then I straightened up and took Riccardo’s arm. “Let’s go.”
Riccardo nodded. “Okay.”
The umbrella closed over us, shutting out the rain.
And the sound of Stefano’s heartbroken shouting faded behind us..
