Suing My Ex, the Don Chapter 01
The exact year I became the top defense attorney in the United States, I received a case retainer from my ex-fiancé, Alexander.
I had loved him for four long years, but his aristocratic family refused to accept me. In the De Luca clan, there was a strict, unyielding rule for any woman who wished to marry into their bloodline: she had to perform the blood oath, letting her blood drip onto a burning sacred icon. If the icon failed to burn entirely down to ash, it meant failure, and she had to repeat it nine consecutive times.
For four years, I never succeeded even once. Yet my adopted sister, Isabella, achieved a perfect burn on her very first try.
Right before their wedding, Alexander finally laid out the truth to me, “I coated those sacred icons in flame retardant, Grace. It didn’t matter how many times you dripped your blood or struck a match; they were never going to burn down. Isabella comes from a humble background. I had to engineer this to secure her a place of dignity in my family.”
It turned out that all my misery and humiliation over those four years were nothing but a runway he was paving for another woman.
The day the De Luca family threw their “Wedding of the Century,” I booked a one-way ticket to Boston and joined a law firm. Now, I am one of the most elite attorneys in the nation, boasting a flawless hundred-percent win rate.
And Alexander, currently facing a massive legal crisis, sat across from my desk and pushed a check toward me.
“Only you can win this case ,” he said. “Take it, and fifty million dollars is yours.”
A soft, mocking chuckle escaped my lips. I reached into my desk drawer, pulled out nine sacred icons, and lined them up right in front of him.
“The De Lucas have their protocols, but I have my own rules,” I said, leaning back. “Complete the Burning Saint ritual nine times right here. Do that, and maybe I’ll consider taking your case.”
…
Alexander’s gaze fell onto the nine sacred icons on the mahogany desk. They were engraved with the De Luca family crest—the exact tokens he had sabotaged years ago, engineered to never burn completely.
He was temporarily speechless. Pinching the bridge of his nose with a weary, patronizing sigh, he forced a bitter smile, “Stop playing games, Grace. You know how massive this indictment is. If you don’t take this case, the De Luca family won’t be able to salvage any of their assets on the East Coast. Isabella is your sister. We’re practically family. Why are you still holding a grudge over something that happened three years ago?”
My fingers tightened around the edge of the case file, my eyes remaining fixed on the paperwork. “The day I left New York, Isabella ceased to have anything to do with me. My answer stands: I am not taking any cases from the De Luca family.”
The air in the room froze instantly. The desperate humility melted from Alexander’s face, replaced by his usual cold arrogance.
“Is it the money?” he scoffed. “Fifty million? Eighty million? The De Luca family can clear whatever wire transfer you want. I remember your mother’s medical bill… it’s draining your liquidity, isn’t it?”
My fountain pen hitched slightly against the legal pad. Alexander’s eyes flashed, confident he had finally hooked my weakness.
“The De Luca foundation will absorb all of her lifetime medical expenses, and I’ll fly in the most authoritative international experts for a consultation. All you have to do is nod your head… ”
I capped my pen, slid the documents into my leather briefcase, and finally threw a cold glance his way. Three years had hardened him; the reckless boy was gone, replaced by a calculating patriarch. Yet, he was still wearing that ridiculous red polka-dot tie—Isabella’s favorite aesthetic.
I pulled my gaze back, my voice dangerously flat. Mr. De Luca, my mother is dead.”
“She passed away on the exact day of your wedding with Isabella.”
Alexander looked as if I had hit him with a physical blow. “What… how could that be… ”
I walked past him, my heels clicking sharply as I headed for the exit. In the bullpen, my associates had been whispering and trying to catch a glimpse inside my office. The moment I emerged, the entire room fell into absolute silence.
Meghan, my senior associate, grabbed her tablet and hurried to match my stride, her voice urgent, “Grace, the De Luca family practically owns the state judiciary, and they have half the politicians in their pocket. If we reject this retainer and they survive this crisis, I’m afraid our firm will… ”
“They won’t survive this crisis,” I said, stopping in my tracks and looking up. Above us, the brass letters of the Justice Legal Aid Alliance caught the afternoon sun.
I spoke quietly. “Because I am going to lead the trial team for the plaintiffs.”
I threw open the door of my Bentley and slid into the backseat. “Get the FBI field office on the line, Meghan. We are going to meet the lead representatives of the victims right now.”
The De Luca case was a massive, predatory corporate wire fraud scheme. Three hundred victims completely wiped out, totaling over three hundred million dollars in stolen capital. If the defense lawyers spun it as a technical regulatory infraction, the case would be white-washed into a simple civil dispute, allowing the De Luca family to settle for pennies and walk away clean.
But the core mission of the Justice Legal Aid Alliance has always been to give teeth to the voiceless. This was the bill Alexander owed his victims, and it was the bill he owed me.
Meghan stood completely frozen for a few seconds before throwing the car into drive. By the time the strategy session wrapped, the city was buried in the dead of night. I dragged my exhausted body back to my apartment, only to find a familiar luxury Maybach idling by the curb.
Alexander’s car.
