The Don Who Chose Wrong Chapter 05

The Don Who Chose Wrong Chapter 05

Dante’s face was a mask of confusion and rage. He gritted out the words. “Someone better start talking. Now.” 

Enzo finally looked at my husband. The contempt in his eyes was unmistakable. “You really don’t know? Married for five years, and you never once asked who your wife’s family was?” 

“Her family?” Dante let out an incredulous laugh. “She doesn’t have a family! She told me they were all dead. That she came to New York alone-” 

“She lied.” Enzo cut him off flatly. 

“Ava–or rather, Seraphina Bellandi–is the sole heir to the Bellandi family.” Enzo’s voice carried to every corner of the casino. “Your pathetic little empire exists only because we allow it.” 

Dante’s face went pale as death. “That’s… that’s impossible.” 

“Is it?” I finally spoke. My voice was cold and clear. “Tell me, Dante. How do you think you survived these past five years?” 

“You were a nobody. A street punk with delusions of grandeur. Should have died a dozen times over.” 

I held up my hand. Counted off slowly. “The Russian mafia wanted your territory. They vanished overnight. The Yakuza tried to muscle in on your smuggling routes. They pulled back the next day. The FBI built a RICO case against you. The case disappeared.” 

Dante stared at me. Dawning horror on his face. “Every time… every time, that was you?” 

“Every single time. One phone call from me, and your 

problems evaporated. I used the Bellandi family’s influence to 

build you into the man you are today.” 

“No… no!” Dante shook his head frantically. Refusing to accept reality. “You’re lying. You couldn’t possibly—” 

“The Bellandi family?” someone in the crowd gasped in terror. 

“Oh my God, she’s telling the truth! She’s ‘Shadow’s‘ 

daughter!” 

Another voice hissed, “We’re dead. We’re all fucking dead!” 

Irina went white as a ghost. She grabbed Dante’s arm desperately. “Dante, let’s go. We need to get out of here-” 

“Shut up!” Dante shook her off and screamed at her 

hysterically. Then he turned to me with desperate disbelief. “If this is true, why? Why did you hide it? Why did you marry 

me?” 

For the first time, something almost like sadness flickered 

through me. 

“Because five years ago, I was young and stupid. I thought I’d 

found someone who truly cared about me.” I laughed bitterly. 

Each word a knife. “I was going to tell you the truth tonight. 

Take you home to meet my father. Officially bring you into the 

Bellandi family.” 

Dante’s eyes were filled with resentment and disbelief. “I 

don’t believe it. This is a setup. You’re all playing me- 

He never finished. 

The casino doors opened again. 

This time, a silver–haired man in his sixties walked in. 

Straight–backed. Every movement radiating the authority of a 

battlefield veteran. 

He wore a simple black suit. But everyone recognized him. The silhouette from news reports. The whispered name in back 

alleys. The nightmare that haunted men’s dreams: Lorenzo Bellandi. 

My father. The man they called “the Shadow.” A man who’d ordered more deaths than cancer. 

“Seraphina,” he called softly. Even after forty years in America, his heavy Italian accent was clear. “My daughter. Are you hurt?” 

I shook my head gently. “I’m fine, Papa.” 

He walked over slowly. Cupped my face in his hands. His eyes found the bruise from Dante’s slap. Ice–cold murder filled his face. 

“Who. Struck. My.Daughter?” 

The room was so silent the air seemed to solidify. Dante instinctively stepped back. His legs trembled uncontrollably. 

He turned to Dante. I watched this man–my ex–husband, I reminded myself–shrink like a beaten dog under my father’s 

gaze. 

“You are Dante Russo.” 

“You’ve built a little business in New York. Gambling. Smuggling. Protection rackets.” My father’s tone was light. Almost friendly in its falseness. 

“Tell me, Mr. Russo. A man with no family backing. No real 

wealth. How did you build this so–called empire in just five years?” 

Dante opened his mouth. Closed it. Only a strangled sound 

came out. 

“Let me tell you,” my father pressed closer. Towered over 

Dante. 

“Every time you faced opposition, your opponents 

disappeared. Every time you needed a permit, it materialized. Every time law enforcement came near you, investigations stopped. You thought you were clever? Lucky?” 

“You are not lucky. You were nothing more than a charity project my daughter took up on a whim.”