The Don’s Discarded Bride Chapter 02
A flicker of surprise crossed Adrian’s eyes as he stared at me, as if I were throwing a tantrum.
“Clara, all the guests are here—the elders from the Brooklyn faction, the Queens capos, even my father and yours are already seated. You can’t just call off the wedding. Stop being childish.”
“Laurel isn’t going to fight you for anything. Do you really want to push this to the point where both families can’t walk away?”
The sheer audacity of his assumption made me want to laugh.
My wedding was real, but so was Laurel’s marriage license. The alliance between the Moretti and Rosino families had just become a farce.
Adrian could split his marriage between two women, but I couldn’t lie to myself.
“Didn’t you cause all of this?”
Adrian’s face twisted into a cold sneer, clearly displeased with my answer.
“Clara, you insisted on paying for this wedding. Now you want to cancel it out of the blue? Don’t you think that’s ridiculous?”
I froze, my mouth opening and closing silently.
I remembered the day we chose the venue. I’d fallen in love with that grand ballroom on Long Island, the one I wanted draped in white baby’s breath. The price tag was ten thousand dollars.
Adrian had frowned and said it was too expensive, way over budget.
Unwilling to settle for a mediocre wedding—a day that was supposed to be once in a lifetime—I’d secretly taken ten thousand dollars from my own savings and given it to him.
How absurd. It had never occurred to me to question why the eldest son of the Moretti family, the de facto head of their Brooklyn waterfront operations, couldn’t scrape together ten thousand dollars.
Now I knew. He just didn’t want to.
The smirk on his face burned.
I’d been the only one looking forward to this wedding all along.
And now I’d paid ten grand for nothing but humiliation.
Regret flickered across Adrian’s eyes the second the words left his mouth, and his tone softened.
“Clara, I know I’ve hurt you, but this wedding has to happen today.”
“My father and yours are out there. If we call this off, between the two families—”
The sincerity in his eyes made me hesitate for a split second.
I could no longer tell if he was insisting on this wedding because he wanted to marry me, or simply because he feared losing face in front of the family elders and the Dons, feared igniting a conflict between our families.
But it didn’t matter anymore.
“Adrian Moretti, I will not marry you.”
“I have too much pride to go through with a wedding knowing you’re already married to someone else.”
Adrian’s face darkened.
Laurel clung to his arm, crying pitifully.
“Clara, are you saying I have no shame?”
“If it bothers you that much, I’ll go get a divorce right now. I don’t care if I’m his legal wife or not, as long as Adrian’s happy.”
I shot her a mocking glance.
“Laurel Hayes, how’s the bridal suite I decorated?”
“Enjoy sleeping with your sister’s fiancé?”
Her face drained of color, and she grabbed my dress to explain.
“Clara, I had no choice. You’re strong, talented, the Rosinos adore you. You’ll find someone better without Adrian.”
“But me? If I don’t marry Adrian, my family will send me back to West Virginia to marry that gambler. What happened to his first three wives… everyone in Appalachia knows.”
I’d believed that story three years ago.
All I got in return was outright betrayal.
“Laurel Hayes, your suffering is not my problem.”
“It doesn’t excuse you from knowingly breaking up an engagement and destroying the alliance between our families.”
Her face froze.
Then she looked up at Adrian with tear-filled eyes and whispered,
“I didn’t—”
Adrian pulled her into his arms and cooed at her gently.
He showered her with promises until she calmed down.
Only when she was quiet did he let out a slow breath. Then his gaze, now completely devoid of warmth, settled on me.
“Clara Rosino. Cheating isn’t illegal. Being a mistress isn’t illegal either.”
“And as for my relationship with Laurel,” he continued, the words dripping with contempt, “that’s certainly none of your business. You, of all people, a mistress’s daughter, have no right to lecture me from some imagined moral high ground.”
My head snapped up.
Laurel shot me a contemptuous glance, then feigned wide-eyed shock.
“Oh, so that’s where Clara comes from.”
“No wonder she’s so obsessed with having a wedding. People always crave what they don’t have.”
Regret flickered in Adrian’s eyes again. He bent down, picked up the bouquet, and pressed it back into my hands.
“Clara… I spoke out of turn. I’m sorry. Don’t take it to heart.”
I pushed his hand away.
The cruelest words are often the ones spoken without thought, the ones that reveal a hidden truth.
That’s how love and cruelty can come from the same mouth.
