The Don’s Discarded Bride Chapter 04
The room erupted in chaos.
A sea of faces turned toward us—curious, contemptuous, scandalized. Their stares felt like physical cuts.
In the corner of the ballroom, several Moretti elders whispered among themselves. On the Rosino side, my uncle Marco’s face had turned thunderous.
My mother’s face flushed with rage when she saw the names on the license.
Instinctively, she stepped in front of me, a shield against the venom. “What vile lies are you spewing?” she shot back, her voice sharp. “My daughter has been with Adrian for eight years. The alliance between our families is common knowledge. If anyone here is the ‘other woman,’ it’s you.”
Tears burned my eyes as I stared at my mother’s back.
Laurel’s expression faltered for a split second, but she held the license up for everyone to see.
“We have the legal document right here,” she announced, her voice ringing with false righteousness. “By law, by this paper, what is she if not the other woman?”
“I heard you were someone’s mistress too. Got pregnant and got thrown out by the wife. Like mother, like daughter. What else could she turn out to be?”
A rage hotter than anything I’d ever felt exploded in my chest.
I lunged at Laurel, ready to hit her.
“Don’t you dare talk about my mother like that.”
Adrian caught me mid-lunge, pinning my wrists to my sides.
A gasp cut through the room behind me. I spun around to see my mother collapse, her face ashen, clutching her chest.
“Mom!”
I wrenched free from Adrian and dropped to my knees beside her, tears slamming into the carpet.
My hands shook as I fumbled for my phone.
“Mom, hold on. I’m calling 911—”
Before I could dial, a sharp kick sent my phone skittering and spinning across the polished floor. Laurel planted herself in front of me, one hand pressed dramatically to her cheek as if I’d struck her, her face a mask of outraged innocence.
“Clara Rosino, you don’t get to save your mother until you kneel and bang your head on the floor ninety-nine times.”
I crawled toward the phone, but she kicked it away again.
Adrian’s face was stone cold.
“On your knees, Clara,” Adrian commanded, his voice devoid of all warmth. “Apologize to my wife. Your mother fainted from the shock; she’ll recover. Laurel’s dignity, however, is non-negotiable. She carries the Moretti name now.”
Tears splattered the floor as my voice cracked.
“She insulted my mother first—”
His gaze was ice. “She is my legally wedded wife,” he said, each word precise and chilling. “To raise a hand against her is to raise a hand against me, and against the honor of the Moretti family. You will apologize.”
Laurel made a show of trying to calm him down, but Adrian pulled her closer.
“No. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
Eight years together, and he wanted me on my knees in front of every important person in both families, just to make her feel powerful.
“Clara, the longer you wait, the worse it’ll be for your mother—”
Laurel’s words cut through me. I closed my eyes and slowly dropped to my knees.
One.
Two.
By the ninety-ninth time my head hit the floor, my forehead was a raw, bleeding mess. Blood trickled down my brow and stained my white wedding dress.
My mother’s breathing grew fainter and fainter.
It wasn’t enough.
“Clara, take off the dress and give it to Laurel.”
“Your mother’s condition is urgent, but my wedding has to go on too.”
Moving like an automaton, I peeled the bloodstained dress from my body and let it fall in a heap at my feet. I watched, numb, as Adrian swept Laurel into his arms. A cheer went up, led by the Moretti faction, their applause loud and approving, as he carried her from the room toward the waiting ceremony.
I didn’t crawl back to my mother until the wail of an ambulance siren cut through the ballroom.
The light in her eyes was already gone.
“Clara, I’m so sorry… I ruined your life…”
“I was a mistress. I deserved to die. But my Clara didn’t deserve this humiliation…”
She brushed her fingers over my forehead, then bit down hard on her tongue until it severed.
The world washed in a haze of red. Reason, thought, everything dissolved into a single, silent scream that tore through my mind. When my voice came, it was barely human. “Mama—!”
Paramedics rushed in and worked on her, but finally, they shook their heads.
“I’m sorry, ma’am. She’s gone. My condolences.”
My mother died because of me.
She’d killed herself to spare me further shame.
And so, with shaking hands, I sent Adrian one final text.
