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My mafia fiancé left me on our wedding day to get a marriage license with his mistress. Go ahead, Luca. Go get that paper. That three-mi11ion-d0llar, world-famous wedding of the century? I'll keep it for myself. Chapter 1 The night before the wedding, someone slipped a pres!dential Suite key card under my door. The room number was the same suite where I'd been proposed to three years ago. I thought it was Luca Vitale's idea of a pre‑wedding romantic surprise. But when I pushed the door open, I found him tangled in the sheets with another woman. When he was done, Luca coolly pushed her aside. He lit a cig@rette. Through the sm0ke, he gave me a careless smile. "Nothing to it," he sighed. "I just didn't want to hide it anymore. Figured you should know now. Then I won't have to explain after the wedding." He flicked his ash into the tray and added, "Relax. You're still my one and only w!fe." "You've been with me for ten years. You've pissed off plenty of people in this circle. Without me, who else would take you in?" "Tomorrow goes on as planned. Just one small change—" "You show up for the ceremony. She gets the marriage license." He expected me to ask why. But I quietly took off my engagement ring, set it on the vanity, and walked out. The next morning, Luca stood waiting for me in the cathedral, dressed in his groom's tuxedo. I didn't run. I didn't hesitate. I walked straight down the red carpet arm in arm with my enemy, held up the marriage certificate, and said: "The ceremony can stay. I've already given the certificate to him." ***** "There she is! The bride's finally out!" By the time I came downstairs, reporters had already gathered outside the hotel. Camera flashes popped like gvnfire. "Miss Cooper—sorry, Mrs. Vitale—how are you feeling today?" "Mrs. Vitale, what do you think of the wedding of the century Mr. Vitale planned for you?" I didn't answer. The bodyguards escorted me to the car. The wedding was set at St. Catherine's Cathedral on the east side. Luca
