I Was the Don’s Stand-In Bride

For seven years, I’d been tangled in a secret affair with my brother’s closest ally, Rocco Mancini—a man whose name carried weight in every syndicate meeting and sealed deals with a single nod. We’d whispered about making it official, a quiet engagement hidden beneath blood oaths and firearm smoke.

One night, rumors of a closed-door council led me to Rocco’s penthouse—the top floor of a building the family owned outright. As I neared his office, low voices bled through the soundproof walls.

“Don Mancini, your fiancée is back. What do you plan to do with the temporary woman?” someone scoffed.