The Don Prayed for Me, Then Betrayed Me Chapter 07

Lorenzo stayed kneeling out back for hours.

Eventually the building security guard approached, concerned. “Sir, are you alright?”

He lifted his head, bloodshot eyes raw and burning, still white—knuckling the stained rosary bracelet.

He dialed his assistant, his voice wrecked beyond recognition. “Track down every detail of Elena’s whereabouts once she landed. Hotel bookings, new cell number, black card activity—dig up everything you possibly can.”

The assistant set off to investigate immediately.

Thirty minutes later, he called back with grim news. “Don Vitale, Mrs. Vitale never checked into any hotel after landing. All her domestic bank cards have been permanently deactivated. Her phone line is canceled entirely. Her social media accounts show her last login was at the airport.”

The assistant hesitated, his tone sinking even lower. “I also uncovered dozens of provocative messages Mara sent to the Donna, alongside attached photographs.”

Lorenzo’s grip on his phone tightened until the plastic creaked.

He finally realized: I hadn’t fled on a whim. I’d made up my mind to erase myself completely from his world.

Mara arrived at the Vitale townhouse still wearing her unaltered wedding gown, its white train dragging across the floor, her bridal makeup streaked and ruined from crying.

The second she stepped inside, she threw herself in front of him. “Lorenzo, how could you leave me there? Every single old-money family watched you walk out on our ceremony. I waited five whole years for this day, and you abandoned it all just for Elena.”

Lorenzo sat motionless on the leather sofa, not reaching out to pull her into his arms like he always had before.

He only stared up at her, his gaze ice-cold enough to send a jolt of panic through her.

“You sent those photographs to her, didn’t you.”

Mara’s face paled instantly, then she burst into louder, hysterical tears. “I only acted out because I felt so insecure! I’ve stood by you for five years, I gave you a son—yet she does nothing at all and still holds the title of Vitale Donna. I just wanted her to understand I wasn’t some shameful secret hidden away forever.”

A hollow, bitter laugh escaped Lorenzo, devoid of any warmth whatsoever. “So you intentionally tormented her—while she was carrying your child.”

Mara froze in shock. “I had no idea she was pregnant! I swear I didn’t know a thing.”

Lorenzo shot abruptly to his feet. “But you knew her health was fragile. You knew any upset would devastate her. And you knew that red prayer bracelet was hand-woven for me by her own hands.”

Mara flinched backward from his unbridled rage, but quickly scrambled to regain her footing, a desperate plea spilling out. “Lorenzo, don’t look at me like that. I gave you a child too. You can’t cast our son and me aside.”

The word “son” sent a dull, crushing pain surging through his chest.

He pictured me walking into that operating room entirely alone, walking out with nothing left of the baby we’d conceived—all while he’d stood at the altar of that mountain chapel, ready to slip a wedding ring onto Mara’s finger.

Lorenzo squeezed his eyes shut. “Bring the boy here. I want a paternity test run immediately.”

Mara’s complexion blanched completely. “Lorenzo, what are you implying? Do you doubt he’s yours?”

Lorenzo held her gaze steady. “You claimed he’s my son. Then we’ll prove it with a test.”

Mara’s eyes darted away for a split second, and in that fleeting shift, every last shred of wishful thinking in Lorenzo’s heart crumbled to dust.

Countless small inconsistencies rushed back to him all at once.

The boy was five years old, yet bore not a single resemblance to Lorenzo.

Every time he’d pointed it out, Mara brushed it off, saying children often took after their mothers.

Whenever he’d suggested bringing the boy back to New York to meet the Vitale clan, Mara would break down sobbing, terrified Elena would find out and the child would suffer unfair treatment.

For years, she’d kept the boy hidden away in Europe, never allowing him to set foot at any Vitale family dinner table in New York.

Once, Lorenzo had thought that came from her quiet consideration.

Now he realized the truth.

She hadn’t feared the boy getting hurt—she’d feared the full truth laid bare for the entire Vitale bloodline to witness.

Lorenzo dispatched his security detail to retrieve the child at once.

Mara wailed and raged in the living room through the entire night. “Lorenzo Vitale, you can’t treat me like this! I gave you the best five years of my life. You promised you’d make it up to me—a wedding, an official standing within the family.”

Lorenzo never spared her another glance.

The Vitale family’s private lab rushed to process an expedited DNA analysis through the night.

By dawn, the finalized report was delivered to him.

It was only a few thin pages, yet it weighed heavier than lead in his hands.

Lorenzo flipped to the final page, his eyes locking onto the single line that sealed his fate.