The Mafia’s Substitute Bride Chapter 01

After eight years with Callum Shaw, my mafia boyfriend, I was finally supposed to marry him.

I had spent half my life believing I would become the Donna of the Shaw Family.

Then, on the night before our wedding, I heard Callum speaking to his Capo in the study.

“Tomorrow, after the bridal pickup, take the convoy straight to the Russo estate.”

“The Russo Family?” His Capo sounded stunned.

Callum’s voice stayed cold. “Mara’s family is bankrupt. They owe the Russos a fortune. If the debt isn’t paid, she has to marry Old Don Russo. I can’t let her life be ruined. Vivienne will take her place.”

The Capo went silent for a beat. “You would rather ruin Vivienne than lose Mara? Boss, the Shaw Family isn’t short on money.”

“Do the math,” Callum said flatly. “The old man is ninety. Half-dead. He only wants a young wife to sit beside his bed and make the contract look clean. In a few years, once he dies, I’ll bring Vivienne back. I don’t care if she comes back divorced. Whatever inheritance she gets from the old man comes back with her into the Shaw Family. That deal is worth over a billion. For the future of the family, I don’t have a choice.”

“But will Vivienne agree?”

Callum paused.

“Tomorrow, my mother will put something in her dinner. By the time Vivienne wakes up, she’ll already be in the old man’s bed. She won’t have a choice.”

I stood outside the door and listened.

No screaming. No crying. No begging.

I just turned around, went back to my room, and waited for the wedding.

Months later, when Callum came looking for me, desperate to take back what he had thrown away, I was already five months pregnant.

I looked him straight in the eye and said, “Like you said, Callum. A deal is a deal. You don’t have a choice.”

The next morning, Callum arrived with his men to pick up the bride.

Mara came with him.

The moment she saw me in my wedding dress, her eyes filled with tears.

“Vivienne, I’m so jealous,” she whispered. “You get to marry the man you love. You’re so lucky. Unlike me. I have to marry a ninety-year-old because of my family’s debt.”

Then she wiped her tears and glanced at Callum, soft and meaningful.

“But luckily, someone already got a marriage license with me this morning. Secretly. So that old man can’t marry me even if he wants to.”

I froze.

I thought being switched into another bride’s place was already the worst humiliation Callum could give me.

I was wrong.

He had already married her.

My best friend, Claire, didn’t know what was really happening. She leaned close, furious on my behalf.

“This is your wedding day. Why is she here crying like a funeral guest? Is she trying to curse you?”

“It’s fine,” I said, patting her hand.

Because this had never been my wedding to Callum.

He was only pretending to pick me up so he could complete the switch.

Claire tried to start the wedding games.

Callum frowned. “No time. Find the wedding shoes.”

His men searched the room and found them within minutes.

Then Callum took the shoes and walked straight to Mara.

“Vivienne,” he said, as if this were reasonable, “Mara twisted her ankle on the way here. Her shoes are ruined.”

He knelt in front of her and helped her put on my wedding shoes.

“Her skin is delicate. She can’t wear rough shoes. Let her have yours.”

Then he placed a pair of plain cloth shoes in front of me.

“They’re just shoes,” he said gently, like he was comforting a child. “You won’t mind, right?”

Claire exploded. “Callum, those are her wedding shoes!”

“So?” Callum’s expression cooled. “They’re just shoes. What difference does it make?”

“It’s not just shoes—”