The Mafia’s Substitute Bride Chapter 04

“Vivienne, it’s just a bracelet.”

Callum sounded almost bored. “Mara likes it. Let her have it. I’ll buy you any bracelet you want.”

“She likes it, so I have to give her everything?” I cut in. “My shoes. My bracelet. My husband. Even my place beside a ninety-year-old Don?”

Silence.

Then Callum’s voice dropped. “You know.”

A softer tone followed, the one he used when he wanted me to be reasonable.

“Vivienne, that old man is ninety. He isn’t functional. He won’t do anything to you. It’s only for appearances. Mara saved my life. She’s young. I can’t let her be ruined.”

Saved his life.

Those words again.

“I only got the license with Mara to protect her from debt collectors,” he continued. “When everything settles, and when the old man dies, I’ll bring you back. Everything will go back to normal. Trust me, okay?”

“I don’t need you to bring me back.” My control finally cracked. “Give me back my mother’s bracelet.”

He hung up.

The dial tone buzzed in my ear.

Something inside me sank, cold and quiet.

Claire was crying with anger. “He’ll pay for this. That bastard will pay.”

A truck flipped over in front of us.

The convoy had no time to react.

Metal screamed. Glass burst. Cars slammed into each other, crushing us between two vehicles.

Claire and I were trapped.

The truck caught fire.

Flames spread fast.

Callum got out of his car and ran toward me.

Then Mara screamed behind him.

“Callum! My head is bleeding!”

He stopped.

Turned.

“Callum!” I shouted until my throat tore. “If you choose her now, we’re done. All our years together. Done.”

He hesitated.

Then he walked away.

“Vivienne,” he said, without looking back, “Mara is weak. I have to take her to the hospital first.”

Ten years ago, under moonlight, he told me, “V, no matter what happens, you’ll always be my first choice.”

Now he said, “Mara is weak. I have to take her to the hospital first.”

Years of love, loyalty, blood, and debt were erased by a woman who knew exactly when to cry.

Watching his back disappear through the smoke, I finally understood something.

Marrying anyone else would be better than marrying Callum Shaw.

Especially since I was marrying the young Russo.

Not some ninety-year-old man who could barely stand.

A young, handsome man.

I’d better get some rest. Tonight’s bridal suite was going to be rough.