Part 3Left at the Altar I Chose the Underground Fighter

Seraphina stood at the door and gave the order.

Eight huge guys stormed the warehouse.

CRASH!

My workbench was kicked over.

Paint and scissors scattered everywhere.

The gown designs I’d stayed up nights drawing were ripped to shreds.

Seraphina walked in. "You stupid bitch." Her heel ground my sketches into the dirt. "Stay away from my husband."

Neighbors crowded the doorway to watch.

But no one said a word. The men wore the Gallo family crest on their suits. In this neighborhood, you don't mess with the mob.

Suddenly, Seraphina clutched her stomach.

Tears streamed down her face as she cried out to the crowd. "I'm carrying the Valenti heir! Why won't you leave him alone!"

The crowd started whispering, pointing.

Just then, a car pulled up.

Julian strode in.

I stared at him.

I thought he would at least stop this circus. Leave me with a shred of dignity.

He didn't even look at me.

He walked straight to Seraphina and pulled her into a tight hug.

"Are you okay?" he asked her softly.

Then, he turned to me.

His eyes were like ice.

"Alessia. Apologize."

I was stunned. The blood rushed to my head.

"What did you say?"

"Apologize to her," he repeated. So entitled. "She's carrying the future head of the Valenti family. You can't afford to cross her."

I looked at him. The fire inside me just died.

My father was in the hospital. Ten thousand a day. He was paying.

I clenched my jaw so hard it hurt. I forced myself to look down.

"I'm sorry."

Julian smiled, satisfied.

He put his arm around Seraphina and started to leave. Then he glanced back at me.

I knew that look. It meant: Be good. I'll make it up to you tonight.

Late that night.

The warehouse window slid open.

Julian climbed in, smelling of booze.

He grabbed me from behind, burying his face in my neck.

"Still mad?" He kissed my ear. "It was just an act. I had to save face for the Gallos."

I froze. Ice in my veins.

"Be a good girl," he whispered, grabbing my waist. "Once the alliance is solid, I'll move you into the penthouse."

His hand touched my stomach.

I flinched. My gut twisted.

When I was twenty, I had been pregnant with his child, too.

What did he say back then?

"A bastard is a liability. It'll weaken my position in the family."

That night, his men dragged me to a back-alley clinic in Brooklyn. They didn't even use real anesthetic.

I almost bled to death on that table.

And him? The next day, he flew to Vegas with Seraphina for a week.

Tears fell, hot on his hand.

Julian turned me around. He sighed, wiping my tears with his thumb.

"Don't cry. It hurts me to see you cry." His voice was so gentle.

After he left.

I stood there and slapped myself. Hard.

"Pathetic," I whispered.

But my father's condition really did improve. Because Julian paid, the hospital's best machines never stopped for a second.

I clutched the key to the penthouse.

For my father's life, I’d be a goomah. I accepted it.

A few days later, an invitation arrived.

Seraphina wanted me to join her for prayers at the church.

Julian's bodyguard delivered the message: "The boss says this is an olive branch. Take it."

I had no choice.

That Sunday, I went to the cathedral.

It was packed. Seraphina stood by the statue of the Holy Mother, a smile on her face.

"Alessia, come here," she beckoned.

I walked over, closed my eyes, and clasped my hands.

The second I finished my prayer and opened my eyes to stand up…

"Ah!"

Seraphina screamed.

She fell straight backward. Her head hit the marble floor with a sickening thud.

The next second…

A wave of bright red blood spread from under her white dress.

The church went silent.

Then, men appeared out of nowhere and grabbed me.

In front of hundreds of shocked guests, they pointed at me and yelled:

"She pushed Miss Seraphina! She tried to murder the Valenti heir!"