The Mafia Heir Gave My Wedding To My Sister Chapter 06
Adrian looked at Lily and spoke slowly, one word at a time. “I’m Emma’s fiance, and I will be Emma’s husband.”
Hurt welled in Lily’s eyes. “Then why did you marry me? You made me your wife—doesn’t that mean you like me?”
The more she talked, the more wronged she felt, until she was crying outright.
“You gave me Emma’s wedding dress. You gave me Emma’s bouquet. You gave me Emma’s ring.”
“When Emma got angry, you still took my side.”
“Mommy said you care about me deep down, you’re just too shy to say it.”
“If you really cared about Emma, how could you have done all those things without even flinching?”
Adrian couldn’t say a single word.
Because every single thing she said was true.
As if trying to prove her point, Lily grabbed her phone and slowly scrolled through it for Adrian to see.
Adrian was about to tell her to stop, but Lily had already lifted the screen to his face, her nose pink from crying. “Look—look what Emma’s friends are saying about her.”
Adrian took the phone.
The gloating comments burned his eyes.
“Heard Emma Moretti got cut loose by Adrian Romano.”
“How could you not know? She’s been chasing him since college. Seven years, and she couldn’t even lock down a real title.”
“Left like a dog kicked out the door.”
“I’ve got her latest photo right here.”
Adrian tapped the image.
In the photo, I stood on a curb with my luggage, face ashen, expression hollow with exhaustion.
The suitcase beside me looked big enough to crush me.
The longer Adrian stared, the worse he felt.
He’d been blind—overlooking so much, without even realizing it.
The thread was still refreshing.
“What a mess she is. I still remember how she traveled over a thousand miles for Adrian back in college and posted about ‘running toward love.’ I could laugh at her for the rest of my life.”
Adrian’s expression jolted.
That was the lowest point of his life.
Back then, he wasn’t the Boss of the Romano family. He was just an heir whose elders doubted him at every turn.
He’d gotten seriously ill, burning with fever for three days in a rented apartment, half-convinced he wouldn’t make it.
I was the one who knocked on his door.
I took care of him for an entire week.
There was no pot, so I boiled ginger tea for him over and over in an electric kettle.
He didn’t like anything too sharp-tasting, so I went to four different grocery stores to find honey.
That apartment had no heat at night.
We huddled together on a narrow bed, like two small animals keeping each other warm.
Adrian had been deeply moved.
He kissed my forehead, my eyelids, and said with aching tenderness, “Emma, no matter how your family treats you, in my heart, you’ll always be the only princess.”
But now he looked up at the wedding portrait on the wall.
The girl in the photo was beaming, her arm linked through his.
But that girl wasn’t me.
It was Lily Moretti.
Adrian’s throat seized up, as if something had clamped around it. For a long moment, he couldn’t speak.
He’d made a promise.
And he’d broken it.
He shot to his feet, wanting to message me.
His fingers hovered over the keyboard, but he couldn’t figure out what to say.
Tentatively, he typed:
“Emma, are you still angry?”
Then quickly deleted it.
He typed again:
“I’ll make the wedding up to you. From now on, you’ll be the only Mrs. Romano. Okay?”
Sent.
The red exclamation mark appeared again.
Adrian’s brow furrowed.
He was starting to think I’d taken this too far.