From His Reject to the Don's Queen

Vesna's POV

Thirty-two times.

That was how many times Tristan had "tested" me during our three years together.

When I met Tristan Bennett, we were both hiding our true identities. He never mentioned he was the Bennett family heir, and I never brought up the surname Torrente. We were just ordinary college sweethearts in Ashborne City. He said he loved me, and I believed him.

The seventeenth time: driving across town late at night to deliver documents for him, I was run off the road and crashed into a guardrail, earning nine stitches in my forehead. His first words at the hospital were, "Can't you even drive properly? You delayed my business."

The twenty-sixth time: he owed money at an underground casino. He sent me to negotiate. A gun was drawn, and a bullet grazed my arm, soaking my sleeve in blood. The scar is still there. He never asked if I was in pain; he only cared if his debt was cleared.

The thirtieth time: he asked for my entire life savings for an "emergency." He turned around and used that money to buy someone else a new car.

I thought if I endured it all, we would eventually have a future.

Until he announced he was opening a casino and demanded ten million dollars. "The ultimate test," he called it. If I passed, he’d marry me.

I refused.

He immediately bought Aurelia Gallom a twenty-million-dollar mansion. Waving the property deed in my face, he said, "Vesna, I was just testing you. It's a shame you failed. We're done."

I didn't cry, and I didn't beg. The moment I walked away, I had never felt so free. He didn't know I was a Torrente, or that my father, Dario, owned the criminal underworld of this city. And he certainly never imagined that I would later marry Silvio Marchesi—the most powerful Mafia Boss in Ashborne City—and become the Donna of the Marchesi syndicate.

Tonight was a business gala my father forced me to attend. Silvio was in Chicago settling a territorial dispute, so I brought our two-year-old daughter, Sofia. To hold her comfortably, I wore a loose, custom-made Italian dress.

I had barely walked through the doors when I bumped right into Tristan, with Aurelia draped over his arm. Rumor had it the Bennett family business was booming, and the Galloms weren't holding back either.

He looked me up and down and laughed out loud. "Vesna? Dressed like that and dragging a kid along—who are you nannying for?"

I glared at him coldly. "Move, Bennett."

"Still have that temper, huh?" Tristan sneered, glancing at Sofia in my arms. "Did you marry some street rat after you left me? Now you're begging for crumbs babysitting for the rich?"

I tightened my hold on a trembling Sofia. "My life is none of your business. Get lost."

Aurelia leaned in, eyeing my dress down to my shoes with disgust. "God, she can't even afford a decent gown. And she dared to fight me for you?"

Tristan leaned down to kiss her forehead, then looked at me with mock pity. "Do you regret it? If you hadn't been so selfish, that would be you standing here, instead of shivering in a corner wearing rags."

He lifted his chin arrogantly. "Just so you know, the Bennetts and Galloms are merging. We're about to be one of the most powerful families on the East Coast."

"Congratulations," I replied, barely blinking. "Now, get out of my sight."

Aurelia suddenly snapped at a passing event staffer. "What is wrong with you people? Tonight is the night our families talk business with Boss Marchesi, and you let trash wander in? Kick her out!"

Two security guards hurried over. They looked at the glamorous couple, then at my plain outfit.

"Ma'am," one of them said, his face darkening. "Please cooperate."

"I am an invited guest."

"At least lie better!" Tristan shouted, drawing the attention of several minor mafia bosses nearby. He deliberately raised his voice. "I knew her for three years! She couldn't even pay her tuition! She has no right to be at a gala like this. She sneaked in!"

Emboldened by his words, the guard reached for my arm.

I stepped back and raised my left hand, flashing the ring on my finger.

A black-gold band with a deep, blood-red ruby. The symbol of the Donna of the Marchesi Family. Every single person in this city recognized it.

The hall fell dead silent. The guard's hand froze in mid-air.

"Touch me again, I dare you." My voice wasn't loud, but it echoed clearly across the room. "I am Vesna Marchesi. The Donna of the Marchesi family."