The Don Begged Me After Rejecting Me

Chapter 1

My father called while I was still in the Vatican archives conducting a private audit, telling me to attend a succession ceremony. According to him, my potential match was powerful, young, and about to become the official Don of the Sangue Nero family—one of the most influential crime families in the northeastern territories.

To ensure my safe travel, my father personally contacted The Commission, requiring my journey to be kept completely confidential.

Because—I am Valentina Russo, a Commissioner of The Commission, and the sole heir to the Russo legacy, one of the most powerful bloodlines in organized crime history.

When I arrived at the grand hall of the Palazzo Crimson and approached the entrance, someone suddenly grabbed my arm and shoved me backward. A small envelope hit my chest—filled with what felt like cash.

"The VIP lounge is for family bosses only. Take the money and go sit with the associates."

I inhaled slowly, suppressing the irritation rising in my chest. "I was invited here by the host. This is my assigned section."

The woman raised an eyebrow and laughed, as if I had told a joke. "Well, I'm the personal consigliere to the next Don. Marco Sangue Nero. The future head of the Sangue Nero family. In this territory? We get whatever we want."

I stared at her for a moment, then pulled out my encrypted phone—a secure line reserved only for Commission business—to call Marco Sangue Nero directly. The moment he answered, I asked coldly, "Your consigliere is claiming your family can control this entire succession ceremony. Is that true?"

There was a brief moment of silence before the line went dead.

Marco Sangue Nero had hung up without a word.

Isabella—the consigliere—smirked at me triumphantly. "Wow. Your future husband didn't even bother responding. That tells you everything, doesn't it?"

Several associates nearby began whispering.

"Don't cross the Sangue Nero family."

"Yeah, Marco's organization controls half the northeastern seaboard," a woman muttered.

Another associate whispered, "She probably forged her invitation. She should just apologize."

Isabella's smile widened. "See? Even they know your place." She tapped my shoulder deliberately. "Now be a good little girl and apologize. Say you're sorry for blocking Don Marco's guests."

I let out a cold laugh. "Apologize? To you?"

Isabella narrowed her eyes. "Don't test me."

"Funny," I said evenly. "I thought our world followed the Old Code. Turns out you can just insult people by talking loud enough?"

She scoffed, raised her hand, and swung—aiming directly for my face. But she was too slow. Before her hand landed, I caught her wrist and twisted lightly.

A sharp scream burst out. "Ahhh! You—let go! Let go!"

Associates stared in shock as she doubled over, her instincts making her whimper involuntarily.

Just then, a cold male voice came from behind us: "Release her. Now."