Marrying The Wounded King: My Ex's Regret

I stood in the center of the rose garden, convinced the Underboss of the East Coast was finally going to defy his father and put a ring on my finger.

Instead, Desmond walked toward me holding another woman's hand.

"Dallas," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. "This is Chelsea. My fiancée."

He told me it was just business, a merger to secure shipping routes. He expected me to stay in the shadows as his mistress, his "pet canary."

When I refused to be his dirty little secret, his family sold me like cattle to Kennedy Simmons, the crippled Don of the West Coast, just to get rid of me.

But the ultimate betrayal happened the night before I left.

On the family yacht, Chelsea pushed me overboard. I screamed for help in the freezing dark water.

I watched Desmond dive in.

I reached out for him, but he swam right past me.

He chose to save his wealthy fiancée, the "asset," and left me to drown.

In that moment, the girl who loved him died.

I realized his brother Antone, who I thought was my friend, was just a stalker using me to get close to Chelsea. I was nothing but collateral damage to the people I had worshipped.

I didn't die that night. I boarded the plane to Seattle with a frozen heart.

They thought they were selling me to a monster. They didn't realize they were handing me a King.

The next time the Morgans saw me, I wasn't their victim.

I was the woman coming to burn their empire to the ground.