He Faked My Sex Tape for My Family's Fortune, So I Changed Grooms at the Altar

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Out of nowhere, Lorenzo's woman since childhood lifted her glass to make a toast at the pre-union sit-down, the long table crowded with allied families under the low amber light of the Valente social club.

First toast to Lorenzo Bruno, the groom. Since you're getting married, don't try to grab my underwear before watching an action movie from now on!

Everyone burst out laughing. In fact, Bianca laughed so hard she nearly fell into his arms.

When Bianca saw the unhappy look on my face, she raised her glass again with a teasing grin.

"And the second toast to the bride. Look at this young woman. She must've been good in bed. Lorenzo will definitely like it!"

Lorenzo quickly grabbed Bianca, covering her mouth as he softly laughed.

"Dio, Bianca! Why are you always thinking like that?"

She leaned away from Lorenzo and said, "Anyway, Adriana, you know that Lorenzo and I grew up together. You're not mad, right?"

I just let out a smile. My thumb turned the heavy signet ring on my right hand a half-rotation, slow, beneath the edge of the table where no one watched.

"Why would I be upset? We're all like childhood friends here."

Everyone stared at me, seemingly surprised. Meanwhile, Lorenzo put his arm around my shoulders and tapped my nose in response.

"Adriana, you're being so calm today! I thought you'd be the type to get jealous and throw a fit."

Bianca jumped in right away, tossing her hair and laughing a beat too loudly.

"Exactly! The girls Lorenzo ran with before were all so fake. They couldn't deal with us, his own crew. We always ended up cutting them loose!"

"You know that old saying? Friends are bound like blood until the end, even when you fight, but you can always throw women out like a worn coat when you fight!" Bianca exclaimed before she reached for Lorenzo again.

"So, Lorenzo, do you want to go around without a coat or without blood? Anyway, I still have your baby pictures with no clothes on!"

My soon-to-be husband just laughed as he pushed her hand away.

"Bianca, please stop messing around! Adriana is right here!"

Bianca rolled her eyes.

"Why didn't you say that when you were playing with my bra straps and practicing how to unhook them? I had a man of my own back then!"

She grabbed my arm and pouted.

"Adriana, you have to make him pay me back! He ruined so many of my bras!"

I held her arm and asked, "Are you planning to give the same toast tomorrow, when both families are seated and the union is sworn?"

Bianca froze, clearly shocked that I had asked that. Indeed, today was only the rehearsal. By the old tradition our bloodlines kept, both the bride and groom would have someone stand and make a toast before the assembled families at the union itself.

Everything had been going smoothly until Bianca raised her empty glass and started talking again.

"So, you're saying I shouldn't say that?" Bianca asked, curled her lips and slammed her glass on the table.

The loud thud made everyone fall silent. A soldier near the wall shifted his weight; the room seemed to hold its breath.

"Lorenzo, your wife is being way too much. What did I even say? I was just being honest!"

Lorenzo's eyes moved between Bianca and me. He wet his lower lip and glanced, just for an instant, toward the head of the table where the older men sat. Finally, he held my hand and shook it lightly. After that, he smiled at her.

"Bianca, you're like my own blood. You just took my wife into the crew. Don't fight with her, okay?"

Bianca stomped her foot angrily at what he just said.

"Lorenzo, I've stood by you all these years for nothing! You're not even married yet and you're already siding with her!"

After that, Lorenzo turned toward me.

"Adriana, go apologize to Bianca. I'll get her to change her toast and then it'll all be fine."

He gently pushed me toward her. The rest of his crew joined in.

"Adriana, say sorry to Bianca and make her happy. Only then can you marry Lorenzo."

"Yeah! Everyone knows Lorenzo listens to Bianca most of all. If you want a place among us, you need to win her over first!"

Bianca let out a laugh at once, tossing her hair and rapping her knuckles lightly against the man's chest.

"Franco, how many times do I have to tell you I'm the boss around here? Call me Bossie!"

Franco Rizzo, one of Lorenzo's soldiers, bobbed his head again and again like a man agreeing with the barrel of a gun.

"Yes, yes, Bossie! My mistake!"

My soon-to-be husband's crew burst out laughing. They cheered and pounded the table, and it seemed they'd forgotten entirely that I, the bride, the daughter of Don Valente, was still standing among them.

When Bianca had laughed herself out, she looked from me to Franco and gave a sly nod.

"The both of you owe me an apology. But words are cheap. Here's the deal. Each of you drinks a whole bottle. Then we're square."

Lorenzo was the first to clap, wearing his pride like a borrowed coat.

"There it is! Bianca, always so generous!"

The others followed, applause rolling loud around the private room, while my face went colder and colder. A waiter brought two bottles a moment later, moving quick and quiet the way men move when they can feel a room turning. Bianca poured herself a glass first and lifted it toward Franco.

"Franco, I know you're not feeling right today. I'll take this one for you."

She threw it back in a single swallow, earning another round of cheers. It brought Franco near to tears. He drained what was left of his half-bottle.

"Thank you, Bianca! Friends for life!"

When they'd finished slapping each other's backs, every eye in the room swung to me.

"Your turn, Lorenzo's girl!" someone called.

Lorenzo slid an arm around my waist, staking a claim in front of his men.

"Why are you calling her that? Just say Lorenzo!"

"Sure, sure, Lorenzo, drink up!"

Lorenzo leaned in and murmured against my ear, "Adriana, just drink it. Think of it as a favor to me."

I looked at him without a flicker of feeling. "Lorenzo. You know I'm allergic to alcohol."

Lorenzo froze. His face shifted as the memory came back to him. Years ago he'd gotten drunk at a sit-down with some associates and sent for me to bring him home.

The greasy old men around that table wouldn't let him walk out unless I drank a glass with them first. To get Lorenzo clear of it, I'd taken the full tumbler of hard liquor they pushed at me and swallowed it down in one go. Lorenzo had only ended up drunk that night. I ended up being rushed to the emergency room.

The doctor told us my organs had nearly shut down from the reaction. If I'd been brought in even a little later, I might not have survived.

The day I was discharged, Lorenzo had held my hand, his eyes red, and swore, "Adriana, I'll never let anyone force a drink on you again."

And now, to please this so-called childhood friend of his, Lorenzo was asking me to put down an entire bottle. I clenched my fists, anger rising in me. He only lowered his voice and tried to smooth it over.

"Adriana, don't make a scene. My men are watching."

"Besides, it's only wine. Low proof. Drink it, go to the ladies' room, bring it back up. It won't do you any harm."

Hearing that turned my heart to stone. For the first time, I wondered whether binding myself to this man in an alliance marriage was ever the right choice.

Someone in the crew pressed me, loud. "Adriana, come on! We're all waiting on you!"

Before I could answer, Bianca cut in with a laugh, a beat too loud.

"Hey, you know the old saying, don't you? Nothing sweeter than the pie, nothing better than the, well. You know."

She threw me a pointed look and added lightly, "Your Lorenzo can be a bit of a flirt, but don't set your sights too high, all right?"

My brows drew together. I turned to Lorenzo. "What is she saying?"

"Lorenzo, you've been carrying on with me right out in the open a good while now, and still you can't quit, hm?"

Then she gasped, theatrical, and clapped a hand over her mouth as though she'd let too much slip.

"Oh no, did I just say the quiet part out loud? Silly me."

She tapped her temple in that exaggerated, cutesy way, playing the fool. Even with an act that obvious, Lorenzo laughed. He caught Bianca's hand fondly.

"All right, all right. You were never the sharpest blade in the drawer, so don't go making yourself look worse."

Bianca pretended to be furious and pinched his side.

"Who are you calling dumb? How dare you insult your big sister! If I'm the dumb one, what does that make you? The dumber little brother?"

The room roared again, while I stood there, an outsider at my own pre-union sit-down.

Seeing that Bianca and Lorenzo were about to slide back into their little game, I snatched the wine bottle off the table.

"So. You want me to drink to make amends, is that it? Fine. I'll drink."

Bianca's lips curved into a smug smile.

"Bianca, I've already finished this one. If you drink, I'll forgive you." I smiled back, holding the bottle high. "I remember you drank half for Franco earlier. Now, drink half for me too."

Then I tilted the bottle and poured the wine over Bianca's head. A sharp scream cut through the private dining room of the social club, echoing off the paneled walls where three families sat in silence. Every glass had gone still. While they gasped, no one at that table moved to stop me. I left the shouting behind me and had my driver take me home.

Once I arrived at the estate, I saw the halls decorated with white for the union. The sight made my chest tighten painfully. I grabbed my chest, leaning against the wall and slowly slid down until I was crouched on the floor. Tears blurred my vision.

Lorenzo and I had met years ago, before either family knew of the other's plans. At first, I just thought he was handsome. So when he made his intentions known, I let him court me.

But soon after, the Family's holdings collapsed and we nearly lost everything. When Lorenzo found out, he didn't leave me. Instead, he put every dollar he had into my hands and told me to see my father through it.

When he saw I could no longer afford the things a daughter of the blood was expected to carry, he took low work through a lean season and used what he earned to buy me a small thing of quality. I still remember him standing there, out of place among the working men, shyly holding out the gift.

That was the moment I knew Lorenzo was the man I wanted to bind my name to.

The Family recovered, and grew wealthy again not long after. When the alliance was discussed, my parents were not pleased with where Lorenzo stood in the world. But I believed he was the one I could weather any war with, so I insisted on the union.

Seeing how set I was, the Don gave Lorenzo a satellite crew of his own to run and settled a house on us as the marriage gift. We were to be bound tomorrow before every family that mattered. And today his own men had done something so vile.

My stomach twisted like I'd swallowed something rotten. I ran to the bathroom and threw up. Not long after, Lorenzo came home. He crossed the room toward me, his face dark with anger.

"Adriana! Who gave you the right to treat Bianca like that?"

I was still vomiting. But instead of asking if I was all right, his first instinct was to defend her. At that moment, I wondered if binding myself to him was a mistake.

I wiped my mouth and looked up at him with a cold sneer.

"Bianca? Did she grow something you don't have, or did you lose yours? Otherwise, how are you both the same gender?"

Lorenzo's face turned red with fury. He raised his hand.

"Adriana, shut up!"

Tears filled my eyes, anger burning in my chest.

"What now? You're going to hit me over that woman?"

Lorenzo froze, then slowly lowered his hand. He let out a long sigh and softened his tone. "Baby, don't be mad, okay? Bianca really is just a friend from way back. There's nothing between us."

His tongue passed over his lower lip, and his eyes flicked, just for an instant, toward the door, as if measuring who might be listening. "Besides, we're bound tomorrow. Your father spent a fortune and called in every debt for this union. You can't just throw it all away, can you?"

He smiled like nothing was wrong and tried to pull me close. I pushed him back and glared. I couldn't help but scoff. "Are you threatening me now?"

Lorenzo shrugged, casual.

"I'm just telling you how it is. And Bianca stands at my side tomorrow. I can't have my side of the aisle empty."

I let out a bitter laugh.

"I've never heard of a woman standing as a man's second."

Lorenzo lost his patience.

"There are plenty of things you've never heard of. Why make a war out of something so small?"

"A small matter?" I laughed. "This past year, I booked the finest room in the city six months ahead for one evening with you. That night, your so-called old friend called you away. You never came at all. Is that a small matter too?"

Lorenzo's brow creased, the picture of a man wronged.

"That night meant nothing. Bianca said someone was following her. She was frightened, walking those streets alone. So I went to make sure she was safe."

"You call her a woman with rank of her own. Why would a woman with rank fear a shadow at her back?"

My voice came out low and furious, and his face twisted with it.

"And here's the other thing. Last time I was away from the city for my birthday, I came home and found the two of you tangled together in the private room at the back of that restaurant, kissing like the rest of the world didn't exist. Did you think I was already in the ground?"

Lorenzo went still for a breath. Then the words came fast, too fast. "Who's spreading filth like that? It never happened."

I didn't waste air on argument. I picked up my phone and tossed it into his hands.

"See for yourself. Bianca put the video out for the whole world to watch. Don't you dare tell me you didn't know."

His jaw slackened. Then he dragged a hand hard through his hair, and the temper rolled off him like heat off a gun barrel.

"Enough. Why do you make yourself into this? If you carried even half of Bianca's grace, we wouldn't be standing here tearing at each other."

"Adriana, listen to me, and listen close. You will apologize to Bianca. If you don't, I won't stand beside you at the altar. There'll be no groom at tomorrow's union, and I would love to watch your family explain that to the assembled families."

The last threat had barely left his mouth when his phone rang. Everything in him changed in an instant. The venom drained out, and his voice went soft as silk.

"Where are you, cara? Don't be frightened. I'm coming to you now."

I saw the name burning on the screen. Bianca. He said nothing more to me. He slammed the door and was gone into the night.

A little while later, one of Lorenzo's crew sent me a video. Bianca, alone at a bar, a glass in her hand.

Then Lorenzo appeared and folded his arm around her. It didn't take long before their mouths met. Right after, Bianca herself sent me a handful of photographs. The two of them, kissing like they were starving for it.

Beneath the photos, she left a message dripping with mockery.

[Oops. Sent that to the wrong girl, didn't I, Adriana? You don't mind, do you?]

I rolled my eyes and blocked her number without answering. Then, without another thought, I began gathering Lorenzo's things, meaning to put every last piece of him out on the street. On the table beside the bed sat a small locked box. I forced it open. Inside were letters, written by hand, passed between Lorenzo and Bianca.

Lorenzo had written something.

[If Adriana weren't sitting on the Valente holdings, I couldn't stand the sight of her.]

And Bianca's answer made my blood run cold.

[Lorenzo, if I stole the bride away from you, would you come with me?]

His reply was worse still.

[Of course I would. But I haven't gotten my hands on the Valente cash yet. Wait for me a little longer, tesoro]

So I finally understood. Lorenzo wasn't binding himself to me out of anything as clean as love. He was marrying the Family's fortune, and he meant to bleed it for every dollar he could carry off. Not long after, my parents called to ask how the pre-union sit-down had gone.

I told them the evening had passed smoothly. One small change, nothing more.

"The groom needs replacing. Put in the man who's chased after me since we were children. The one who always called me 'sister.'"

Lorenzo had his precious girl from the old days, the one he crowned his 'big sister.' Well, I had a childhood of my own, and a boy in it I'd always called my 'little brother.' The next morning I sat in the hotel suite while they set my bridal face in place.

Lorenzo came in and laid both hands on my shoulders, a smug curl to his mouth.

"Adriana, so you've finally come to your senses. Bianca was generous enough to let us marry today, so you can make your apology to her tomorrow."

He leaned in, dropping his voice. "By the way. Didn't you buy that limited Chanel bag last month? Hand it over. Consider it a gift of apology."

Slowly, I raised my eyes to his.

Bianca had been flaunting that bag across every crew she could reach for weeks. It wasn't only the price. A piece like that moved through channels you couldn't touch unless someone with real standing vouched for you at the door. And now Lorenzo thought he could hand mine over with a few soft words? The insult was almost funny.

I said nothing, letting the woman finish my face. The night before, I'd made the call to my new groom. He agreed without a breath of hesitation.

Though the truth was, we hadn't stood in the same room in years. I had no notion of the man he'd become, or what kind of made man I was about to bind my blood to.

I finished, then let them ease me into the gown. When I stepped out, Lorenzo was already in the chair, asking the girl to touch up his face too, as if the day belonged to him. I stopped her before her hand moved.

"No need. He's a guest today. Nothing more."

Lorenzo went still.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

But I had no appetite for a fight in front of the arriving families. I turned and walked toward the doors to receive them. He followed at my heel, pressing, unable to leave it alone.

"Adriana, what are you saying? What do you mean by that?"

Before I could answer, the great screen at the head of the hall lit on its own. An obscene video began to play, and my face was on it. Breath left the room all at once. Every guest, every made man and his wife, turned to stare. My father's jaw set to stone. My mother's hand rose to her collarbone with the folded handkerchief pressed there, the old reflex of a woman holding the Family's name together.

"Adriana Valente, what is this?"

Then Bianca strolled out from behind the dais, her face arranged into false regret, tossing her hair as she came.

"I'm so sorry, Adriana." She laughed, a beat too loud for the silence. "I only meant to play the one of you and Lorenzo kissing. Who could have known I'd play... this."

Lorenzo's grip closed hard on my waist. He leaned in, and his voice dropped low and threatening. His tongue wet his lower lip, and his eyes cut once toward the men who held the room before he said it. "Marry me today, or this goes to every family in the city."

That was when the doors slammed open. The paid press and the curious muscle from outside poured in, phones raised, thrust into my face. Flashes cracked without pause as they took their photos, their footage, weapons of reputation aimed at a made family's daughter.

I was shaking with rage. These two, Lorenzo and Bianca, had staged every second of it from the start, a mortal offense laid bare before the assembled bloodlines. My mother's composure broke where a lifetime of it had never failed her, and she went down. I tried to reach her. The mob closed the space around me.

"Adriana, does the Don know what kind of slut he raised?"

"Probably put her own mother in the ground, whore like that."

"What's a night cost, eh? I'll even film it for you."

The filthy faces, the disgusting voices, turned my stomach. And while I was penned in, Lorenzo abandoned me there and ran to Bianca, folding her against him like a hero shielding some damsel. Just as the crowd surged to crush me, the screen went black.

The man nearest me took a fist square in the face. The next was thrown back off his feet with a blow to the chest. The mob broke and stepped away in fear.

As they retreated, I finally saw a figure I knew.

Salvatore Marchetti, my oldest friend, rolled his right shoulder once, slow, then closed his hand tight around my wrist.

"You gave me your word you'd call if you needed me to walk in and break this thing apart. Don't go back on it now."