The Rejected Principessa Returns novel Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Ten years after our divorce, I ran into my ex-husband and my adoptive brother in Brooklyn.

We had not seen each other in years.

One held the keys to City Hall; the other, the throat of the city's underworld, while I was running a tiny cake shop with a space no larger than a postage stamp.

The moment our eyes met, all three of us froze.

Then Dominic quietly hid the pregnancy test results behind his back, and Vincent slipped the jewelry he had bought for his sister into his coat pocket.

I lowered my gaze, packed the macarons, and handed the box across the counter with polite calm. "Your order is ready, gentlemen. Enjoy."

The transactional coldness in my voice cut through them like a winter draft. As they reached the door, Dominic suddenly turned back.

"You once said you'd never make cheesecake again." He paused. "I remember."

I offered a courteous smile. "Youth is a fever, Mr. Mayor. Eventually, it breaks."

Children were laughing out in the street, the sound muted through the glass door, yet it could not disperse the heavy stillness inside the shop.

The two men who had once worked together to drive me out of Manhattan still stood at the counter, unwilling to leave.

Dominic clutched the warm macaron box, his throat tightening.

"Rhea's pregnancy symptoms have been rough. She thinks Manhattan is too crowded, too noisy. We brought her to Brooklyn for a while."

He paused.

"And your mother… she came too. Do you want to see her?"

I wiped down a piping bag and shook my head. "There's no need. Send my regards to Madre Natalie."

I hesitated, then added, "Or don't mention me. It may cause misunderstandings."

Vincent's fingers tightened, the knuckles going white. "Amelia, these past years, we actually—"

"Amelia!"

I organized a stack of invoices. "They were just customers."

"If I really knew people like that," I tapped her forehead gently, "would I still be waking up early every day to bake cheesecake for you?"

Ember scrolled through her phone, then rolled her eyes. "Apparently the mayor's wife is the Don's sister. No wonder they're close."

"And rumor has it they're staying here in Brooklyn for her pregnancy. Imagine choosing this neighborhood over a Manhattan townhouse. Must be nice to be that pampered."

I murmured a quiet "hmm" and tossed the empty piping bag into the trash.

How well they pampered Rhea… of course I knew.

Because ten years ago, one of them had me thrown into a psychiatric hospital on our wedding night, turning me into a public laughingstock.

The other announced my death to the world and cast me out of Manhattan with his own hands.

Together, they destroyed me perfectly, seamlessly, and sent me straight into hell.