I Became My Ex-Fiancé’s Aunt

The day I married Vincent Sorrentino, Lena, the Sorrentino family's adopted daughter, threatened to jump off the steeple of the family church. Vincent left me standing at the altar in my custom wedding gown—no hesitation, just bolted after her. With every New York crime boss, politician, and oligarch staring at me, I looked out at the crowd and said loud and clear: "Any man who walks up here right now can marry me." Chaos erupted. In the commotion, I took the bouquet from my maid of honor, turned sharply, and walked straight to the emergency exit at the back of the church—Vincent's older brother, Blake Sorrentino, was leaning against the wall, as if he had been waiting for me all along. He raised an eyebrow. "Where are you going, sister-in-law?" I stood on my toes and whispered in his ear: "To your bed." Our elopement made headlines. A week later, when Vincent burst into our honeymoon suite, I was already pregnant. I tossed the pregnancy test at his feet and smiled. "That's right. It's a Sorrentino baby, of course."