Farewell to My Undercover Ex The Fall and Rebirth of a Mafia Princess Chapter 03
A few days ago, a wedding photo of him popped up in our college group chat.
The bride was Claire Bennett. Of course it was.
My college roommate. My best friend.
She’d grown up dirt–poor in a small town no one had heard of.
Nothing flashy about her: thick–framed glasses, hair always pulled
back, nose always in a textbook.
She worked harder than anyone I knew. Proud, but always carrying
the weight of where she’d come from.
When our English professor told her she sounded like a hick, I
watched the color climb up her neck. But she didn’t flinch.
I reached out to her first.
I pulled her into the Debate Team Declan and I ran.
Maybe it was the shared background: two kids who’d clawed their
way up from nothing. Whatever it was, they clicked right away.
Or maybe they just made sense together.
The cheap dining hall food I couldn’t stand? They both loved it.
I wore color. They both lived in black: practical, no thinking required.
Whenever we split up a group project, they’d pick the same option
without even talking about it.
But everything between them ran through me. They kept their
distance, never crossed a line.
So I never saw it coming.
After graduation, Claire couldn’t find work.
She came to me for help.
So I got her a job at one of my father’s legitimate fronts and asked Declan to look out for her.
After that, it wasn’t the three of us anymore. This time, I wasn’t there as a buffer.
That’s when it started.
Why Claire?
Probably because he didn’t have to pretend with her. She was the one person he could be real with.
I had no idea.
Then on my wedding day, Claire ran to Declan, threw her arms around him, and said through tears.
“You did it. Ten years, Dec. You don’t have to hide anymore.”
Ten years.
That’s how long it took me to see who he really was.
He just stood there right across from me, his face completely blank,
looking up at me like I was the one on trial.
My head was spinning.
Was my dad okay? How long had this been going on?
And when, exactly, did you both start lying to me?
He didn’t give me the chance to ask. He walked straight toward me, Claire right behind him.
His voice was all business.
“He’ll be held while the investigation is pending. Pack him some clothes and send them to the federal lockup.”
His gaze caught on my ruined makeup for half a second.
I threw the bouquet at his face. Then I grabbed a champagne glass and hurled it at him.
Champagne splashed across Claire’s pink dress.
She looked up at him, shaking.
“Don’t fall apart on me now, Dec. Loving her was part of the cover. You didn’t actually fall for your own mark… did you?”
That snapped him back.
He grabbed another glass and tossed his drink right in my face.
“There. We’re even. That’s for Claire. We’ll talk when you calm down.”
Then he took Claire’s hand and walked out…
I didn’t sleep for days.
They hit us with RICO charges. Froze everything. The accounts, the properties, all of it.
I dodged the camera crews, hired lawyers, tried to piece together what was real.
And for what? None of it could be undone.
That’s when it finally hit me.
My father was a criminal. Not on the edges. All the way through.
Twenty–six years of what I thought I knew, gone.
People are complicated. Nobody is all one thing.
He’d done terrible things. But he loved me. He donated millions. He
tried, in his own way, to do some good.
And nobody is all good either.
Just like Declan.
The media called him a hero. “The White Knight.” “The Cop Who Broke the Mob.”
But when I walked into our bridal suite, he had Claire pinned against the wall, his mouth on hers.
My knees finally gave out.
I hit the floor.
“And then what?!” Nolan’s voice cracked through the car. “What the hell happened after that?”
“After that?” I turned toward the window. “I don’t remember. I
think I almost died.”