Let Me Go, My Mafia Husband (Aria and Alessandro)

Thu, Oct

Let Me Go, My Malia Husband

Chapter 74 Perfect Bride

"Alexander, he left, Camille sighed, looking at her angry son who was still glaring in the direction Oliver had gone.

"I am

still telling you, Mother, they are not trustworthy, Alexander muttered bitterly, his jaw clenched with

frustration.

"Alright, now return to the main topic. I can't wait for the results to come. By the way, when are they coming?" Camille asked, her excitement palpable.

"It's coming in two days," Alexander replied, his mood shifting as a hopeful smile spread across his face at the thought of finding his lost sister.

"That's great, Alexander, Camille smiled, though hesitation glinted in her eyes. "I actually called you for something else," she said calmly.

"What was it, Mother?" Alexander asked, furrowing his brow, his hands tucked into the pockets of his pants.

"Alexander, have you thought about marrying?" Camille asked, knowing her son didn't like this question and always intentionally avoided discussing his marriage.

Mother! Alexander turned his back, avoiding looking into his mother's eyes. He had told her so many times, and she knew it-that he didn't like to discuss it anymore and he was not interested in marrying at the moment.

"You know I won't get married until I find my lost sister and then I will hand her the whole estate and wealth that rightfully belongs to her. Only then will I think about settling down in my life," he reasoned, his tone indifferent. "Alexander, you know we don't know how much longer it will take, but I can't stay young forever. I want to see you settled and have children, son. For my sake, you have to consider the proposals of marriage sent by many noble families," Camille insisted, her voice trembling with a mixture of concern and urgency.

That was the problem. Alexander didn't want to marry because there was always a condition that his bride should be from a noble family.

"Mother, you know I won't marry another woman but Chloé Martin. She is the love of my life and means everything to me," Alexander declared with authority, his eyes blazing with determination.

"But Alexander, you can't marry a cabaret dancer. She is not even from a noble family. The people of Monaco won't accept her as their duchess, and even the royal council, including the king, will disapprove. You can even lose your title, Camille reminded him of the harsh consequences,

"I don't care about titles or what others think. I want to be with her, Alexander declared stubbornly, his jaw set-in defiance,Belonging to NôvelDrama.Org.

Camille sighed, her heart heavy with worry. The men in her life were foolish when it came to choosing women who were worthy of their love. She knew Chloe was a gold digger, and was likely interested in Alexander's wealth and status, not just his love. But blind in love, Alexander couldn't see it.

"Then be prepared to relinquish your title as Duke of Monaco and let your cousin Oliver take over," Camille suggested gently, concern shadowing her eyes. She knew it was a sensitive nerve for Alexander.

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Chapter 74 Perfect Bride

his sides, weighing his options carefully before responding.

"I can't let that fool take over my inheritance and tarnish the Montecarlo family reputation," he muttered. through clenched teeth, his voice edged with determination.

"Then marry a noble woman." Camille suggested, her brow furrowing as she noticed the defiant glint in Alexander's eyes and saw his lips parting to protest. Quickly, she added, "If you want, you can have Chloé by

your side as your mistress. After all, men in elite families are known to have many mistresses, but their wives should be from noble families to continue their legacy and provide heirs," she reasoned, hoping to find a compromise. Alexander looked at his mother with a mix of frustration and resignation. The conflict between his love for Chloé and his family's expectations was evident in his expression.

"Alright," he huffed out in frustration. "Choose a bride for me.

"Take a look. I have many excellent profiles of girls from elite families selected for you, Camille gestured towards the adjacent table where files were neatly organized. Casting a bored glance at the files, Alexander grimaced inwardly, his heart heavy with reluctance. "I will marry anyone you say. I don't care about her looks or name. The only condition is that she should be from a noble family and ready to fulfill the duties of a Duchess of Monaco. To be my trophy wife, he stated indifferently before turning his back and making his way towards the door.

"Then one girl caught my eye. She is perfect in every way, Camille spoke, her voice resonating with joy. "Her name is Hazel, but her father..."

Alexander halted in his tracks and cut his mother off abruptly. "I don't care about her father or her family. If you think she is a suitable bride for me, set a date for the wedding and let me know. I'll need to check my schedule," he said coldly, his tone devoid of warmth or enthusiasm.

"Don't you want to meet her before the marriage and get to know her?" Camille questioned, surprise evident in her voice.

""Does it matter?" Alexander shrugged nonchalantly.

For him, there was only one woman who was perfect: Chloé Martin. The girl he was being pressured to marry would only be his wife in name. She needed to understand her position in the family hierarchy. Already, Chloé had moved in with him, kept secret from the media by his security detail. However, after marriage, he had no intention of hiding Chloe. It was a ritual among noble families to marry for alliances, and men often had mistresses whom they truly loved.

With one last expressionless glance at his mother, Alexander left, striding authoritatively toward e grand exit of the palace. Camille watched her son with a heavy heart, understanding that even if he love Chloé, marrying her would be a bigger mistake than marrying Hazel. She knew sacrifices had been made through the ages, and she was willing to make them again for a good life and a better future for her son and future generations to come.

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