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Chapter 1: The Ballroom Cataclysm The moment my palm slipped into Giovanni Fierro’s, the ambient noise of the Bellmont Grand’s top-floor ballroom seemed to evaporate. Two hundred society elites, wedding guests, and corporate sharks stopped mid-sentence. / Chapter 7 / 20

Chapter 7 - The Secret Document

The kitchen was silent save for the hum of the refrigerator.

I stood by the island, my chest heaving slightly from the adrenaline rush of the confrontation. I looked at Giovanni, who was still staring at the doorway where his family had just exited, his jaw tight.

“You didn't have to do that,” I whispered.

“Yes, I did,” Giovanni replied, turning his gaze back to me. He walked closer, stopping just a foot away. “This house is your home, Jessica. No one—family or otherwise—has the right to make you feel unwelcome here.”

“Even if the marriage is just a three-year contract?” I asked, my voice barely audible over the kitchen hum.

Giovanni went still. His amber eyes searched my face, tracking every micro-expression with intense focus.

“Who said anything about three years anymore?” he asked quietly.

My breath caught. “Giovanni... what are you talking about?”

Before he could answer, his private phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out, glanced at the screen, and his expression darkened instantly.

“What is it?” I asked, sensing the sudden shift in the atmosphere.

“Marko found something,” Giovanni said, sliding his phone back into his pocket. “Something concerning your ex-husband.”

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The rain tapped a frantic rhythm against the glass of Marissa’s cramped, dimly lit kitchen, but the storm outside was nothing compared to the tempest raging inside Adrian Whitmore’s mind. Standing just beyond the rotting wooden doorframe of her apartment, hidden by the heavy shadows of the crumbling stairwell, the millionaire tried to steady his breathing. His expensive wool coat was soaked through, but he didn’t care. His eyes were entirely fixed on the scene unfolding a few feet away.

The rain tapped a frantic rhythm against the glass of Marissa’s cramped,...

My hand froze inches from the cold steel of the Sig Sauer P226. Beneath the amber glow of the bedside lamp, the source of the warmth against my side wasn't an assassin, an operative from a rival syndicate, or a traitorous lieutenant.

My hand froze inches from the cold steel of the Sig Sauer P226. Beneath...

The silence in the master bedroom stretched so tight I could hear the slow, heavy drip of my own pulse in my ears. Dominic Rossi’s dark eyes locked onto mine, burning with a feverish intensity that should have sent me running back down the hallway and out into the rain

The silence in the master bedroom stretched so tight I could hear the sl...

“Tyler?” I frowned. “What does Tyler have to do with any of this?”

“More than you think,” Giovanni said grimly. “Come down to the study.”

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