Chapter 3 - Walking Through the RuinsI stepped out of the bridal suite with my mother walking calmly beside me.
I had changed out of the heavy, pearl-stitched wedding gown. In its place, I wore a sharply tailored charcoal-gray pantsuit that my father had bought me for my first major corporate negotiation five years ago. My hair was pulled back into a sleek, efficient ponytail. Every trace of the weeping, humiliated bride was gone, replaced by the unmistakable aura of an apex predator.
The two hundred guests parted like the Red Sea as I walked down the center aisle of the ballroom.
No one met my eyes. The elite of Manhattan—the men and women who ran syndicates, shipping lanes, and billion-dollar portfolios—suddenly found the intricate patterns of the marble floor intensely fascinating.
Matteo intercepted me halfway across the room.
His face was contorted with a mixture of absolute fury and stark, creeping terror. He lunged forward, grabbing my wrist with a grip that would have bruised me a year ago.
“What is this game, Isabella?” he hissed, his voice trembling with suppressed rage. “Turn off the servers. Call off your mother’s firm right now, or so help me God—securing your social standing in this city will be the last thing you ever worry about.”
I didn't flinch. I didn't try to pull my wrist away.
I simply looked down at his hand, then raised my gaze to meet his frantic eyes.
“You’re touching me without permission, Matteo,” I said, my voice carrying clearly across the silent ballroom. “That’s a compliance violation. Much like the twenty-six federal code infractions currently being routed directly to your personal social security number.”
His grip slackened instantly.
“My... what?”
“Did you really think Duca Strategic Intelligence was just a consulting firm?” I tilted my head, letting out a cold, humorless chuckle. “Matteo, your father built a third-rate smuggling operation that was three steps away from a federal penitentiary when my dad took pity on him. We didn't just advise your company. We shielded it. We absorbed every audit, bribed every inspector, and rewrote every illegal manifest so you could play billionaire in Manhattan.”
I leaned in closer, my voice dropping to a sharp whisper that only he could hear.
“And you just handed my ring to a woman who doesn't even know the difference between a customs declaration and a bill of lading. Enjoy your evening, CEO Romano. You have roughly forty-five minutes before the SEC freezes your personal assets.”
I pulled my wrist gently from his paralyzed fingers, smoothing the cuff of my jacket.
My mother was already waiting by the private elevators at the end of the hall, holding the mahogany door open for me.
May you like
As I walked past Selena—who was standing frozen near the bar, her ivory dress looking more like a shroud than a bridal gown—I didn't even spare her a glance.
The elevator doors slid shut, cutting off the view of the crumbling empire Matteo had built on top of my labor.
