THE GHOST WEARING WHITE: How I Tricked a Mafia Empire to Hunt My Sister’s Killer

My blood ran cold.

I reached down, grabbing the waiter’s wrist with a grip taught by my father—a nerve pinch that made his fingers go numb instantly. The handkerchief dropped to the floor.

"Who told you that name?" I hissed, Natalie’s sweet voice completely gone, replaced by the deadly chill of my own.

The waiter gasped in pain, his eyes widening in terror. "I—I don't know! A man gave me a thousand dollars to deliver the message and spill the wine! Please, lady, let go!"

Gabriel’s hand was on my shoulder. "Lauren, stop. People are looking."

I released the waiter, who scrambled back into the crowd like a frightened rabbit. My eyes scanned the ballroom, but Marco Moretti had vanished from the balcony.

"We have to go," I whispered to Gabriel. "Someone here knows. They know I'm Lauren."

"No," Gabriel said, his grip on my waist tightening. "If we run now, we admit defeat. We stay. We dance."

He led me onto the dance floor. The orchestra was playing a slow, haunting waltz. As Gabriel took my hand and pulled me close, the proximity was dizzying. He smelled of cedarwood and cold metal.

"You're shaking," he murmured, his eyes searching mine.

"I don't like being a target," I said.

"You're safe with me."

"My sister thought she was safe with you too," I shot back, the bitterness slipping out before I could stop it. "And now she's in a box."

Gabriel’s expression softened into something resembling genuine agony. "I loved her, Lauren. More than my own life. If I could trade places with her right now, I would do it without hesitation."

For a moment, I saw the man Natalie had loved—not the mafia monster, but a man burdened by a crown he never wanted.

Suddenly, my ring finger began to burn.

It was a sharp, localized heat, followed by a strange numbness that began to crawl up my hand. I pulled my hand away from Gabriel's shoulder and looked down.

The emerald-cut diamond ring was glowing slightly. No, not glowing—the metal backing of the stone had a tiny, microscopic needle protruding from it, which had pierced my skin.

"Gabriel," I gasped, my vision blurring. "The ring..."

"What?"

"It’s... it’s poisoned."

My knees buckled. Gabriel caught me before I hit the floor, his face twisting in panic.