At the planner’s urging, Vincent pulled Isabella into his arms. She svcked in a sharp breath, then buried her face against his ch//e//st.
“Serena,” he said, looking at me, “I know this is hard for you. After Isabella and I get married, I’ll make it up to you.”
Isabella tugged on his tie. “Vincent, wait. The wedding dress is still on Serena.”
Vincent’s brow tightened. “Serena, can you…?”
I stared at them, ice-cold. “Vincent, that gown was personally delivered by the Gambini family’s Don. It wasn’t meant for an illegitimate daughter to wear.”
Isabella flinched, then forced a smile. “You’re right, Serena. A tr@shy little B1TCH like me doesn’t deserve something that gorgeous. I got ahead of myself…”
“Don’t say that, Isabella,” Vincent murmured, pulling her closer, but when he looked at me his eyes turned hard. “Serena, are you taking it off yourself, or do I have my men do it?”
My fingers dug into the neckline of the dress.
“That gown was a reward for my service to the Gambini family,” Vincent said, lifting his chin. “You were only part of the planning. Who wears it is my decision.”
He’d forgotten that without my strategy, he never would’ve succeeded, but my father was right there, and I wasn’t about to shame him.
“It’s just a dress,” I said. “If you want it, take it.”
I started toward the dressing room, but Vincent snapped, “Wait.”
“There’s no time,” he said. “Take it off here and give it to Isabella.”
“You want me to undress here?” I spun back, stunned. “In front of everyone?”
Vincent glanced at his watch. “It’s nothing, Serena. Back when we trained with the crew, you changed in front of me all the time.”
A wave of shocked noise rolled through the wedding hall, and I caught the servants whispering, their words dripping with malice.
I became the punchline everyone couldn’t wait to repeat.
Not long after, my father returned from the Moretti estate.
“Sweethe@rt,” he said, “it’s settled. Your marriage is confirmed. In three days, they’ll send a car to pick you up.”
His eyes were w//e//t. “If you want to cry, then cry. You don’t have to hold yourself together like this.”
I smiled. “D@d, why would I cry? We’re about to form an alliance with the most powerful family there is.”
The next day, Vincent came with Isabella for a formal visit.
She walked up to me and took my hand. “Serena, I’m sorry about what happened yesterday. I’m not a jealous woman,” she said softly. “Vincent and I talked, and once things calm down, we’ll bring you into our family as Vincent’s second mistress.”
I yanked my hand away. “I’m Lorenzo Moretti’s future wi//fe, and you want me to be your husband’s mistress?”

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