LOGINMatteo and I set the wedding for early autumn.The ceremony took place at the D'Amico estate north of New York. Black cars filled the grounds. Representatives from the East Coast, Sicily, and Chicago arrived under heavy security.I wore a simple white wedding dress with no dramatic skirt and no excessive jewelry. Matteo had once told me I did not need anything to prove I deserved that wedding.When I walked toward him, his eyes never left me.He did not look at me with judgment. He did not look at me with compensation. He did not look at me as someone else’s shadow.He looked at me with certainty.Just before we exchanged rings, I saw a familiar figure outside the estate.Adrian.He did not approach. He did not try to break in. He only stood at a distance in a black suit, quiet as a past that could no longer be rewritten.Matteo followed my gaze and understood.He showed no displeasure. He only asked softly, "Do you regret it?"The guests had gone very quiet.Wind moved through the ros
When I returned to the D'Amico residence, Matteo was in the kitchen.An East Coast mafia heir stood with his sleeves rolled up in front of a pot and a cutting board full of tomatoes. The picture looked so wrong that I almost laughed before I reached the door.He looked up and noticed my mood at once. "Who did you run into?""Someone irrelevant."Matteo did not ask more. He turned the heat down and came over to take off my coat. "Dinner will be late. It’s my first time making seafood risotto, and the chance of failure is high."I couldn’t help smiling. "The D'Amico heir has things he’s bad at?""Of course." He looked serious. "Making you eat on time, for one. Getting you to admit you’re tired, for another."I looked at him and suddenly felt that the past was like a distant city light. I could still see it, but it no longer lit the road under my feet.I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around his waist.Matteo paused, then held me back. "What’s wrong?""Nothing." I pressed my face aga
The evening after our engagement was announced, I left the Manhattan headquarters for home.Our car stopped at a red light when a man suddenly stepped in front of it. The bodyguards drew their guns at once, and the driver hit the brakes.Through the window, I saw Adrian Moretti standing in the headlights.Three years had changed him. He was thinner. The once untouchable heir now carried exhaustion in his eyes, and dark stubble shadowed his jaw.I lowered the window halfway."Mr. Moretti, do you need something?"The address made his face pale."Elena." His voice was hoarse. "I’ve been looking for you for three years.""I know.""Then why wouldn’t you see me?"I looked at him calmly. "Because there was no need."Adrian’s throat moved as if every word cost him. "I know about the red cape now. That night by the lake, you saved me. Not Celeste."I said nothing."I also read your notebook." His eyes reddened. "Elena, I was wrong. I was wrong from the beginning. I treated her lie as a life de
My relationship with Matteo became public without any grand spectacle.There were no roses covering the floor, and no staged show with reporters blocking the door. At one Commission dinner, someone tested him by placing me in the seat below his. Matteo pulled the chair beside him in front of everyone."She sits here."After that, New York’s underground understood.The future mistress of D'Amico was not a woman taken in out of pity. She was someone who could sit beside Matteo and read ledgers, negotiate, pull a trigger, and set rules.Meanwhile, news from Chicago still reached me from time to time.After Celeste took over the South Dock redevelopment, trouble surfaced in the first year. She thought the family ring and a list of contacts would let her copy my results. She did not understand that those names were held together by years of credibility.She changed contractors without warning and angered the union. To prove herself to Adrian, she launched the casino license application earl
The day after I met Victor D'Amico, I went with him to New York.The D'Amico headquarters was not some gaudy mansion. It was a plain black building in Manhattan. The lower floors housed a legal security company and an investment fund. The upper floors held the true heart of the East Coast Commission.When Victor took me into the conference room, lawyers, accountants, security chiefs, and representatives from several branch families filled the table.He threw the South Dock plan onto the table. "She dragged Moretti out of the mud and onto a negotiating table. She can save D'Amico five years of mistakes. From today on, Elena Vega is my special consultant."Some people were not convinced.Victor tapped the table. "If you don’t like it, ask her questions. If you stump her, the seat is yours."That afternoon, they took turns throwing problems at me: port taxes, underground casino cleanups, federal investigation risks, union strikes, and the laundering of old assets into clean structures.I
That night, the Moretti estate held the family dinner as planned.Celeste wore a white satin dress and sat beside Adrian while relatives and capos congratulated her. Her smile looked gentle and polished. She already carried herself like the mistress of the estate.One chair at the table remained empty. It was Elena’s seat.For twenty years, she had sat there during family meetings and private dinners. The seat was close to Vito and not far from Adrian, which let her push bad numbers and reckless decisions back across the table before anyone did something stupid.Celeste spotted the chair, and her smile thinned. She walked over and kicked one leg of it."Why is there still a place for an outsider at this table?"The old butler lowered his head. "I’m sorry, Miss Vale. It was my mistake."He was about to remove it when Adrian spoke. "Put it back."The dining room went silent.Celeste turned to him, her face slightly pale. "Adrian, what do you mean?"Adrian didn’t look at her. He spoke onl







