From Maid to Madre

The tip was thrown at Gianna Rossi's feet just as the engagement party for the Gray Wolf famiglia's Principessa began.

She bent down to pick up the crumpled bills, but her gaze kept drifting to Matteo Santoro in the center of the crowd. Her throat tightened with bitterness.

Just this morning, they had been wrapped up in each other. Now, he was the Principessa's fiancé and the famiglia's newly promoted Underboss.

The sight of them embracing intimately was particularly painful to watch.

Gianna turned to leave. Before she could take a step, she heard a woman's languid sigh.

"Just drinking is so boring!"

Lucia Ricci toyed with her revolver, her beautiful eyes sweeping across the room before finally locking onto Gianna.

"Hey, you with the tray. Come here!"

"Principessa, how may I serve you?" Gianna lowered her voice, trying to disguise her natural tone.

The other woman tossed her a shot glass the size of a thumb and commanded, "Put it on your head."

Gianna looked up in shock, only to see Lucia waving the gun in her hand with an unrestrained smile.

"I'm in a good mood today. Let me show everyone my shooting skills."

Gianna's heart clenched. She looked desperately toward the distinguished, aloof man. Cigar smoke swirled around him, blocking his line of sight.

There was no rescue or intervention as she had hoped. He simply checked the safety, then handed the gun back to Lucia.

His movements were smooth and elegant, his tone indulgent. "Keep your hand steady. Don't frighten the guests."

"Hurry up!" A Soldato shoved Gianna roughly forward.

Gianna stumbled two steps, trembling as she raised her hand and placed the glass on top of her head.

"Don't shake. You're shaking so much that I can't aim properly." Lucia raised the gun with one hand, her posture arrogant and casual.

Facing the dark barrel of a gun, fear was instinctive.

A familiar cramping sensation seized Gianna's stomach. She bit her lip to control it, letting the taste of iron spread through her mouth.

The bullet grazed her scalp, and the glass shattered instantly.

Gianna tried to dodge the shards, but her legs gave out. She crashed backward into the towering champagne tower behind her.

Millions of dollars' worth of premium champagne cascaded down, burying her in the wreckage.

"What a waste! The Principessa's aim was perfect. Why did she even dodge?"

"That's limited edition vintage wine at hundreds of thousands a bottle!"

Gianna knelt on the broken glass. The shards had already pierced her knees, and the cramping in her stomach made cold sweat pour down her face. She could not even manage an apology.

She could only look toward that man through her disheveled hair.

He still stood in the same spot without even frowning. Then he reached out to wrap his arm around Lucia Ricci's shoulder. "Are you hurt?"

"So boring! She can't even be a decent target."

Only then did Matteo glance at her, as if she were a complete stranger.

"Today's a good day. Don't let the help ruin the mood."

Right. He was now Don Ricci's successor, the newly appointed Underboss of the Gray Wolf famiglia, a man of distinguished status.

She was just a girl raised in the slums. The difference between them was like heaven and earth. But the word "help" still pierced her heart like a poisoned blade.

"As for her..." He considered for a moment, his tone indifferent. "Drag her out. Don't let her be an eyesore in front of the Principessa again."

The butler looked relieved and immediately ordered men to drag her toward the back door. Her body was dragged across the carpet covered in glass shards. Blood and wine mixed together.

Still, Gianna did not struggle or cry out.

The vows he made to others intertwined with the estate's bell chimes, crashing brazenly into her ears. Every heartbeat came with a stabbing pain.

By the time she returned to the suburban villa, it was nearly midnight.

Gianna gasped for breath as she fumbled for the pill bottle by her pillow, trembling all over.

This was a specialty medication, only available through specific channels. The price was shockingly high.

She poured out two pills and swallowed them dry. Before the medication could take effect, her phone lit up with a transfer notification.

[Matteo transferred $50,000.00 to you.]

Immediately after came a brief message.

[Gigi, be good. Stop taking those part-time jobs. I can afford to take care of you.]

Seeing that name and remembering the decisive moment he handed over the gun, her stomach pain intensified again.

She turned off her phone, curled up under the blanket, and listened to the rain outside the window as her consciousness gradually faded.

She did not know how much time had passed when the bedroom door handle turned. She jolted awake.

A man stood in the doorway. His custom suit was somewhat wrinkled, and his tie had been loosened.

He carried a medical kit. His face still bore traces of rain, making him look travel-worn.

"Sorry, I woke you."

She did not speak. The room filled with the invasive smell of tobacco and women's perfume, repeatedly reminding her of tonight's nightmare.

Matteo did not mind her silence. The newly promoted Underboss who stood above others now knelt on one knee beside the bed, gently grasping her scarred calf.

"Be good. Don't move."

When she flinched instinctively, he pulled out tweezers and cotton swabs, carefully picking out the tiny glass fragments with a gentle, focused expression.

"Does it hurt badly?"

After treating her wounds, he tried to touch her face, but she turned her head away.

Gianna lowered her eyes and hesitated for a moment. "Shouldn't you be with the Principessa tonight?"

Why did he still come here? One moment cruel, the next kind.

Matteo's hand froze for a few seconds before he withdrew it.

He seemed to detest that title. His originally gentle expression instantly turned cold, revealing a trace of impatience.

"Why bring her up?"

He removed his coat, still damp with cold air, and slipped under the covers. From behind, he pulled Gianna completely into his embrace.

Matteo held her so tightly that it almost suffocated her. He buried his head in the crook of her neck, like a weary traveler who had finally found a place to rest.

"Gigi, it's just us now. Don't mention anyone else."

His warm breath teased her ear, his voice tender and low. "I just missed you."