"My Fiancé Stole My Sister. So I Married the Most Feared Mafia Boss in Chicago."

Down on the main floor, standing near the champagne tower, Julian Moretti’s smile evaporated so fast it looked like a physical blow. Next to him, Serena clutched a glass of sparkling water so tightly her knuckles turned chalk-white, her eyes widening in sheer, unadulterated horror as she stared at the obsidian silk gown hugging my frame.

Further back, near the arched windows, my mother dropped her crystal flute. It shattered against the marble floor with a sharp, echoing crash that pierced the quiet.

“Evelyn...?” my mother choked out, taking an involuntary step forward before two of Nikolai’s armed guards quietly, effortlessly stepped into her path.

Nikolai didn't look at my family. He didn't look at the trembling politicians or the stunned society reporters frantically reaching for their phones. His eyes remained fixed straight ahead as he escorted me down the wide marble staircase, his hand resting securely at the small of my back, signaling to every single person in this room that I belonged to him—and that anyone who crossed me was answering to the most dangerous man in the Midwest.

We reached the center of the floor beneath the grand crystal chandelier. Nikolai raised a single hand, and the murmurs died down instantly.

“Good evening,” Nikolai’s voice carried effortlessly across the room, cold, smooth, and absolute. “I wanted to make sure our family and business associates were among the first to know. My brother Julian has spent the last twenty-four hours celebrating a new union. I figured it was only appropriate that I announce one of my own.”

Julian finally found his voice, pushing his way through the crowd with his face flushed a furious, mottled red. “Nikolai! What kind of sick game are you playing? You can't just—she was my—!”

“She was never yours, Julian,” Nikolai cut him off, his voice dropping into a lethal, quiet register that made several veteran capos step back. “You dropped a diamond and picked up a pebble. Don't confuse your poor judgment with my property.”

The insult landed like a physical punch. Serena burst into tears, burying her face against Julian’s shoulder, while my father pushed his way forward, his face pale with panic.

“Nikolai—Mr. Moretti,” my father stammered, his voice trembling as he addressed the man he had spent years trying to impress. “Surely this is a misunderstanding. Evelyn is a good girl, but she’s... she’s not suited for—logistics, or... or family business. We can discuss a proper match—!”

I stepped out from beside Nikolai, looking down at the man who had traded me off without a second thought.

“Father,” I said, my voice carrying clearly across the silent ballroom. “You always told me to make sure I didn't embarrass the family.” I let a cold, razor-thin smile touch my lips. “How am I doing so far?”

My father opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water, unable to utter a single syllable.

Nikolai turned his head slightly toward me, a flicker of genuine approval in his dark eyes. Then he looked back out over the stunned crowd.

“The council vote is in two weeks,” Nikolai announced to the silent room. “And my wife will be sitting by my side when we reshape every contract in this city. If anyone has an objection... speak now. Or forever hold your peace.”