Chapter 5 - The Family Dinner
By Thursday evening, the illusion of our hasty marriage had to pass its ultimate test: the weekly Fierro family dinner.
According to Giovanni, missing it wasn't an option. Every Thursday, the patriarchs, matriarchs, and ambitious cousins of the Fierro empire gathered at the ancestral estate in Winnetka to break bread, measure each other's power, and carve up corporate territories.
And tonight, Giovanni was bringing home the mystery woman who had single-handedly destroyed their carefully curated dynastic merger with the Vance family.
"Are you nervous?" Giovanni asked, glancing over at me as the black sedan cruised down the shaded, maple-lined drive of the Winnetka estate.
I smoothed the fabric of my dress—a stunning, deep-emerald silk gown that Giovanni’s stylist had delivered to the mansion two days ago, perfectly matching the stone on my ring finger.
"I've worked the night shift in the pediatric emergency room on Halloween," I replied, adjusting the diamond-encrusted bracelet on my wrist. "I think I can survive a room full of arrogant billionaires."
Giovanni chuckled, reaching across the center console to take my hand. His thumb brushed over my knuckles, steadying the slight tremor in my fingers. "Just let me do the talking. Your only job tonight is to look like the most fortunate woman in Illinois."
"That part won't be hard," I murmured, looking out the window as the grand iron gates swung open. "Considering the alternative was eating instant ramen in my one-bedroom apartment."
The car stopped beneath a massive stone portico. Thomas, who had accompanied us for the evening, opened the door with practiced precision.
As we walked up the limestone steps toward the towering mahogany doors, I took a deep breath, squaring my shoulders. I wasn't the girl sitting by the kitchen doors anymore. I was Jessica Fierro.
The heavy doors swung inward, revealing a foyer that looked like a museum wing. Standing at the far end of the grand hall, flanked by two formidable-looking uncles and an immaculately dressed woman with iron-grey hair and razor-sharp cheekbones, was Elena Fierro—Giovanni’s mother.
The conversation in the foyer instantly died.
Every eye in the room locked onto us. Elena’s gaze swept over me like a laser scanner, lingering on the emerald ring on my finger before rising to meet my eyes with undisguised hostility.
"Giovanni," Elena said, her voice dripping with frost. "You missed the pre-dinner board review. And you brought... a guest."
"Not a guest, Mother," Giovanni said, his voice dropping into a tone of absolute, unbreakable authority that made the uncles shift uncomfortably. "My wife."
A collective gasp echoed through the foyer.
Elena stepped forward, her heels clicking sharply against the marble. "Your wife? Without family consultation? Without a formal engagement announcement in the Tribune? You expect us to believe that you suddenly married a... a nobody?"
"Watch your mouth, Elena," Giovanni warned, stepping half an inch closer to me, his body acting as an impenetrable wall between his mother and me. "Jessica is my legal, lawfully wedded wife. The marriage papers were filed and certified on Monday morning."
"This is an outrage!" one of the uncles bellowed, stepping out of the group. "What about the Vance contract? Victoria’s father has already threatened legal action over the canceled shipping agreements! You threw away a billion-dollar alliance for—for what?"
The silence that followed was suffocating.
Elena stared at me, her eyes narrowing with calculated venom. She clearly thought I was a gold-digger, a social climber who had trapped her son in a moment of weakness.
"Tell me, Miss... Hale," Elena sneered, putting heavy emphasis on my maiden name. "What exactly does a pediatric nurse from the county hospital bring to the Fierro dynasty? Aside from a desperate need for financial elevation?"
Before Giovanni could open his mouth, I stepped out from his shadow.
I didn't cower. I didn't look down at my shoes. I raised my chin, letting the emerald ring catch the light of the crystal chandelier overhead, and smiled with the quiet, devastating calm of someone who had nothing left to lose.
"I bring the one thing your son’s portfolio was missing, Mrs. Fierro," I said, my voice carrying clearly across the grand hall. "Absolute immunity from people like you."
May you like
Elena’s jaw dropped. The uncles stared in absolute shock.
And beside me, Giovanni let out a slow, deeply satisfied breath, slipping his arm securely around my waist and pulling me tight against his side.
