She Thought the Mafia Boss Was Using Her to Practice on Another Woman—Until Gunmen Stormed Her Dress Shop and He Called Her His Fiancée

The Boston Harbor was shrouded in a thick midnight fog. Moored at the end of Pier 44 was the Imperator, a luxury ninety-foot yacht belonging to Hector Lombardi.

Inside the main cabin, Hector Lombardi was pacing nervously, sipping scotch while looking at his watch. His daughter Isabella sat on a leather sofa, filing her nails with an annoyed expression.

"What is taking them so long?" Isabella complained. "They were supposed to bring that fat dressmaker an hour ago so we could leave this pathetic city."

"Shut up, Isabella," Hector snapped. "Taking down Moretti isn't a quick job. But once we have his woman, he will surrender the shipping docks to save her."

Suddenly, the yacht lurched violently.

The sound of shattering glass and loud thuds echoed from the upper deck, followed by the panicked shouts of Lombardi’s bodyguards. Before Hector could reach for the hand-cannon in his desk drawer, the heavy glass doors of the cabin were kicked inward, showering the room with crystal shards.

Fourteen Moretti enforcers poured into the cabin, heavy tactical weapons raised, locking down every exit.

Then, Lorenzo Moretti walked into the cabin.

He had changed into a fresh black coat, his face clean, his silver eyes shining with absolute, cold fury. Beside him, walking hand-in-hand, was Meline Hayes. She wore Lorenzo’s heavy coat over her damaged velvet dress, her chin held high, her eyes fearless.

Isabella gasped, dropping her nail file as she scrambled backward on the sofa. "You... how are you alive?!"

Hector Lombardi froze, his face draining of all color as he looked at Lorenzo, then at Meline. "Moretti... this is a misunderstanding..."

"Is it?" Lorenzo asked, his voice deceptively soft as he stepped into the center of the cabin. "You bribed my guards. You sent fifteen assassins into my home. And you targeted my fiancée."

"She is a nobody!" Hector yelled, panic cracking his voice. "She’s a tailor from the gutters of Boston! You are risking a syndicate war over a common working woman?!"

Lorenzo walked slowly up to Hector Lombardi, stopping mere inches from the older man’s face. The pressure radiating from Lorenzo was so intense that Hector’s knees began to shake.

"She is not a nobody," Lorenzo said, each word dropping like a blade. "She is Meline Hayes. She constructed the clothes I wear, she commands the home I live in, and she possesses more bravery in her little finger than your entire family has in its bloodline."

Lorenzo leaned closer to Hector’s ear. "You brought violence to her shop. You brought war to my home. And now, Hector, your family is finished in New England."

"You can't kill me," Hector stammered, his eyes darting frantically. "The Commission in New York will destroy you!"

"The Commission has already been informed of your unauthorized attack," Lorenzo replied coldly. "They have officially stripped the Lombardi family of their Boston assets and handed them to the Moretti family. You have one hour to board a commercial train to New York. If I ever see you or your daughter in Boston again, I will not send guards. I will come myself."

Hector collapsed into a chair, completely defeated, his power stripped away in a single night. Isabella burst into hysterical tears, hiding her face in her hands.