She Woke Up in the Mafia Boss’s Bed by Mistake, but His Mother Saw the Shoes and Changed Everything

The Grand Ballroom of the Drake Hotel was a swirling sea of tuxedos, diamond necklaces, flash photography, and clinking champagne flutes.

The moment Matteo and Emma stepped through the archway, a wave of whispers swept across the room like wildfire. Cameras flashed frantically as society photographers scrambled to capture the first public image of the secretive Alpha of Romano Holdings and his mystery fiancée.

Matteo slid his hand smoothly around Emma’s waist, pulling her flush against his side. His touch was warm, solid, and intensely possessive.

“Smile, darling,” Matteo whispered into her ear, his lips brushing the sensitive skin of her earlobe. A shiver ran down Emma’s spine. “The Tribune reporter is at ten o'clock.”

Emma put on a radiant, blinding smile, leaning her head slightly against his shoulder as the camera flashes exploded before them.

“You’re very good at this,” Emma murmured through her pleasant smile.

“I’ve had thirty-nine years of practice hiding my intentions from predators,” Matteo replied smoothly, guiding her toward the main VIP reception area.

Standing near the ice bar was Donato Caruso, surrounded by three city aldermen and two rival real estate developers. Next to him stood Bianca, looking drop-dead gorgeous in a daring crimson dress that left very little to the imagination.

As Matteo and Emma approached, the group went quiet.

“Matteo,” Donato rumbled, offering a stiff nod. His eyes immediately darted down to Emma’s left hand. When he saw the blue sapphire ring, his jaw twitched visibly. “And Miss Collins. You clean up well for an event planner.”

“Thank you, Mr. Caruso,” Emma said, her tone cool and effortless. “Though I prefer to think I simply match the standard of the man holding my hand.”

Bianca stepped forward, her eyes locked onto the sapphire ring like laser beams. “The Romano heirloom,” Bianca whispered, her voice laced with venomous disbelief. “Sofia actually gave you the Empress Sapphire?”

“She did,” Emma replied sweetly. “She felt it suited me.”

Bianca’s eyes flashed with pure rage, but before she could speak, one of the aldermen—a rotund, middle-aged man named Henderson—chickened out a laugh.

“Well, congratulations, Matteo! A fine union! Though I must say, the city was shocked. We all assumed you were waiting for a partner with... shall we say, more substantial corporate capital backing.”

The comment was an unmistakable jab at Emma’s lack of wealth and pedigree.

Matteo’s posture instantly shifted. The ambient temperature around them seemed to drop by ten degrees. He took a half-step forward, placing himself slightly in front of Emma, his dark eyes locking onto Alderman Henderson with absolute, terrifying hostility.

“Alderman Henderson,” Matteo said, his voice dropping into a low, quiet roar that silenced the surrounding conversation. “Emma’s capital is her intellect, her unshakeable loyalty, and her character. Qualities that, if I recall correctly, were severely lacking in your last three campaign financial audits.”

Henderson’s face turned bright red, his mouth flapping like a landed fish as he took an embarrassed step back.

“If anyone in this room has an issue with my choice of a bride,” Matteo continued, his cold gaze sweeping across Donato, Bianca, and the gathered elites, “I suggest you state it to my face now. Otherwise, you will treat my fiancée with the exact same deference you afford me.”

Silence gripped the circle. Nobody dared to breathe.

Emma looked up at Matteo’s profile—his sharp jaw, his blazing eyes, the absolute fury with which he had just defended her honor before the most powerful people in the city.