The Mafia Boss Demanded She Lose Weight — Her Savage Reply Made Him Obsessed

The Gold Coast Ballroom at The Drake was a sea of black ties, diamond necklaces, and fake smiles. Chicago’s high society—politicians, judges, real estate tycoons, and crime bosses—mingled beneath massive crystal chandeliers while a string quartet played softly in the background.

When Gabriel Moretti walked in with Dakota Gallagher on his arm, the room went subtly still.

Whispers drifted through the air like smoke.

"Who is she?" "Is that Gabriel’s new girl?" "Look at her... she's huge..." "Why is he with someone like that?"

Dakota heard every word. She held her head higher, her hand resting comfortably in the crook of Gabriel’s arm. She could feel the hard muscle beneath his suit sleeve, radiating heat through the velvet of her dress.

"Ignore them," Gabriel muttered near her ear, his breath warm against her skin.

"I've been ignoring people like them since I was eight years old, Gabriel," Dakota replied coolly. "Look at the corner table near the balcony. The man in the gray suit."

Gabriel’s eyes shifted casually toward the corner. "Julian Moretti. My cousin."

"He’s your mole," Dakota said softly. "He’s been transferring three hundred thousand dollars every month into a trust account in the Cayman Islands under his wife’s maiden name. He’s going to hand over the physical decryption keys for your port security to the Morelli family's broker in about twenty minutes."

Gabriel’s jaw tightened, a vein pulsing at his temple. "Are you certain?"

"I’m an accountant, Gabriel. I don't guess."

Before Gabriel could move, a tall, impossibly thin blonde woman in a silk dress glided over to them, holding two flutes of champagne. It was Victoria Vance—the daughter of Harrison Financial’s chairman.

"Gabriel, darling," Victoria purred, ignoring Dakota entirely. "I didn't think you'd come tonight after the... mess at the office." She finally glanced at Dakota, her eyes sweeping over her curves with obvious disdain. "And who is your... helper? Did you bring your staff to handle the coats?"

Gabriel’s eyes turned to ice. "Victoria—"

"It's fine, Mr. Moretti," Dakota interrupted smoothly, taking a glass of champagne from a passing waiter's tray. She looked Victoria up and down with pity. "Miss Vance, isn't it? I see your father’s legal team hasn't briefed you yet on the asset seizure orders. You might want to hold onto that silk dress—it's likely the last one you'll own before the IRS finishes with your family's estate."

Victoria’s face turned bright red. "You arrogant little pig—"

"Careful, Victoria," Gabriel’s voice rang out like a whip crack, shocking the surrounding crowd into absolute silence. "Speak to her like that again, and I will personally buy your family’s debt and sell your house out from under you by morning."

Victoria gasped, turning on her heel and marching away in humiliation.

Dakota looked at Gabriel, mildly surprised. "You didn't have to do that."

"Yes, I did," Gabriel said, looking down at her with a raw, burning intensity. "No one disrespects what belongs to me."