The Mafia Boss’s Fiancée Called Me a Clumsy Fat Maid and Raised Her Hand at His Mother—Then the Blow I Took Turned Their Alliance Into a Reckoning

Bianca stared at Dominic in utter disbelief. Her chest heaved, her expensive makeup ruined by a sudden burst of panicked sweat.

"Dominic, are you out of your mind?" Bianca gasped, her voice trembling with rising panic. "Tonight is our engagement! The guests are upstairs! The alliance between the Moretti family and the Rossi family depends on this marriage! You can't break an alliance over a senile old woman and a fat, useless maid!"

The moment those words left her mouth, a dark, dangerous shift occurred in the room. Marco and Antonio, standing by the doorway, instinctively shifted their hands toward their shoulder holsters.

Dominic didn't raise his voice. He took two slow, deliberate steps toward Bianca. He was taller than her by nearly a foot, and his overwhelming presence seemed to crush the remaining air out of the conservatory.

"The old woman you just insulted," Dominic said, his tone chillingly soft, "is Carmela Rossi. She survived three turf wars, two assassination attempts, and built this family alongside my father while your father was still running small-time protection rackets on the docks. You speak her name with respect, or you do not leave this house alive."

Bianca took a involuntary step backward, her heels clicking sharply against the blood-stained tile. She looked at Dominic's cold, unblinking eyes and realized, with a sudden wave of sheer terror, that he was not making a threat. He was stating a absolute fact.

"And as for the maid," Dominic continued, glancing down at me for a split second, "she showed more loyalty, courage, and honor in five seconds than you have shown in your entire pampered life. She protected my mother while you attempted to assault an elderly woman in my own house."

"It was a mistake!" Bianca sobbed, reaching out her hands in desperation. "I lost my temper! She spilled wine on my dress—"

"I said," Dominic interrupted, his voice dropping into a lethal register, "remove the ring. Place it on the table. Now."

Bianca’s hands shook so violently she could barely grip the platinum band. Her long, manicured nails scraped against her skin as she frantically pulled at the heavy diamond ring. With a trembling hand, she slid the ring off her left finger and set it down on the iron table with a small, metallic clink.

"Marco," Dominic commanded without looking back.

"Sir?"

"Escort Miss Moretti to her vehicle. Ensure she is off Rossi property within five minutes. If she attempts to speak to any guests in the ballroom, throw her out the front gates."

"Dominic, please!" Bianca shrieked as Marco took her firmly by the upper arm, pulling her toward the exit. "My father will hear about this! This means war! The Moretti family will destroy you!"

"Tell your father," Dominic said coldly, turning his back on her, "that I will be sending him the conservatory video footage along with the broken ring. If he has a problem with how I handle people who assault my mother, he can come discuss it with me in person. Now get out."

Bianca was dragged out of the conservatory, her hysterical screams fading down the long service corridor until the heavy doors swung shut, leaving the room in a heavy, echoing silence.

Dominic immediately turned back to us. He knelt down beside his mother, placing a firm, reassuring hand on her shaking shoulder. "It's okay, Ma. She's gone. You're safe."

Carmela reached up, clutching her son's suit jacket with frail fingers. "Dominic... Skyler... she took the hit for me. Look at her face, Dominic... she's bleeding..."

Dominic shifted his eyes back to me.

I was still sitting on the floor, pressing the blood-soaked silk handkerchief against my cheekbone. The adrenaline that had carried me through the confrontation was beginning to wear off, leaving behind a sharp, sickening throbbing that radiated down my jaw and up into my temple. I felt dizzy, lightheaded from the blood loss and the sudden shock of what had just transpired.

"Antonio," Dominic barked over his shoulder.

"Yes, Boss?"

"Call Dr. Vance. Tell him to get to the main house immediately with a surgical kit. Tell him to bring localized anesthesia and suturing gear."

"Right away, Boss." Antonio turned and quickly hurried out to make the call.

Dominic leaned closer to me. Without asking for permission, he reached out and gently removed my hand from my cheek, tilting my chin upward into the light so he could inspect the wound.

I winced slightly, trying to pull back out of instinct, but his grip on my jaw was firm yet surprisingly gentle. His dark eyebrows furrowed as he looked at the deep, ragged gash on my high cheekbone. Blood was still steadily trickling out, running down my neck and soaking the white linen of my apron.

"It's a deep laceration," Dominic murmured, his thumb brushing against my clean jawline just below the wound. "The edge of her ring tore through the skin. It’s going to require stitches."

"I... I can fix it in the staff quarters, Mr. Rossi," I stammered, my voice raspy. "I have a first-aid kit in my room. I don't want to cause any trouble—"

"Be quiet, Skyler," Dominic interrupted smoothly, though his voice lacked any harshness. "You just saved my mother from a severe injury. You are not going to patch yourself up in a staff pantry with cheap bandages."

He stood up, then surprisingly bent down and extended a long, muscular arm toward me. "Can you stand?"

I hesitated for a moment before placing my hand in his. His grip was warm, solid, and massive compared to mine. He pulled me up effortlessly. As soon as I stood, a wave of intense dizziness washed over me, causing my knees to buckle slightly.

Before I could fall, Dominic’s arm slid around my waist, supporting my weight completely. His chest was broad and rock-hard against my shoulder, smelling faintly of expensive cedarwood, leather, and dark tobacco.

"I've got you," he muttered near my ear.

He turned to his mother, his tone instantly softening. "Ma, I'm going to take Skyler up to the private medical wing. I want you to go to your bedroom with Maria. I'll come check on you as soon as the doctor is finished."

Carmela nodded, wiping her eyes with her sleeve. She looked at me with deep affection, reaching out to touch my arm gently. "Thank you, child. Thank you."

Dominic guided me out of the conservatory, his strong arm never leaving my waist as we walked through the grand hallways. I felt small, bruised, and absurdly out of place walking alongside the head of the Rossi syndicate, my blood-stained apron contrasting sharply with his immaculate black tuxedo.

As we crossed the main grand foyer, we could hear the muffled sounds of music and laughter coming from the ballroom. Hundreds of powerful people were still inside, waiting for an engagement announcement that was never going to happen.

"Mr. Rossi..." I whispered, clutching my throbbing cheek. "The guests... the announcement..."