Chapter 5 - Transformation
The transition from a invisible maid to the lady of the Romano estate occurred with head-spinning speed.
By noon, two high-end stylists and a team of tailors arrived at the estate from Manhattan, bringing racks of silk dresses, tailored coats, and velvet evening gowns. Mrs. Gable stood by, coordinating the sudden upheaval with quiet efficiency, no longer treating Harper like an employee, but addressing her as "Mrs. Romano."
"Mr. Romano has requested that you select an outfit for dinner tonight," Mrs. Gable explained, holding out a stunning emerald-green silk dress. "He is hosting a dinner with his senior captains."
Harper looked at herself in the full-length mirror of the master suite dressing room. The black-and-white maid uniform was gone, replaced by soft linen and delicate gold jewelry. Yet beneath the luxury, she felt like an imposter wearing a costume.
That evening, the grand dining hall was filled with the heavy presence of six senior captains of the Romano crime family. Among them was Felix, the underboss, who looked thoroughly displeased by the sudden development.
When Harper entered the room, leaning lightly on Lorenzo’s arm, the loud conversations died instantly. Every eye in the room locked onto the young woman in the emerald dress.
Lorenzo pulled out the chair to his right, assisting Harper into her seat before taking his place at the head of the table.
"Gentlemen," Lorenzo announced, his voice smooth and authoritative as he raised a glass of red wine. "Allow me to formally introduce my wife, Harper Romano."
A heavy, tense silence gripped the room. One of the older captains, a gruff man named Valetti, set his glass down with a heavy thud.
"With all due respect, Boss," Valetti spat out, glaring at Harper. "She was scrubbing your floors three days ago. Word on the street is she's a nobody from Boston whose family owes money to the O'Connors. Is this a joke?"
Harper’s stomach twisted into a painful knot. She instinctively shrank back into her chair.
Before anyone else could speak, Lorenzo set his glass down on the table. The action was soft, yet the entire room seemed to drop temperature instantly.
Lorenzo turned his head slowly toward Valetti.
"Speak about my wife in that tone again, Valetti," Lorenzo whispered, his voice dangerously soft, "and I will cut your tongue out and feed it to the gulls outside."
Valetti pale skin turned gray. He swallowed hard, lowering his eyes to his plate. "My apologies, Boss. Mrs. Romano."
May you like
Lorenzo reached across the table under the cover of the tablecloth, taking Harper's small, cold hand in his large, warm palm. He squeezed it gently—a silent, reassuring presence that sent a strange wave of comfort rushing through her chest.
For the rest of the dinner, no one questioned her presence again. Harper watched Lorenzo command the room with absolute authority, realizing that beneath his terrifying exterior, he was a man who kept his promises with terrifying precision.
