Chapter 1

Adriana's POV

The nature of my work keeps me apart from ordinary people. I rarely cross paths with anyone outside the circle I was raised in.

Naturally, my mother started to worry. She thought I might not be into men. So she took matters into her own hands and arranged a union for me, a marriage bound between bloodlines.

The man on paper was perfect. He was good-looking, charming, and the heir apparent to the most powerful Don in the city.

Since I spent most of my days behind closed doors and rarely had time for anything as ordinary as shopping, my superior had a wedding gown made for me by hand, every seam stitched with care.

On the day of the wedding, I went to change and walk to the altar, only to find my gown crumpled in the trash.

Before I could even make sense of it, the personal courier of my so-called groom swept into the room and thrust a bridesmaid's dress at me, chin lifted like she owned the floor beneath my feet.

"What are you staring at? The ceremony's about to start. Get dressed," she barked.

I forced myself to stay calm and replied, "I'm the bride. And you expect me to wear this?"

She rolled her eyes as if I were being ridiculous. "Just put it on. No need to make a scene."

Then she touched the pearls at her throat and laughed a half-beat too quickly. "Mr. Falcone said himself. I'll be the one taking your place at the altar."

I stood there, stunned. It took me a moment to react before I pulled out my phone and dialed the groom.

"Mr. Falcone," I said, keeping my voice level. "Don't you think your Family owes me some explanation for this little switch?"

——

This union had been filed and cleared through more levels than she could imagine, sanctioned from a height no Don in this city could reach. If word got out that I'd been swapped at the last moment, the disrespect would echo far past this room.

I was willing to let it go if he owned it and apologized. But all I got was a sneer down the line.

"Explanation? What exactly do you want me to explain?" His tone dripped with contempt.

"Mr. Falcone, I know we've never actually met before today," I said, "but I am meant to be your bride. Letting another woman stand in my place at the altar. Isn't that a little absurd?"

Before I could finish, he hung up.

I froze.

Was this how the sons of powerful men behaved?

The courier chuckled right in my face. "Miss Valente, do yourself a favor and change. You should be grateful. Marrying into the Falcone Family? You must have saved a nation in a past life."

She took one look at my plain gown and modest face and clearly decided I wasn't worth her breath.

"I am the bride. There's no way I'm putting that on," I said. Then I nodded toward one of the men posted by the door and went on. "And if you keep pushing me, I'll have the enforcers walk you out."

I thought that would rattle her. It didn't. She only grew bolder.

"Miss Valente," she sneered, "this is New York. This is Falcone ground. You think a single man here would dare lift a finger for you?"

Her voice climbed, and flecks of spit landed on my face while she ranted.

I clenched my fists, my eyes narrowing.

"Ridiculous," I said coldly. "A jumped-up heir playing at royalty just because his Family holds this city. What a joke."

The words had barely left my mouth when she shot me a look that could bury a man.

"Who the hell do you think you are, throwing a tantrum on Falcone territory?" she shouted. "This is your final warning. Put on that dress, or I swear I'll turn your wedding into a funeral."

I have kept to one place since I came of age. I have no public face, no reputation that walks ahead of me into a room. No one had ever threatened me like this, to my face, without knowing to be afraid.

But she had crossed a line.

My anger boiled over.

I twisted the plain iron ring on my right hand once, slowly.

"I don't believe you," I said firmly.

The whole room fell silent. The associates near the door drew in their breath.

"Madonna, is this girl insane? She just went head-to-head with Miss Bianca. Is she already tired of breathing?"

"It's just a dress, for God's sake. She's going to throw away a marriage into the Falcones over cloth? She'll regret it if she does."

"Right? She's lucky to be marrying into that Family at all. Who cares who stands at the altar?"