Chapter 2

Adriana's POV

As the whispers around us grew louder, the courier's smug expression only deepened. She touched the pearls at her throat, and her laugh came a half-beat too quickly.

“You hear that?” she sneered. “A nobody like you, no bloodline, no name worth speaking, thinking you can stand at the altar? Keep dreaming, sweetheart.”

Yet, their mockery didn’t faze me one bit. If anything, I found it kind of funny.

“Bianca Rizzo, right?” I said calmly. “Let me repeat myself one last time. Give me back my wedding dress.”

But instead of hearing me out, she simply sneered, “Bring back your wedding dress, my ass!”

She even cursed at me a few more times, then apparently decided that wasn’t enough. She rolled up her sleeves and stormed toward me.

“What now?” I shot back. “The Falcones' lapdog can’t argue with words, so you go straight to violence?”

Without any more words, she swung at my face several times, but never even touched the hem of my dress. That only made her more furious.

“You little bitch! Just stand there again and see what happens!” she barked. “You want me to call Lorenzo right now?!”

Despite her threat, I still didn’t react or retaliate. I just stood there in silence.

It wasn’t because I was scared.

It was because before I left, the Consigliere who ran my orders had pulled me aside and reminded me, “Every word you say and every move you make reflects on the Commission. So stay calm, no matter what happens.”

Also, I don’t fight. But if I ever do strike back, I’m not aiming for warnings. I aim to end it.

Yet, Bianca seemed to think my silence meant I’d backed down. So she balled her fist and lunged again.

But just then, a deep voice thundered from the entrance.

“Enough!”

A tall man with broad shoulders and a commanding presence strode in, a wall of enforcers flanking him. Conversations died the instant he crossed the threshold.

“Bianca!” he snapped. “You’re my personal courier. What are you doing throwing punches in public, at my own wedding?”

So this was him. Lorenzo Falcone, the groom. The heir apparent of the Falcone Family.

I gave him a quick once-over. My mother hadn’t lied. He looked like a man pulled straight from a magazine, close to six foot three, dressed in a perfectly tailored suit, handsome, and refined.

If I had to point out a flaw, it’d be the way he looked at me. Cold, detached, like I wasn’t even human.

“Signor Falcone,” I said, stepping forward with a calm smile. “Since we’re finally meeting, allow me to introduce myself. I’m Adriana Valente from—”

“That won’t be necessary,” he interrupted, waving a hand impatiently. “I’m not the least bit interested in who you are.”

For a second, I thought I’d misheard him.

I was supposed to be his bride, the Falcones' future daughter-in-law, the woman meant to seal a bond between bloodlines.

And here he was, publicly humiliating me before the wedding even started, before every made man in the room.

“Signor Falcone,” I said, keeping my composure, “I understand this union came from our fathers, and we’ve never met before. But at the very least, you could let me finish a sentence. Isn’t that basic courtesy?”

His expression immediately darkened at what I’d said. One finger went to the knot of his tie, loosening it a fraction.

“Courtesy?” he scoffed. “Adriana, do me a favor. Go find a mirror, take a good look at yourself, and ask if someone like you deserves me.”

He then shot me a contemptuous glance and let out a short, bitter laugh.

“Let me make one thing crystal clear,” he continued. “If my father hadn’t forced this alliance on me, I wouldn’t have spared you a second look. You bring absolutely nothing to the table.”

Then he turned to the room, his voice rising, and not one man there dared meet his eyes.

“And don’t get any ideas. Just because there’s a wedding today doesn’t mean you’re gonna carry the Falcone name. I’m never going to touch you. Not in this lifetime.”

Instead of drowning in embarrassment or loneliness, I simply let out a small laugh and shrugged.

“Well, since you’ve made your stance so clear, I won’t try to push this any further,” I said casually.

Then my tone dropped, cooler and sharper. “But that said…”