In the Gallo family’s private jewelry workshop. The wedding ring I’d waited six months for was on another woman’s finger. Gia’s hand.

An international supermodel my fiancé, the Don of the Gallo family, was having an affair with.

The workshop director stood by, a cold sweat soaking his back as he looked at Maximo on the sofa.

Maximo stood up. He took Gia’s hand, lifting it to the light to admire the ring, his tone leaving no room for argument. “She’s walking in a major show in Paris next week. She needs this to make an impression on the haute couture scene. The family vault is full of jewels. Pick something else. Don't be dramatic.”

Under the harsh lights, Gia admired herself in the mirror, her smile haughty and triumphant.

I looked at my own reflection. Cashmere sweater and jeans. I didn’t belong here.

This wedding, a year in the making, suddenly felt like a joke.

I'm not upset. I just canceled the custom wedding dress along the way.

“Maximo. The other jewels are perfectly fine.So I’m not getting married.”

The air froze.

Maximo turned slowly, his eyes narrowing slightly behind his gold-rimmed glasses, examining her with cold indifference.

"What did you just say?"His voice carried an oppressive weight.

The crystal chandelier overhead was blinding. I looked at the face that had once captivated me, and my stomach turned.

“I said, the wedding is off.” My voice was flat. Not a single tremor.

“Pfft—”

Gia giggled, a sound like poison poured into honey.

“Oriana, don't be so petty.”

she purred, pressing against Maximo, deliberately twisting the massive diamond ring on her finger.

“Maximo only feels sorry that I had no impressive jewelry to show off at the pre-show dinner.”

“This ring can realize its greatest commercial value when worn on my hand.”

“ You’re usually so sensible, so why are you being so unreasonable at such a critical moment?”

She called him "Maximo." So naturally.

I’d never heard a woman use a word like that. Not once in five years.

"Take off the ring," I told her, my voice cold.

Gia feigned terror, tugged atMaximo's hem. "Maximo, I'm scared..."

Maximo pulled her behind him, his brow furrowed. "That's enough, Oriana!" He waved a dismissive hand. "You're being ridiculous."

He walked toward me, every step a threat.

"Gia is walking in a major show in Paris. Those connections are vital to the family's future."

“I gave her the ring for the sake of our future home.”

He stopped right in front of me, looking down at me. "And you? An art gallery owner. Who are you trying to impress with a piece like this? Your broke artist friends?"

Every word was a knife in my heart.

Five years.

Five years of hiding my true identity, paving his way from the shadows. And it meant nothing to him.

"Maximo, This is the wedding ring I’ve been waiting for six months."

“You just give it away like that? Did you even ask for my opinion?”

I hold my breath and clench my fists tightly.

Maximo let out a cold laugh.

"Your opinion?"

He closed in on me, his breath enveloping me. "This five-million-dollar ring? I paid for it."

“That lakeside apartment you live in, the Maserati you drive，even the rent for your pathetic little gallery?Everything you have is from me,."

“You’re talking to me about your opinion now?”

He stretched out his finger and poked my shoulder hard.

"Oriana,so you better learn some goddamn gratitude and stop telling me what to do."

I stared at the conceited man in front of me, and suddenly he felt so unfamiliar.

This was the man I had loved for five years?

He didn't see anything wrong with giving my wedding ring to his mistress.

In his eyes, I was just another pretty object he owned.

I was done talking. I turned to walk out.

"Oriana, don't push your luck!"

Maximo grabbed my wrist. So tight I almost cried out.

"Now, you're going to go to the vault, pick another piece of jewelry, and the wedding ceremony will proceed as planned." His voice was a low, dangerous whisper in my ear.

"As long as you behave yourself, I'll buy you out every jewelry store on Rodeo Drive to make it up to you. But if you dare walk out that door..." He paused, his voice turning colder.

"I promise you, no one in this city will sell you a goddamn thing. You'll find out that without me, you don't even have a roof over your head."

Gritting my teeth against the sharp pain in my wrist, I lifted my head and stared straight into his eyes.

Five years of devotion, for this?

"Maximo,you make me sick."

I ripped my arm from his grasp.

I walked to the door without looking back.

"Oriana, I'm warning you! Don't push me!"

I didn't stop. I squared my shoulders, pushed open the workshop door, and walked out. Behind me, I heard Maximo's arrogant, cold laughter.

I pushed the door open, and a blast of icy wind hit me.

Before I could take a second step, two of Maximo's bodyguards were on me, grabbing me by each arm.

"Boss says you need to cool your head."

They ripped my coat and handbag from me. They emptied everything onto the ground—my wallet, car keys, apartment keycard.

They picked up my things and went back inside.

Then came the shove. Hard. I was trash they were throwing out. I tumbled down the concrete steps, landing hard on the icy sidewalk.

The heavy workshop door slammed shut in my face.

I was stranded on the streets of Chicago in a raging blizzard.

All I had on was a thin cashmere sweater, jeans, and... the burner phone hidden in my pocket.

Maximo stood behind the bulletproof glass, looking down at me with that sickening smirk. He mouthed the words: “Without me, you have nothing.”

Gia leaned on his shoulder, giving me a little wave. Her face was a mask of fake pity.

"Oh, Oriana, you should just give up," she cooed, her voice dripping with venom. "The forecast calls for a blizzard, you know. You'll freeze out there, sweetie."

Maximo pulled out his phone and dialed a number, his eyes locked on mine.

"It's me, Maximo." He watched me, every word a death sentence. "Freeze all of Oriana Rosetti's bank accounts. Immediately."

"What?" I stared at him in disbelief.

"And cancel her memberships at every club."

"Maximo, you're insane!"

He continued into the phone, "And put the word out to every driver and hotel in my territory. Anyone who helps Oriana Rosetti is an enemy of the Gallo family."

He hung up and walked to the glass, tapping it with his knuckles.

"Hear that, baby? Your pride isn't worth a damn thing. Without me, you can't even find a place to stay warm."

Gia cackled, her laugh shrill and piercing. "Oh, Maximo, you're so powerful. Look at her, so pathetic."

Maximo checked his watch. "I'll give you two hours, Oriana. Get on your knees, admit you were wrong, and beg me to forgive you. Otherwise, you can freeze to death out there tonight."

The sky darkened fast. Clouds rolled in. The first snowflake fell.

Soon, it was a whiteout. A blizzard was tearing through Chicago.

I huddled by the jeweler's door, my sweater soaked through, clinging to my skin.

My phone buzzed nonstop. Text after text.

【Citibank: Your account has been frozen.】

【JPMorgan Chase: Your credit card has been declined.】

【Uber: Your ride request has been canceled.】

【Four Seasons: Your membership has been revoked.】

A dozen notifications. Each one a slap in the face.

With trembling fingers, I dialed Sophia. My only best friend. We'd known each other since high school.

"Sophia, I need your help..."

A sob came from the other end. "Oriana, I can't."

"What? Why?"

"Maximo's men just paid my father a visit." Sophia's voice was shaking. "They said if I help you, they'll burn our family restaurant to the ground tomorrow."

"I'm locked in my house. I can't go anywhere. I'm sorry, Oriana, I really can't..."

Click. She hung up. My last lifeline was gone.

I looked through the glass. Maximo was sipping whiskey. Gia was kneeling at his feet, her hand sliding suggestively up his thigh. She kept glancing up at me, her eyes full of triumph and mockery.

My heart went dead.

This was the man I loved for five years. The man I’d hidden my identity for, the man I’d propped up from the shadows.

I finally understood a hard truth: you don't give loyalty to a stray dog.

The snow fell harder. The temperature plummeted. My lips were turning blue, my teeth chattering uncontrollably.

I couldn't wait any longer. I'd walk. I would rather freeze to death on the streets of Chicago than bend the knee to that animal.

I turned to step into the blizzard.

Screech—

A black Cadillac Escalade slammed on its brakes in front of me.

The door opened. Maximo's second-in-command, Tommy, stepped out holding an umbrella. He was a toad of a man who usually couldn't bow low enough in my presence. Now, his eyes held nothing but contempt.

"Well, look who it is," he sneered. "The high and mighty Miss Oriana."

He pulled a black garment bag from the car. "The boss sent you something."

He looked at my drenched form with disgust and threw the bag at my feet.

I bent down and picked up the wet garment bag. I unzipped it. Inside was a red dress.

It wasn't a dress. It was a cheap maid's costume. The kind you find in a sex shop. The neckline plunged to her navel and the skirt was a postage stamp. The polyester felt like sandpaper against my frozen skin.

Tommy grinned, his voice oozing superiority. "Boss says this is your last chance. Put this on, go to Gia’s send-off party for Paris Fashion Week tonight, and serve drinks. You do a good job, maybe your bank accounts get unfrozen tomorrow. He'll even save you a seat at the wedding, so you can watch from the audience."

He paused, a vicious glint in his eye. "It's a huge honor, Miss Oriana. Other girls would kill for this opportunity."

The blizzard whipped at my face, stinging like a thousand tiny knives. My body was shaking from the cold, but my back was ramrod straight.

My voice was a blade against the wind, sharp and clear. "You tell Maximo to go to hell."

Tommy's face darkened. "You ungrateful bitch!"

He waved his hand. Two massive bodyguards jumped out of the car. "You want to do this the hard way? Fine."

They grabbed my arms, twisting them behind my back.

"Let me go!"

I struggled, but after two hours in the snow, I was too weak.

Tommy shoved the muddy maid outfit into my arms. "Maximo's orders. You're wearing this one way or another."

He shoved me violently toward the car. "Get in!"

I was forced into the back seat. The door slammed shut like the lid of a coffin.

The Escalade sped through the blizzard. The driver had the AC blasting, turning the car into an icebox. I was soaked to the bone, my teeth chattering so hard my jaw ached. My lips were purple.

Tommy sat in the passenger seat, glancing back at me, his face smug. "Why make it so hard, Miss Oriana? A woman just has to be a little obedient in bed, and she can have anything. You go against the boss, and you're the only one who suffers."

I closed my eyes, refusing to engage with this scum.

One thought echoed in my mind: Maximo, you will pay for tonight.

Half an hour later, the car stopped behind a luxury casino hotel. The door was ripped open.

"Get out!"

I was shoved out of the car, nearly falling. Through the glass of the back entrance, I could see the glittering party inside.

In the main hall, Maximo was with Gia, laughing with the city's elite. Gia was wearing a priceless Chanel gown, and my "Heart of Sicily" ring sparkled on her hand under the lights. She clung to Maximo's arm, blooming like a flower. Maximo was in a custom Armani suit, handsome and charming.

They looked so perfect together. So happy. Like I never existed.

Maximo saw me being dragged in. He excused himself and strode toward me. He looked at the muddy maid outfit in my hands and frowned.

"Why do you look like such a mess?" He took off his own cashmere coat, trying to drape it over my shoulders, his voice full of that same fake concern. "Oriana, you're just too stubborn. If you'd just listen, I'd never let you suffer like this."

Nausea rose in my throat. I turned away from his touch. "Don't touch me."

Maximo's face went dark. He glanced around to make sure no one was watching, then cornered me.

"That's enough, Oriana." He grabbed my chin, squeezing so hard I could barely breathe. "Go change. Now. Be Gia's waitress. This is your last chance."

I struggled, but his grip was a vise. "I won't serve anyone. Especially not his whore."

A dangerous light flashed in Maximo's eyes. He reached into his suit jacket and pulled something out.

My heart stopped.

It was a gold cross necklace. Engraved with my family's crest. The only thing my mother ever gave me.

"Recognize this?" He dangled it in front of my face, like bait for a caged animal. "Your mother gave it to you. Right before she died. You never took it off. Not until I told you it was tacky."

He smirked, his fingers tracing the cross.

"Maximo! Give it back!" I lunged for it.

He held it high, his eyes cold.

"Be the waitress, and you get it back. Otherwise, I melt it down. Right now."