Caroline reacted instantly, shrieking, "It has to be a fake!"

She placed a hand on Julian's chest, looking at him with deep concern. "Julian, you can't let her trick you. You know how dangerous the Castello family is. If they find out someone is using a fake crest here, you'll be dragged down with her."

She turned to me, her voice dripping with fake pity.

"Alessia, drop the act. You're going to get yourself killed playing these games."

Julian looked at me, his eyes shifting from conflicted to absolute resolve.

He glanced around at the industry elites waiting for a show, cleared his throat, and raised his voice, loud and cold.

"Ladies and gentlemen, my apologies for the disturbance."

He looked down at me bleeding on the floor, staring at me like I was nothing but a stranger.

"I have absolutely no relationship with this woman. She is merely an assistant I fired half a month ago for gross incompetence. She's been stalking me ever since."

I stared at him.

Five years.

The man who slept beside me for five years had become a complete monster.

He crouched down, close enough that I could smell the familiar cedarwood cologne on his suit—the one I had given him for his birthday.

He kept his voice so low that only I could hear.

"Alessia, I'm just playing along for the crowd. Who told you to take it this far tonight?"

"Go back to the office. I promise, you'll be my wife in the end. We just need to wait a little longer. Stop throwing these childish tantrums for my attention, good girl."

Wait a little longer?

What, until Noah turns eighteen?

I looked at him. The blood was running into my eye, stinging sharply.

I smiled. "Julian."

"Yeah?" He leaned in closer.

"You're going to regret this."

"You're going to regret what you did to me today."

Julian's face went ice-cold.

He stood up straight, adjusted his cufflinks, and waved at the guards.

"Drag her out. Don't let her embarrass me here anymore."

A guard yanked my wrists behind my back.

Another practically grabbed me by the hair, dragging me toward the exit.

My knees scraped against the marble, ripping a long slit up my dress.

The crowd parted like the Red Sea to let us through.

I heard the clinking of champagne glasses, the whispered sneers, and Caroline's intentionally loud voice: "Ugh, her blood is getting on the carpet. So gross."

I was dragged all the way to the entrance.

The guard let go, ready to physically toss me out into the street.

Right at that moment, the double doors burst open.

BANG!

Every single pair of eyes in the room snapped toward the entrance.

It was Victor Castello. My father. The Don who made the entire North American underworld hold its breath.