I'm the daughter of Don Falcone.

After I got back from studying abroad, my family threw a welcome-home banquet, conveniently setting me up to meet the fiancé my father had handpicked for me—Santino Moretti.

My father praised the guy to the skies in his letters: he was the heir to the Moretti family, elegant, ruthless, drop-dead gorgeous, and holding half the city’s underground operations in the palm of his hand.

I arrived at the Elysium Hotel right on the dot.

Just as I was about to take a seat, a hand shoved me hard.

A woman's shrill voice pierced my ear.

"Livia, what's a Sicilian peasant like you doing here? This is the Imperial Suite. Do you think you even deserve to breathe the air in a place like this?"

I recognized the woman. It was Bella, a bitch who had always had it out for me back in college. She was clearly trying to humiliate me.

Instead of getting mad, I smirked.

"Whether I deserve to be here or not—is that for you to decide?"

Bella sneered, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I'm Mr. Santino's personal assistant. Today, Mr. Santino is hosting the eldest daughter of the Falcone family here. This isn't an occasion for bottom-feeding trash like you."

"Be smart and crawl back to your slum."

I pulled out my phone and dialed my so-called fiancé.

I wanted to ask him if it was a tradition in the Moretti family to let their dogs bark at the front door.

The phone rang for a long time before it was picked up.

"I'm busy. Don't bother me unless it's important," Santino's impatient voice came through the receiver.

I froze for a second, staring at my phone.

Was this the "elegant gentleman" the Don had talked about?

I swallowed my temper.

"Santino, your assistant is acting like a rabid dog, kicking people out at the door. Is this the Moretti family's way of treating guests?"

"Even though we haven't officially met, as your fiancée, I think you'd better come out and explain..."

Beep—beep—

He hung up.

If it weren't out of respect for my father, I would've shoved this phone right down his throat.

What century are we in? Who still does arranged marriages?

But before I came, my father threatened me with the family's honor, forcing me to show up.

I originally planned to cancel the engagement to his face if it wasn't a good match.

I didn't expect this bastard wouldn't even give me the chance to meet him.

Seeing this, Bella laughed hysterically.

"Oh, so you're the legendary 'fiancée' straight out of Sicily?"

"Tsk, tsk, tsk! Talk about delusions of grandeur. Why don't you take a look in the mirror? Are you even worthy of Mr. Santino?"

I was so angry I actually laughed. I pulled out a chair beside me, sat down, and casually picked up a delicate piece of tiramisu.

"Then tell me, how exactly am I not worthy?"

I said, slowly taking a bite of the cake.

Bella acted as if she'd just seen the best joke in the world, clapping her hands in exaggeration.

"Oh my god, she actually sneaked in to freeload. Manager, aren't you going to kick this beggar out?"

The manager, sweating bullets over this diva, shot me an apologetic look.

"Miss, the Imperial Suite is exclusively for Platinum Card members, I'm sorry."

"Is that so? Then I guess this Centurion Black Card isn't worthy either?"

I slapped the black card onto the table. The manager gasped in shock.

Bella's face instantly turned ugly the moment she saw the black card, but then she thought of something and sneered, "Did your sugar daddy give you that card, or did you steal it? Trying to show off your wealth without even being able to prove where the card came from? Kick her out."

Not daring to offend the Moretti family, the manager said timidly:

"Miss, I apologize, but the Imperial Suite is booked for a private event today. It's not open to the public. I'm truly sorry, but I have to ask you to leave."

"Look around you. Who sitting here today isn't a heavy hitter in the underworld? Aren't you ashamed to be sitting here?"

Bella said, deliberately raising her voice.

The argument sparked whispers among the crowd. People gossiped in hushed tones, "Everyone knows Bella is Santino's little mistress. I think that girl is in for some serious trouble this time."

Bella seemed proud of her status as the mistress, giving me a provocative glare.

"Livia, for the sake of us being former classmates, I advise you to get the hell out of here right now."

"Don't stick around just because of some ridiculous engagement. Mr. Santino doesn't give a damn about you."

"Otherwise, when the muscle comes in, they won't be as gentle as I am."

"Here, take this cash as a tip. Go buy yourself a bus ticket back to the sticks."

With that, Bella flicked her wrist, scattering dollar bills all over the floor.

She flipped the plate holding the desserts, sending it crashing right at my feet, splattering my shoes.

She was dismissing me like a stray beggar.

I slowly crouched down.

The men and women around us, clad in tailored suits, all cast disdainful glances my way.

The corners of Bella's mouth curled up; she was reveling in her triumph.

But the very next second, her smile froze.

Under everyone's shocked gazes, I picked up the plate holding the remaining half of the cake and smashed it ruthlessly right into Bella's face.

Smack!

A crisp slap echoed.

The plate shattered to pieces. Cream mixed with porcelain shards plastered her face.

The makeup she had spent two hours perfecting now made her look like a melting clown.

The crowd instantly exploded.

"Jesus! Is this bitch crazy? She actually hit Santino's assistant?"

"Those are the Moretti family's people! She has a death wish!"

"God save her, she's gonna get skinned alive for this."

The crowd pointed fingers, their eyes full of schadenfreude and the pity reserved for a dead woman walking.

Not wanting to stick around and be a spectacle, I turned to leave.

Seeing me walk away, Bella rushed forward and grabbed me.

"Livia! You bitch, you dare hit me?!"

Bella shrieked, her eyes bloodshot, looking ready to tear me limb from limb.

Facing her threat, I didn't even blink.

"Bella, did you eat out of a toilet bowl this morning? Your breath stinks."

"If you really piss me off, forget about you—not even that idiot Santino can save your life."

My voice was ice cold; I had absolutely had it with this stupid woman's insolence.

Bella went completely mad, spitting on the floor.

"Security! Grab her and break her legs!"

Bella called the bodyguards over, surrounding me.

"This is New York! This is Moretti turf! Killing you is easier than crushing a bug!"

"Do it!"

Bella looked at me smugly, clearly treating me like dead meat on a chopping block, entirely at her mercy.

The goons raised their batons.

Just then, an icy voice came from behind.

"Stop."

The voice wasn't loud, but it carried an unquestionable authority.

A group of suited bodyguards parted the crowd, and a tall man wearing a bespoke Italian suit walked in.

It was Santino Moretti.

He really was good-looking; no wonder my father insisted I meet him.

"Bella, what the hell are you doing?"

"You're running tonight's banquet. The Falcone heiress is arriving any minute, and you're running a circus here?"

"If you screw this up, I'll toss you into the Hudson River to feed the fish."

Bella instantly switched faces. Acting as wronged as a frightened kitten, she threw herself into Santino's arms.

"Mr. Santino, it was this country bumpkin who snuck in and started trouble! She even assaulted me!"

"You're Santino?"

I sized the man up.

The rumors were half true—he had a nice shell, but unfortunately, his brain didn't seem to work too well.

The way he looked at me was like looking at a trash bag.

"Hello, I am—"

"Shut up. I don't give a damn about your name."

I had barely opened my mouth when he cut me off coldly.

I raised an eyebrow.

This man had even fewer manners than I imagined.

"Mr. Moretti, I think I need to reintroduce myself. I am Livia, your fiancée..."

He cut me off again, waving his hand as if swatting a fly.

"You're the fiancée my father shoved down my throat?"

"We're not a match. You can get lost now."

Santino's voice lacked any trace of warmth.

Having been interrupted twice in a row, my patience hit rock bottom.

I laughed out of pure frustration.

"We haven't even exchanged a single proper sentence, and you already know we're not a match?"

Santino scoffed, his gaze treating me like a clown.

"Go look in a mirror. Does a broke, pathetic rat like you deserve to step through the Moretti family doors?"

"Whether it's status or class, we are from two totally different worlds."

"My father must have gone senile, actually wanting me to marry a hillbilly."

"The eldest daughter of the Falcone family will be here soon, and I need this VIP suite to host her. Take the money and get the hell out. Don't force me to have my guards throw you out; it'll get ugly."

Santino casually tossed two stacks of cash from the table in front of me, entirely unaware that the woman standing right in front of him was the eldest daughter of the Falcone family.

I suddenly let out a laugh.

Like master, like dog.

Both the master and the servant loved throwing money in people's faces.

I only came to this banquet out of respect for my father.

I didn't expect this bunch of idiots to treat themselves like God.

Seeing that I didn't move, Bella fanned the flames beside him.

"Mr. Santino gave you a handout, aren't you going to get on your knees and say thank you? Think it's too little?"

Santino's face darkened:

"Livia, don't be greedy. Twenty grand is enough for you to build a house back in the sticks."

I nodded:

"It is a lot."

To an ordinary person, it definitely was.

But to me, it was just a number.

A playful smirk curled the corner of my mouth:

"Are you sure you want to kick me out?"

"Don't say I didn't warn you: the second I walk out that door, this engagement is over."

"Be my guest."

Santino reacted as if he had just heard the funniest threat of his life.

"Actually using an engagement as a threat? Look at your pathetic state. How could you ever be worthy of the Moretti family's heir?" Bella chimed in with her mockery.

"Get the hell out! Don't let the Falcone heiress see you and think the Morettis associate with beggars!"

"Fine. I hope you guys don't regret this."

I shrugged and turned to leave.

Old man Moretti had wasted a lot of breath to arrange this marriage alliance. If he saw Santino acting like an idiot, he’d probably be mad enough to put a bullet in him himself.

"Wait!"

Bella suddenly rushed over, blocking my path.

I frowned. "What? Don't want me to leave now?"

Bella smiled sinisterly.

"Of course you have to leave."

"But you hit me just now, and you broke the young master's favorite antique. How are you going to pay for that?"

Santino's face shifted.

He stared at the shards on the floor; it was a decorative vase that Bella had knocked over when she smashed the plate earlier.

"Livia! You broke my antique vase?"

"Do you know what that was? I won that at Sotheby's for ten million dollars! It was a greeting gift for the eldest daughter of the Falcone family!"

Santino was enraged, veins popping out on his neck.

Bella wore a face full of gloating.

I threw my hands up. "Name your price, I'll pay for it."

Santino sneered:

"Pay? We could sell you to the black market for parts and it still wouldn't be enough to cover it!"

"A broke bitch whose entire outfit doesn't even add up to two hundred bucks actually dares to say she'll pay?"

The contempt in his eyes was practically overflowing.

He didn't know that the seemingly ordinary long dress I was wearing was custom-made by Italy's top seamstress—a priceless, off-the-market masterpiece.

"Then tell me, what do you want to do?"

I didn't want to tangle with them anymore; I just wanted to end this quickly.

"For the sake of being former classmates, I'll let you off the hook if you let me slap you ten times, then get on your knees and apologize to Mr. Santino."

Bella said viciously, seemingly already picturing me kneeling and begging for mercy.

Santino didn't say a word, clearly giving his tacit approval.

"In your dreams. As if you're worthy."

I laughed out of sheer anger.

"Refusing to do it the easy way. Get her!"

Bella, already knowing I wouldn't agree, gave the order.

Four bodyguards rushed me all at once. I took one down with a backhand, but I was vastly outnumbered.

Soon, my arms were pinned behind my back, leaving me completely immobilized.

Smack!

Bella stepped forward and slapped me across the face with all her might.

A burning pain flared up.

The metallic taste of blood seeped from the corner of my mouth.

I didn't cry out. I just stared her down, looking at her like she was a dead woman.

"You still dare to glare at me?"

Infuriated by my gaze, Bella raised her sharp high heels and kicked me viciously in the stomach.

"Ugh..."

A wave of intense agony hit me; it felt like my internal organs had ruptured. I hunched over in pain, instantly breaking into a cold sweat.

"Weren't you acting so tough just now? Scream for me!"

Bella grabbed a handful of my hair, forcing my head up. A tearing pain radiated from my scalp.

I gritted my teeth and roared:

"You idiots! I am Livia Falcone!"

"I am the heir to the Falcone family! You're asking for a death wish!"

Bella laughed so hard tears came to her eyes, speaking in an exaggerated tone.

"Oh my god, Boss, listen to this! This crazy bitch says she's the eldest daughter of the Falcones?"

"If you're a Falcone, then I'm the Queen of England!"

"You're really committed to this delusion, huh? I think you need another..."

Right at that moment.

An urgent ringtone suddenly rang out from my pocket.

It was my father's custom ringtone.

Bella was quick; she snatched the phone straight out of my pocket.

A single word flashed on the screen: Papà.

Bella looked at me smugly, pressed the answer button, and casually put it on speaker.

"Principessa..."

My father's slightly anxious voice came through the line.

"Where are you? I'm at the entrance of the Elysium Hotel, why don't I see you?"

Hearing that familiar voice, my grievances instantly erupted:

"Papà! Help me! I'm in the Imperial Suite!"

Bella smugly held onto my phone.

"Your daughter offended the Moretti family! This is what she gets!"

"Listen closely to how your precious daughter gets beaten!"

With that, she raised her hand again, ready to strike.

"Who dares to lay a finger on her!"

"Listen to me, whoever you are."

"If you dare touch another hair on her head, I will flay the skin from your body, inch by inch."

"Tell old man Moretti to prepare his own coffin."

My father's icy voice carried a heavy, murderous intent.