My former fiancé, Marco Vescovi, was supposedly killed in a shootout two years ago.

As his arranged fiancée, I remained exceptionally calm.

Two years later, in a top-tier private casino in Chicago, I stumbled upon him. Marco was wound around some young woman, their mouths locked in a deep, bruising kiss.

His men hurried over to explain.

"Alessia, Marco was kidnapped by a rival faction. He was severely injured and only recently rescued, but he has amnesia. We didn't inform you because we were afraid you'd worry."

Marco shoved the girl away, his brow furrowed as his eyes locked onto mine.

"So, you're the fiancée I forgot? I have no memory of you. But out of respect for the Gallo family, I'll honor our agreement."

A bitter laugh escaped my lips. "They're lying to you. We've never met."

What Marco didn't know was that on the day his "death" was announced, I received an anonymous package containing a security tape.

In the video, he was in his private hangar, telling his confidant, "The thought of spending my life with Alessia is driving me insane. I'm faking my death to get out of this marriage. You keep the Gallo family quiet—don't let them stir up any trouble."

But what he couldn't possibly know was that in the two years he'd been "dead," I had already moved on.

————————

1

The VIP lounge fell silent for a moment before Marco's men erupted in a chorus of excuses, all talking over each other and gesturing at me.

"Alessia, how can you act like you don't know him? We were the ones who kept it a secret; it has nothing to do with Marco."

"Exactly. We were trying to spare you the pain. Now that he's finally back, you can't just give him the cold shoulder."

The air grew thick with unspoken pressure.

Before I could form a response, a derisive snort from Marco Vescovi shattered the feigned harmony.

He rose from the sofa, lazily swirling the ruby-red wine in his glass. "Good," he declared with utter disdain. "Saves me the headache."

The girl beside him, Caterina, immediately clung to his arm, gazing up at him with a mixture of feigned shyness and raw ambition.

"Marco… I remember you. She's the one being cruel. I… I'd do anything to be your bride…"

Marco said nothing, only casting a contemptuous glance in my direction before yanking Caterina into his arms for a deep, invasive kiss.

His men quickly shuffled to stand in front of me, blocking the crude display.

They continued their hollow attempts at placation.

"Alessia, Marco has amnesia. You know, he always said you were the only one for him."

"Come on, Alessia. You should be by his side, helping him remember. Don't be so stubborn."

My patience was wearing thin when a sharp pang shot through my heart. A wave of palpitations washed over me, my vision blurring at the edges.

The color drained from my face. Without another word, I spun on my heel and stalked out of the room.

I moved so quickly they didn't have time to react.

It was only after I had vanished from sight that they all let out a collective sigh of relief and turned to Marco.

"Marco, you took it too far. She looked like she'd seen a ghost. You'd better watch it, or you'll burn this bridge with the Gallo family for good."

Marco just scoffed dismissively and sank back into the plush sofa.

"Alessia plays the ice queen, but underneath, she's desperate for me. Two years apart? I bet she's been aching for it. Besides, I'm playing the amnesiac. When I get tired of this game, I'll just say my memory's back, and it was all unintentional. I won't even have to apologize. I'll just crook my finger, and she'll come running."

The moment I stepped out of the VIP lounge, my composure crumbled. I leaned against the cold wall, gasping for breath. My heart hammered against my ribs, the pain so intense it rooted me to the spot.

Just then, a shadow fell over me.

"What? Heartbroken enough to give him another chance?"

I looked up to see Nico De Luca, his arms crossed, leaning casually against the doorframe. His gaze was coolly indifferent as it swept over me.

He was dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit. In the dim light, his features were sharp, as if carved from granite, his eyes deep, unreadable pools. Even in shadow, his thin lips held a faint, knowing curve.

Stung at being read so easily, my eyes welled with tears.

A flicker of almost imperceptible panic crossed Nico's eyes, and he strode toward me. "Don't cry. I swear, I won't mention it again."

His arms were surprisingly strong as he swept me up bridal style, leaving no room for argument. The clean scent of tobacco and leather from his suit was unexpectedly grounding, and I instinctively wound my arms around his neck.

"My heart hurts…" I whispered.

Nico paused for a fraction of a second. "Did it just start?"

I nodded, my lips brushing against his firm jaw as I buried my face in his broad shoulder.

He placed me gently in the back seat of his armored car, turning on the air conditioning. "Stay here," he said, his voice low and firm. "I'm going to make them pay."

With that, he shut the car door, his tall figure turning decisively and disappearing back into the bustling casino.

Less than five minutes later, the sharp shatter of glass and a chorus of screams echoed from deep within the casino.

Nico returned. The Vescovi Soldato who had spoken so rudely to me was now crumpled on the ground, clutching his head as blood seeped through his fingers. Nico casually tossed aside the jagged neck of a broken bottle, and the entire casino floor fell into a dead silence.

Marco came storming out after him, his eyes landing on me sitting calmly in Nico's car in the parking lot.

He strode toward Nico. "What the hell do you think you're doing, meddling in my business?" he yelled. "I had a meeting with you tonight, and you blew me off for some woman?"

"And you've got her stashed in your car? Let me see what bombshell has our De Luca family Underboss so captivated!"

Marco shouted, reaching for the car door.

I instinctively shrank back into the shadows.

But Marco's hand never made it to the handle.

Nico simply shot him an ice-cold glance, and Marco wisely retracted his hand. "Fine, fine, so protective. You'll have to introduce her to the guys sometime!"

"By the way, Nico, you won't believe it—I ran into Alessia. She walked into the wrong room, saw me with another woman. Scared the shit out of me, but my guys were brilliant—told her I was kidnapped and have amnesia. I'm gonna ride this amnesia thing out for a bit, then 'miraculously' get my memory back."

"Nico, you're a genius. I'm not done having my fun yet. That fake death you arranged for me was the perfect way to get rid of her!"

Nico ignored him completely, getting into the driver's seat, locking the doors, and speeding away, leaving Marco standing in a cloud of exhaust fumes.

He took me back to his heavily guarded penthouse apartment.

The moment the door closed behind us, he pulled me into his arms.

After we emerged from the steam-filled bathroom, he laid me down on the cool silk sheets, his phone landing with a soft thud on the nightstand.

Only after I had finished a hot, sweet drink did he strip off his damp shirt and slide in beside me, his scorching palm roaming over my lower abdomen, igniting a trail of fire.

The light from the crystal chandelier above was cool, glinting off the hard planes of his abs, defining the taut lines of muscle that practically begged to be touched.

And I touched them.

Nico's eyes darkened instantly, and he seized my wrist.

"Don't move," he commanded, his voice a low growl.

But I had no intention of obeying.

He gripped the back of my neck, pulling me closer.

After two years, he knew my body as well as his own.

As our passion crested, he took my hand, guiding it downward.

His voice was hoarse, laced with a raw plea. "Help me…"

I was intimately familiar with Nico's stamina; I had, after all, tested its limits on countless nights.

When he finally found his release, my wrist ached with a pleasant numbness.

He was about to carry me back to the bathroom when the phone on the nightstand suddenly blared to life.

It was Nico's phone.

My hand brushed against the screen, and before I could pull back, the call was answered.

"Nico, I'm planning to throw an engagement party with Caterina. Really rub it in Alessia's face, you know? Crush any hope she might have left. What do you think?"

"And don't you think something's off with Alessia? She sees me alive and well and doesn't even bother to check in. She's too busy sulking; hasn't contacted me at all."

"It's been two years. Looks like she's gotten bold. I need to provoke her, make her feel the sting of almost losing me all over again. I'll handle the details; you'll be in charge of…"

Marco's voice droned on through the phone.

Then, he stopped mid-sentence.

I couldn't help but let out a soft gasp.

It wasn't Marco's voice that made me gasp, but the feeling of something hot and hard stirring against my palm, pulsing with a demanding rhythm.

Marco, on the other end of the line, also fell silent at the sound. "Nico," he asked, his voice sharp with suspicion, "is someone there with you?"

I shot Nico a glare that was equal parts annoyance and embarrassment.

Marco's surprised voice crackled through the phone. "Well, well, Nico! What's all that noise? You got a woman over there? Come on, spill. Is it the one from the parking lot?"

Of course he wouldn't recognize my voice from a single gasp. Not after two years and, I was sure, a parade of other women.

Nico seemed entirely unbothered by Marco's prying.

His gaze was locked on me, both tender and scorching.

I glared at him resentfully, squirming out of his embrace and trying to crawl to the far side of the massive bed.

However, I didn't get far before Nico's hand clamped around my ankle, and he dragged me back.

Marco was still rambling.

"Buddy, you have to let me get a look at the girl who finally captured the heart of our stone-cold Underboss! And hey, since you have company now, you can't keep turning down the girls I've been setting you up with, right?"

"Speaking of the engagement party, I was going to ask you to invite Alessia, but I know how much you can't stand her…" Marco didn't get to finish.

Nico’s patience snapped. He ended the call.

He tossed the phone onto the bed and, with one arm, scooped me up and carried me back into the bathroom.

Three hours later, we finally emerged.

Nico looked utterly satisfied. I shot him a fierce glare, flopped onto my back on the bed, and pointedly ignored him.

I glanced at my phone and saw a new message.

It was from one of Marco's men—one of the confidants he had insisted I meet two years ago.

[Alessia, Marco is getting engaged to Caterina in a week. For the honor of the Gallo family, you have to come talk some sense into him! I don't want him to regret this when he gets his memory back. This isn't what he truly wants!] I read the message, deleted it without a second thought, and tossed my phone aside. I wasn't the type to go looking for drama.

What did Marco's engagement have to do with me?

Nico tried to sidle over and wrap his arms around me, but one sharp look was enough to make him retreat obediently. I was in no mood for another "marathon."

The news that Marco Vescovi was alive and about to be engaged spread like wildfire through Chicago's underworld.

The reactions across the Chicago Outfit were varied.

Some pitied me, some cursed Marco's name, and others were just eager to watch the Vescovi family drama unfold.

My college friend, Isabella, called me, launching immediately into a tirade.

"When I heard Marco was alive, I was so happy for you! But then I heard he was proposing to someone else, and my good mood just vanished!"

"This is insane! He gets amnesia, so he can just abandon you? You're his fiancée! This alliance is between two major families! What the hell is he thinking?"

"No, I refuse to stand by and watch my best friend get screwed over like this! I'm going to find out where he's holding this party, and we're going to go crash it. We'll get you some justice!"

I couldn't help but laugh. "Alliances can be broken. Engagements can be called off. He and I were finished two years ago. His life now? It has nothing to do with me."

Isabella was still fuming. "I just can't stand it… you waited for him for two whole years! You've been completely alone all this time!"

I nearly choked on my water. Waited for him for two years? Please. The only reason no one knew about Nico and me was because we hadn't gone public.

Isabella kept trying to persuade me to go confront Marco with her, but I firmly refused.

She sighed heavily and finally gave up.

"Alright, fine. Then how about we meet up tonight? Someone needs a valuable piece from their collection appraised urgently, and they specifically requested you."

I had no other plans, so I agreed.

Isabella chose the location.

She was already waiting when I arrived.

As I took in the grand estate before me, I froze.

"I thought we were going to a gallery. Why are we at the Vescovi family estate?"

Isabella's eyes darted around nervously as she tugged me forward.

"The client is inside. A very important person. Let's hurry; we can't keep them waiting!"