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!"