Chapter 8
Fabiano’s gaze swept over me in my silk nightgown, then over to Massimo’s bare chest, his eyes burning with raw fury and something that looked dangerously close to heartbreak.]]
“Get the hell out of here.“[]
Massimo’s smile turned predatory, his voice dripping with mock politeness:
“Sorry, brother–in–law, but this is my fiancee’s house. I’m not going anywhere. If anyone needs to fuck off, it’s you.“[]
“From that look on your face, I’m guessing you finally figured out your little girlfriend was lying through her teeth. What happened to all that noble repaying my debt bullshit? This isn’t some fucking fairy tale where you sacrifice yourself for the damsel in distress.”
Fabiano tried to lunge at him, but my security grabbed his arms before he could take a swing.
“What happens between Arianna and me is none of your goddamn business!”
I was bone–tired and wanted this nightmare to end. When I looked at Fabiano, my voice was ice cold exhaustion:[]
“What exactly are you here for? You want to apologize? Beg for forgiveness? Whatever pathetic speech you’ve prepared, save it. You know me better than anyone–those three seconds I gave you were your last shot.“]
“Treacherous dogs get put down.“]
I stood up and walked toward my bedroom without another word.]]
Massimo, being the cocky bastard he was, got up and followed me, throwing salt in Fabiano’s wounds!
“Bedtime.“]
“Time to keep my woman warm.”
I could practically hear Fabiano’s brain exploding from rage and despair.]
SLAM.]
I slammed my bedroom door so hard the entire hallway shook.]
Massimo rubbed his nose where the door had nearly caught him, but he wasn’t even fazed. He just chuckled and headed to his own room, whistling like he’d won the lottery.
The next morning, Massimo was gone before sunrise.
“The groom said it’s bad luck for the bride and groom to see each other three days before the wedding, so he left at dawn.“[]
I raised an eyebrow at the maid.]
“The groom? That’s what Massimo told you to call him?-Пl
The maid nodded, looking slightly terrified:[]
“Yes, Miss.““]
“Mr. Rossi said everyone in the house has to address him that way from now on.”
“D
I smirked and didn’t bother correcting her. It was just a power play, and we’d be married soon enough anyway.[]
The next three days passed in a blur of final preparations. Endless dress fittings and wedding arrangements. I couldn’t believe Massimo had managed to commission something so elaborate–the gown looked like it belonged in a Renaissance palace.]]
The dress was pure medieval royalty–deep crimson silk with intricate gold embroidery depicting hunting scenes and family crests. The bodice was studded with rubies and pearls, and the train was so heavy it required two attendants. The matching crown was forged from white gold with massive emeralds, like something a Medici princess would wear.
“I know you appreciate true craftsmanship. I had the best artisans in Florence working on this for three years. The rubies are from Burma, and the gold thread is actually melted down Byzantine coins. Do you like it?“]]
Looking at everything, I could tell the level of obsession that had gone into it. This wasn’t just wealth–this was historical artifacts turned into wedding attire.]
“You were that confident I’d say yes?“]
Unusual silence from Massimo’s end.
“Honestly? No.”
“If you marry me, this is your royal trousseau. If you don’t… His voice cracked slightly. “Consider it my wedding gift to whatever poor bastard gets you instead.“]
“Arianna, do you believe I actually love you?”
I answered with brutal honesty:
“I have no idea.“]
That was the truth. Five years of increasingly elaborate gifts, each one more expensive than the last. The Moretti family owned half of Italy–material gestures, no matter how thoughtful, felt like..
Performance.
I didn’t need his money. I wanted something that couldn’t be bought. Something that would prove he’d burn his whole empire down for me.
Fabiano stayed away–probably finally accepting that he’d destroyed everything. I heard he’d shipped Valentina off to some convent and called off their sham engagement
On the wedding day, dressed in my crimson and gold medieval gown like a Byzantine empress, Fabiano appeared at my door. He slowly approached and dropped to one knee in front of me.]
“Tradition says the bride’s brother should escort her to the altar.”
“Arianna, let me carry you to your wedding.”
