The arms dealer began boasting everywhere, bragging that his daughter would soon be the family’s matriarch and holding court at every gala. These businessmen only understood money; they had no grasp of true power dynamics. They made a lot of noise, believing they had already won.
At one private party, the arms dealer had laughed and said, “What are these old families worth? Can they compare to my arms business? My network spans all of Europe. Even the Don has to consider my importance. Lorenzo marrying my daughter is a great honor for them.”
Word of this quickly reached the ears of Lorenzo’s father. I heard he smashed several antique vases in his study. In the end, it was Isabella who restored order, telling the family with a frigid expression, “Forget it. Lorenzo was never my blood. If he wishes to destroy his own future, I cannot stop him.”
I had no time to concern myself with outside gossip. I was busy preparing my trousseau for my marriage to the Don.
I took Maria to Bellacorte, the most exclusive antique jewelry shop in the city. I’d heard they had just acquired a collection of 18th-century treasures. Don Giovanni was a collector of antiques; I thought a piece of historical jewelry would make a fine wedding gift. He would appreciate the gesture.
I was just saying to the clerk, “Please show me that emerald necklace.”
Before the clerk could respond, an arrogant voice cut in from behind me. “Bag up all of these antique necklaces. I’m buying them all.”
I turned. It was Chiara. She was dressed in a fire-red leather jacket, dangling her car keys, and smirking at me. “Well, if it isn’t Alessia. Sorry, but I’ve decided I want these.”
I smiled faintly. The daughter of a nouveau-riche upstart like her likely had no idea what these antiques were worth.
I made a polite gesture. “There’s an unwritten rule in our circle. For jewelry of this caliber, the store only accepts certified bank drafts. If Miss Chiara can produce one, by all means, they are all yours.”
Chiara pulled a check for one hundred thousand euros from her Hermès bag and slapped it on the counter. “Keep the change.”
Several other socialites who had been waiting to view the jewelry burst into hushed laughter.
“My God, does she think one hundred thousand euros can buy out Bellacorte’s entire antique collection?”
“She’d be lucky if that bought the clasp on one of them.”
“I thought the future wife of the heir would have more funds. I suppose this is all she’s worth.”
Chiara’s face fell, her cheeks flushing. She glared at the nervous clerk. “How much for all of them?”
The clerk wiped sweat from his brow. “The total is… one million, three hundred thousand euros.”
She slammed her hand on the counter. “Are you robbing me? You dare ask that much for a few old necklaces? Do you want me to have Lorenzo shut this place down?”
The clerk trembled. “Miss Chiara, please, have mercy. These are priceless antiques, they’re all priced fairly. We would never dare to overcharge.”
I spoke calmly. “Miss Chiara, are you purchasing them or not? If not, please step aside. There are others waiting.”
Chiara’s face turned crimson. She pointed a trembling finger at me. “You! You’re doing this on purpose to humiliate me! Alessia, you couldn’t beat me for a man, so now you’re resorting to these petty tricks!”
I was about to respond when Lorenzo burst through the door. He immediately moved to shield Chiara, his eyes cold as steel as he stared at me. “Alessia, Chiara isn’t like you. She doesn’t understand all the complicated rules of your high society. Humiliating her in public won’t change a thing. I’m still not going to marry you.”
“Chiara is guileless, as innocent as a child. How could she possibly withstand your scheming? Does it make you happy to set her up like this?”
“The more you do this, the more I feel for her. Alessia, is this how a lady from a noble family behaves? Wasting all your energy to attack Chiara?”
“You have truly disappointed me. The way you’re acting now, you aren’t even qualified to be my mistress.”
“I was actually considering it. After Chiara and I were married, I thought I might let you be my mistress, as a way to give you a place. But now, I see there’s no need for that at all.”
Lorenzo’s words plunged the entire jewelry store into a stunned silence. Everyone stared at him, shocked that the family’s heir would say something so deeply humiliating in public.
I could feel the gazes from all around me, a mixture of pity and contempt, but I remained poised, my elegance an unshakable shield.
Just then, a cold, commanding male voice spoke from directly behind me.
“Who was it,” the voice said, each word dripping with ice and authority, “that wants to make my fiancée his mistress?”
At the sound of that voice, every person in the room froze.
