YOU’RE A HOUSEMAID, NOT A WEDDING GUEST. KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT!” THE MAFIA BOSS’S FIANCÉE HUMILIATED ME IN FRONT OF FORTY GUESTS—BUT WHEN LUCA MORETTI NOTICED THE TWO BLUE STITCHES INSIDE HER WEDDING GOWN, HE ASKED, “WHY DOES SHE KNOW SOMETHING ABOUT THIS DRESS THAT I DON’T?”

Chapter 6 – THE CRIMSON WEDDING DRESS

“Mommy!” Leo screamed, breaking away from me and running to the fallen woman.

Marcus stood frozen for a second, staring at the woman he had just shot.

That second was all Luca needed.

Ignoring the bullet graze on his own shoulder, Luca lunged forward, grabbed Marcus’s gun hand, and twisted it violently until the bone snapped. Marcus howled, dropping the weapon. Luca followed with a devastating punch to Marcus’s jaw, dropping him unconscious to the roof.

The threat was over, but the nightmare wasn’t.

I scrambled across the gravel to Vanessa. She was lying on her back, gasping for air. The ivory silk of her $80,000 gown was soaked in blood.

Leo was kneeling beside her, clutching her hand, sobbing uncontrollably.

“It’s okay, baby,” Vanessa wheezed, trying to smile through the pain. “Mommy’s right here.”

Answer One: Vanessa’s ultimate loyalty wasn’t to money or power. It was always to her son.

I pressed my hands hard against the wound on her chest. “Luca, call an ambulance!” I yelled.

Luca was already on his phone, barking orders to his men to secure the building and bring medical help immediately. He knelt beside me, stripping off his suit jacket and pressing it over my hands to add pressure.

“You’re going to be okay, Vanessa,” Luca said, his voice surprisingly gentle. “Hold on.”

Vanessa looked up at him, her eyes glassy. “I’m sorry, Luca,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry I lied. He… he threatened my baby.”

“I know,” Luca said. “I know.”

The reversal of my feelings was complete. The woman who had humiliated me hours ago had just taken a bullet to save the man she was forced to betray. She had redeemed herself with the ultimate sacrifice.

“Sophie,” Vanessa coughed, her grip weakening on Leo’s hand. She looked at me, her eyes pleading. “The dress… you fix things. Can you fix this?”

“I can,” I sobbed, pressing harder. “I’ll fix it. Just stay awake.”

Sirens wailed in the distance, growing louder by the second. Luca’s men burst onto the roof, accompanied by paramedics. They swarmed Vanessa, lifting her onto a stretcher.

As they rolled her away, Leo tried to run after her, but I caught him in my arms, holding him tight.

“She’s going to the hospital, Leo,” I promised him. “She has the best doctors. She’s going to be okay.”

Luca stood up, watching the paramedics disappear down the stairs. Two of his enforcers dragged the unconscious Marcus away. He would face syndicate justice, a fate worse than any prison.

Luca turned to me. He was soaked in rain and blood, his empire secured, his family’s murderer captured.

He walked over and knelt in front of me and Leo.

“You saved my life, Sophie,” Luca said quietly.

“You saved ours,” I replied, my voice shaking.

He reached out and gently brushed a wet strand of hair from my face. His touch was warm against the cold rain.

“Come home,” Luca said. It wasn’t an order from a boss to a maid. It was a request from a man to a woman.

Three days later, the mansion was quiet.

Vanessa was in the ICU, stable and recovering. Marcus was gone, erased from the city’s records. Leo was asleep in the master guest room, finally safe.

I was packing my bags in the staff quarters.

I couldn’t stay. The danger, the violence, the sheer terrifying reality of Luca’s world was too much. I was just a girl who fixed clothes. I didn’t belong in a mafia empire.

There was a soft knock on my door.

Luca stood there, wearing a simple gray sweater, looking exhausted but at peace.

“You’re leaving,” he noted, looking at my duffel bag.

“I have to, Luca,” I said softly. “I don’t belong here.”

He didn’t argue. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, dark blue velvet box.

My heart skipped a beat. A ring?

He handed it to me. “Open it.”

Open Two: What is inside the box, and will it make her stay?

I clicked the box open.

It wasn’t a ring.

It was a First-Class plane ticket to Paris, and a letter of acceptance to the most prestigious fashion design institute in Europe.

TITLE: The Ticket To Paris

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