She Entered The Wrong Bedroom At A Billionaire Gala — Then Woke Up Next To Chicago’s Most Feared Mafia Boss With A Ring On Her Finger.

PART 4

I extended my hand.

“Then we have a deal.”

He stared at it before closing his fingers around mine.

His grip was warm and controlled.

“Welcome to the Castelli family, Harper.”

Two hours later, Matteo drove me to my apartment to collect my belongings.

I was still wearing yesterday’s uniform beneath a borrowed coat. My engagement ring, an enormous antique diamond Dominic had removed from a family safe, felt like a chandelier strapped to my hand.

Matteo waited near the stairwell while I unlocked my door.

The moment it opened, I knew something was wrong.

My couch had been cut open. Books covered the floor. My television was shattered, and every cabinet door hung wide.

A man stood beside my kitchen table holding a pistol.

Leo Grayson.

My former boyfriend smiled.

“Congratulations, Harper.”

My body went cold.

Leo had spent two years telling me that I should be grateful he tolerated my weight. He had criticized my clothes, counted the food on my plate, and laughed whenever I talked about applying for better jobs.

Three months earlier, he had left me for a thinner woman.

At least, that was what he had claimed.

“Leo,” I whispered. “What are you doing?”

“Mr. Marino is disappointed.”

The name struck me like a slap.

Leo raised the gun.

“You work for them?”

“I worked for you,” he said. “Silver Spoon Catering had access to the Castelli estate. I needed floor plans, staff schedules, security locations. Dating you was the easiest way to get them.”

Every private moment between us rearranged itself into something ugly.

“You used me.”

“You made it easy.”

His mouth twisted.

“No confident woman would have put up with me. But you were so desperate to be loved that all I had to do was remind you nobody else would want you.”

Tears stung my eyes, but not because I still loved him.

I was grieving the woman I had been with him.

“You’re wrong,” I said.

“About what?”

“I wasn’t desperate to be loved. I was afraid of being alone.”

He aimed at my chest.

“You’re about to be.”

Matteo hit the door before Leo could pull the trigger.

The wood slammed into Leo’s arm. The gun fired into the ceiling. Matteo crossed the room, seized his wrist, and forced him to the floor in one efficient movement.

Leo screamed as the weapon skidded under the couch.

Matteo pressed a knee between his shoulders and called Dominic.

“He is alive,” Matteo said into the phone. “Miss Russo is unharmed.”

Less than fifteen minutes later, black SUVs crowded the street.

Dominic entered my apartment without an overcoat despite the freezing morning. The moment he saw me pressed against the kitchen wall, something in his expression broke.

He crossed the room and pulled me against him.

“Are you hurt?”

“No.”

“Did he touch you?”

“No.”

Dominic held my face between his hands, searching for injuries.

“He was my boyfriend,” I said. “He said the whole relationship was a job.”

Dominic looked toward Leo, who was restrained on the floor.

The warmth disappeared from his eyes.

“Take him downstairs,” he told Matteo.

Leo began to struggle.

“Wait. Dominic, listen to me. I can give you names. Routes. Everything.”

“You will.”

Two guards lifted him.

Dominic’s voice became dangerously quiet.

“But you will never point a weapon at Harper again.”

The guards dragged Leo away.

I stared at the ruined apartment.

“He told me nobody else would ever want me.”