Chapter 6
Raffaele stopped inches away from Victoria. His towering, masculine frame blocked out the bright sun, casting her in a cold, heavy shadow. The sharp, artistic tattoos on his hands flexed slightly as he reached out toward her.
Victoria flinched, turning her head away and squeezing her eyes shut, expecting a strike.
Instead, Raffaele’s hand gently grasped her left wrist.
He lifted her trembling hand into the space between them. With slow, agonizing precision, Raffaele pinched the massive, flawless diamond engagement ring that sat on her ring finger.
"Raffaele... please," Victoria whimpered, her American accent breaking into a pathetic, desperate plea. "I'm sorry. I was just stressed. The wedding planning... it was a mistake."
Raffaele did not pause. He pulled the engagement ring off her finger. The friction of the metal sliding over her knuckle felt like the severing of a lifeline.
He didn't throw the ring away. He didn't put it in his pocket. Instead, Raffaele turned her hand over, pressed the heavy diamond firmly into the center of her trembling palm, and forcefully closed her fingers around it.
He leaned in close. His angular face and high-bridged nose were mere inches from her ear. When he spoke, his volume was dangerously low, a menacing whisper that sent ice water through her veins.
"There is no 'after we marry.'"
Victoria went completely still. Her breath stopped in her throat. The finality of the statement hit her with the force of a freight train. The wealth, the power, the untouchable status she had dreamed of possessing—it all evaporated in a single, measured breath.
Raffaele stepped back, releasing her hand.
"Marco," Raffaele said, not turning his head, raising his voice just enough to carry over the silent patio.
A broad-shouldered capo stepped out from the crowd of guests, his face a mask of professional stoicism. "Yes, Boss."
"Escort Miss Hale and her daughter to the front gates," Raffaele commanded slowly. "Do not allow her to pack. Do not allow her back into the main house. Anything she leaves behind will be burned."
"Raffaele, you can't do this!" Victoria suddenly shrieked, panic overriding her fear. She pushed herself off the padded divider, clutching the ring in her fist. "My family knows people! My brother is connected to the Chicago syndicate! If you humiliate me like this, they won't let it stand!"
Raffaele paused. He slowly turned his head back toward her. A chilling, humorless smile ghosted across his sharply defined jawline.
"Your brother," Raffaele said softly, "is a rat in a basement. If he wishes to speak to me regarding this matter, tell him I welcome the conversation."
He turned his back on her and began walking toward the glass doors.
May you like
"Get your hands off me!" Victoria screamed as the two bodyguards grabbed her by the arms, dragging her ruthlessly away from the terrace. "Raffaele! You're making a mistake! Raffaele!"
He did not look back.
