The fake pregnancy bump that ended the mafia boss's engagement.

The ambient hum of the Christmas reception flowed seamlessly around the room, but the moment Aria stepped into the grand salon, she felt entirely exposed. The cascading crystal chandeliers seemed to spotlight her disheveled state. Elegantly dressed guests in tailored suits and designer gowns glanced at the rumpled, crooked maid with expressions of polite disdain.

Aria navigated the edge of the room, keeping her back pressed near the gilded mirrors. She scanned the crowd, desperately searching for Dorian’s towering, broad-shouldered frame. She saw the burgundy velvet sofas, the ornate brass candelabras, and finally, the towering Christmas tree sparkling with golden lights and crimson ribbons.

Before she could locate the mafia boss, a hand shot out from the crowd with the speed of a striking viper.

Serena Hale stepped out from behind a carved walnut column. The luxurious emerald satin of her structured gown rustled violently. Her fair, rosy skin was flushed with a sudden, panicked rage. Without a word, Serena’s manicured fingers clamped down brutally around Aria’s wrist.

Aria gasped, stumbling forward as Serena yanked her into the shadows cast by the massive evergreen garlands framing the Christmas tree, pulling her away from the direct line of sight of the mingling guests.

"What do you think you are doing down here?" Serena hissed, her voice a venomous, barely audible whisper that carried the sharp, clipped tones of her American accent.

"Let me go," Aria pleaded, her expressive eyes wide with terror as she struggled against the painful grip.

"I told you to stay in that room," Serena spat, her fingers tightening around Aria’s delicate wrist like a vice. The polished, public smile was entirely gone, replaced by a mask of feral desperation. "You are completely insane if you think you can walk into this reception looking like a vagrant and speak to my fiancé."

"He needs to know the truth, Serena," Aria whispered, her voice trembling but laced with a sudden, desperate courage. "You are lying to him. You are lying to the entire syndicate. There is no baby."

Serena’s eyes darkened with a murderous intent. She leaned in closer, her diamond earrings catching the fairy lights of the Christmas tree.

"Listen to me, you pathetic little servant," Serena threatened, her voice shaking with rage. "If you take one more step toward Dorian, I will have my family's enforcers drag you out of this mansion tonight. You will disappear. And then I will tell Dorian that you were caught stealing from my private safe. Who do you think he will believe? The woman carrying his supposed heir, or a disheveled maid?"

Aria’s breath hitched. She felt the crushing reality of the mafia hierarchy pressing down on her. Serena was right. Without physical proof, Aria was nothing more than a disposable casualty in a war between billionaires.

"You can't keep this a secret forever," Aria argued weakly, her heart hammering against her ribs.

"I only need to keep it a secret until the wedding rings are on," Serena replied coldly, a victorious, cruel smirk touching her lips. "Once the merger is finalized, I will tragically lose the baby. It happens all the time. Dorian will be devastated, but our families will be permanently bound. And you will be dead."