My fiancé stole my sister on the very night he was supposed to propose to me, and my own mother told me not to embarrass the family. Ten minutes later, his older brother—the most feared Mafia Boss in Chicago—made me an offer so outrageous it would change every powerful family in the city forever.

The victory at the council chamber secured Nikolai’s position, but it also pushed Julian and my family into a corner. And trapped animals are always the most dangerous.

Two weeks after the vote, a grand charity gala was held at the Chicago Museum of Fine Arts—an event organized by my mother to raise funds for local hospitals.

It was the first public event where both branches of the family were forced to interact under the gaze of Chicago society.

Nikolai and I arrived together. Our marriage had become the talk of the country; the tabloids hailed us as the ultimate power couple, while business journals marveled at the seamless integration of the Hart trusts into Moretti Logistics.

As we walked through the museum’s grand hall, surrounded by ancient statues and high society patrons, I noticed Serena watching us from near the champagne tower.

She looked thin, stressed, and her pink dress looked slightly rumpled. Julian was standing near the bar, downing scotch after scotch, his eyes fixed on Nikolai with pure, unadulterated hatred.

Nikolai leaned down to my ear. "I need to step into the private gallery for ten minutes. Senator Harrison is inside, and we need his vote on the riverfront zoning bill."

"Go," I whispered, smiling up at him. "I can handle the floor."

Nikolai kissed my cheek softly—a gesture that sent a rush of genuine warmth through me—before disappearing into the private gallery with two bodyguards.

The moment Nikolai left my side, Serena approached me, carrying two glasses of white wine.

"Evelyn," Serena said, her voice sounding timid, almost broken.

I kept my posture rigid. "Serena."

"Can we talk?" she asked, tears welling in her eyes. "Just for two minutes? In the sculpture garden? I... I know I hurt you. I want to apologize."

I looked at her carefully. I knew my sister. She was a master of playing the victim, but the terror in her eyes tonight looked genuine.

"Two minutes," I said coldly.

I followed her out through the glass doors into the quiet, dimly lit sculpture garden overlooking the river. The winter air was crisp, and the sound of the city traffic hummed faintly in the distance.

Serena turned to me, handing me one of the wine glasses. "I was stupid, Evelyn. Julian lied to me. He told me you didn't want him! He told me you were planning to break up with him anyway!"

"And you believed him because it gave you what you wanted," I replied, refusing the glass of wine she offered. I set it down on a stone pedestal beside a marble statue. "Don't play the innocent fool now, Serena. You wanted my life."

"I didn't know!" Serena sobbed, grabbing my forearm. "He's losing his mind, Evelyn! Ever since the council vote, he's been talking to men from the Detroit syndicate! He says he's going to fix everything!"

My blood ran cold. The Detroit syndicate was the Moretti family's fiercest rival—a violent, lawless organization that had been trying to push into Chicago for a decade.

"What did you say?" I demanded, grabbing Serena’s wrist. "What is Julian planning?"

Before Serena could answer, a shadow moved behind the marble pillars.