My Fiancé’s Mistress Called Me A Bitch

The air was thick with tension.

Bianca was still waiting for me to kneel.

I looked at her dusty high heels and let out a small laugh.

“There’s an old Sicilian saying,” I said, switching to a flawless Sicilian dialect, my tone soft but laced with venom. “‘You can put lipstick on a pig, but it’s still a pig.’”

I switched back to English, my eyes boring into hers. “You can wear my ring, Bianca. But not even ten bottles of Chanel can cover up the stink of the gutter you crawled out of.”

Bianca’s face turned a shade of purple.

“You bitch!”

She screamed and lunged, her long nails aimed straight for my eyes.

Too slow. For me, it was like watching her move through water.

I didn’t retreat. I stepped forward.

My left hand shot out, clamping down on her wrist. With my right, I twisted her arm back until the elbow joint gave way.

CRACK.

The sharp sound of bone breaking echoed through the silent VIP room.

“AHHH!”

Bianca let out a bloodcurdling scream and collapsed, clutching her mangled arm, sobbing in agony.

I let go, tossing her aside like a piece of trash.

“Send the ring back to the Valenti estate,” I ordered the terrified manager. “If a single diamond is missing, I’ll be taking one of your eyes as payment.”

Just as the manager was shakily reaching for the ring, the roar of an engine shattered the quiet.

A flashy red Lamborghini ignored the no-parking signs and screeched to a halt right in front of the store.

The door swung open.

A long leg stepped out.

Marco Ricci.

I had to admit, for an asshole on the phone, he had the kind of face that could make any woman a fool.

Deep-set eyes, a strong nose, and that raw, dangerous, bad-boy charm.

I’ve always had a weakness for a handsome face, and my stupid heart did a little flip.

Maybe this was all a misunderstanding. Maybe he was just being played.

After all, he was the ally my family had hand-picked.

Marco strode into the store and his eyes immediately landed on Bianca, wailing on the floor.

“Marco! Darling! Help me!” Bianca cried, holding up her broken wrist. “This psycho… she tried to kill me! She said the Ricci family wasn’t even fit to shine her shoes!”

Marco’s eyes turned black with rage.

He whipped his head around, his gaze locking onto me.

“You did this to her?” His voice was low, thick with menace.

I took a deep breath, straightened my back, and summoned the authority of a family heir.

“Marco, I believe we need a proper introduction,” I said, meeting his gaze. “I am Seraphina Valenti. That is my engagement ring. This woman tried to steal it and humiliate me. I simply taught her a small lesson.”

I thought my words would snap him out of it.

I was wrong.

The killing intent in Marco’s eyes didn’t fade. It was replaced by a look of pure disdain.

He walked right up to me, towering over me.

“So this is the princess those old fossils tried to shove down my throat? Dressed like a nun, with the temper of a killer.”

A cold weight settled in my stomach.

“This is a marriage contract between two families, Marco,” I reminded him.

“A contract?” Marco scoffed. In front of everyone, he pulled Bianca into his arms and kissed her tear-stained face. “Listen, sweetheart. I don’t give a damn if you’re a Valenti or some forgotten royalty. This is Chicago.”

He pointed a finger in my face, humiliating me word by word.

“To those old men, this might be an alliance. To me, it’s a joke. Look at you. You reek of old money and decay. You really think you’re worthy of the Ricci name?”

He threw my own insult right back at me.

“One strand of Bianca’s hair,” Marco added, his voice dropping with brutal finality, “is worth more than your entire washed-up family.”

The crowd erupted in hushed whispers and mocking laughter.

Nestled in Marco’s arms, Bianca shot me a vicious, triumphant smirk.

I looked at the man in front of me, a man with nothing but a handsome shell, and that flicker of attraction I’d felt vanished.

In its place was a cold that went straight to my bones.

So this was my fiancé.

A stupid, blind, arrogant piece of trash.

Whatever light was in my eyes died. All that was left was the ice-cold pride that ran in Valenti blood.

“Fine.”

I nodded, my voice terrifyingly calm.

“In that case, I won’t waste any more of my time.”

I took a step back, putting distance between myself and this pathetic pair, looking at them as if they were already dead.

“Go back and tell your father, Vito,” I announced coldly, interrupting Marco before he could speak again, “the alliance with the Valenti family is off.”

“It’s not that I’m not good enough for the Riccis,” I said, my voice dangerously soft. “It’s that the Riccis were never good enough for me. Your bloodline is too weak to marry into mine.”