“Don't Touch Me!” She Cried—The Mafia Boss Froze When He Recognized the Ring on Her Finger

The transformation took six hours.

Gabriel’s private styling team descended on the penthouse, armed with silk, cosmetics, and expensive jewelry. When they finally stepped away, Madeline barely recognized the woman staring back at her in the full-length mirror.

She wore a floor-length gown made of liquid black satin. It clung to her curves, featuring a daring slit up the thigh and a plunging neckline. Her hair, usually tied in a messy waitress bun, fell in soft, dark waves over her bare shoulders. A diamond choker rested against her collarbone.

But the most important piece was on her left hand. The emerald ring had been polished until the rose gold gleamed and the green stone caught the light like a dangerous, captured star.

The bedroom door opened. Gabriel stepped in, and for the first time since she met him, the mafia boss seemed entirely speechless.

He stopped dead in his tracks. His eyes swept over her, a sudden, dark heat flaring in his expression before he forcefully masked it behind his usual cold facade.

"Will I do?" Madeline asked, her voice trembling slightly.

"You look..." Gabriel cleared his throat, adjusting his black silk tie. "Adequate."

Madeline rolled her eyes. "Don't overwhelm me with compliments, Costello."

A faint smirk played on his lips. He walked toward her, holding out a black velvet box. Inside was a tiny earpiece.

"Keep this in. Dominic and my men will be surrounding the perimeter," Gabriel instructed, his tone turning strictly business. "I will be inside, but keeping my distance. You are going to go to the high-stakes baccarat table. You are going to bet large, and you are going to make sure your left hand is very, very visible."

"Got it," she breathed.

Gabriel looked at her for a long moment. "Are you scared?"