She attacked the curvy nanny in front of everyone, then the mafia boss walked in and called her his wife

The master suite was transformed into a chaotic, high-end bridal salon by mid-afternoon.

Luca had summoned a team of elite Italian stylists and designers to prepare Nora for her first official public appearance as the Don’s wife. For hours, she was pampered, painted, and pinned.

When the styling team finally retreated, Nora stood alone in front of the massive floor-to-ceiling mirror. She gasped, her hands flying to cover her mouth.

She did not look like the exhausted, insecure woman Gregory had constantly belittled.

Her dark brown hair was swept into an elegant, cascading updo, framing her face perfectly. Her makeup was sharp and dramatic, highlighting her high cheekbones and full lips. But it was the dress that stole her breath.

It was a custom, floor-length gown made of liquid black silk. It hugged her curves flawlessly, celebrating the softness Gregory had hated, tapering down into a dramatic, sweeping train. The neckline plunged daringly, and a jaw-dropping necklace of flawless white diamonds rested against her collarbone—a piece from the Castellano family vault.

The heavy bedroom doors clicked open.

Luca walked in, wearing a bespoke, razor-sharp black tuxedo. He stopped completely dead in his tracks.

The air vanished from the room. Luca stared at her, his dark eyes sweeping slowly, agonizingly over every inch of her body. The sheer, unadulterated hunger in his gaze made Nora’s pulse spike dangerously.

“You are a vision,” Luca breathed, his voice rough and incredibly low.

He walked slowly across the room, stopping just inches behind her. He looked at their reflection in the mirror. He looked like a dark, terrifying king, and she looked like a queen entirely worthy of standing by his side.

“He told me I was too plain,” Nora whispered, looking at the mirror, the ghost of her past insecurities trying one last time to haunt her. “He told me nobody would ever want me.”

Luca’s jaw clenched so hard a muscle jumped beneath his skin. He reached out, his large, warm hands resting securely on her waist, pulling her back flush against his solid chest.

“Gregory is a blind, pathetic coward who couldn't handle the fire you possess,” Luca murmured, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to the bare skin of her shoulder. “Tonight, you are going to walk into that ballroom, and you are going to blind him.”

Nora leaned back into his embrace, closing her eyes, feeling an overwhelming, intoxicating sense of absolute safety and power.