Chapter 1 - The Diamond's Edge
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The platinum ring on Bianca Moretti’s finger was enormous, its raw-cut diamonds set into sharp, uneven metal edges. It was meant to symbolize the multi-million-dollar alliance between the Moretti and Rossi crime families.
Tonight, it was a weapon.
Bianca swung her hand directly at the face of Carmela Rossi.
I didn't think. I didn't hesitate. I threw my body between the sharp diamond ring and the frail, elderly woman who had spent the last two years treating me like a daughter instead of a house servant.
The impact tore through my cheek like a jagged blade. Pain exploded behind my eyes, and the sheer momentum knocked me off my feet. I crashed onto the cold conservatory tile, my vision swimming in crimson.
Carmela let out a high, terrified scream. She dropped to her knees beside me, her trembling hands pressing against my face as blood poured over my fingers and pooled onto the crisp white cotton of my maid’s apron.
“Skyler! Oh God, Skyler!” Carmela sobbed, her voice breaking.
Bianca stood over us, smoothing down the front of her white designer gown—now ruined by a splatter of red wine. She looked at my bleeding face with cold, aristocratic disgust.
“Look what you made me do, you fat, clumsy cow,” Bianca sneered, flicking a drop of my blood off her manicured wrist. “You’re lucky I don’t have my father’s men toss you into the Hudson River for touching me.”
“You monster!” Carmela whimpered, shielding my head with her silk shawl. “You tried to hit me!”
“Shut up, old woman,” Bianca snapped. “You’re losing your mind. No one believes a word that comes out of your mouth anyway.”
The heavy wrought-iron doors of the conservatory burst open.
Dominic Rossi stepped through the frame.
He was tailored in a black tuxedo, his imposing six-foot-three frame filling the doorway. Two armed security men stood at his back.
His dark eyes swept across the room—taking in his terrified, weeping mother, my blood-soaked apron, and Bianca standing over us.
Bianca’s face instantly shifted into a mask of delicate panic. Her eyes welled with practiced tears.
“Dominic! Thank God you’re here!” she cried, running toward him. “Your mother had another episode! She became confused and threw wine at me. When I tried to calm her, this crazy maid attacked me!”
Dominic didn't look at Bianca. He didn't even acknowledge her voice.
He walked past her, his heavy leather shoes echoing against the tile, and dropped to one knee beside me.
He pulled a silk handkerchief from his pocket and pressed it firmly against the open wound on my cheek. His hand was steady, but I could feel the violent heat radiating from his body.
Carmela grabbed his sleeve, her chest heaving. “She threatened me, Dominic! She said she was sending me away after the wedding! Skyler took the blow meant for me!”
Dominic looked down into my eyes. His expression was an eerie, unnatural calm—the calm of a predator deciding how to slaughter its prey.
“Is this true, Skyler?” he asked quietly.
I squeezed my eyes shut against the throb in my jaw, then managed a single, bloody nod.
“She lied,” I whispered. “Your mother was only trying to protect herself.”
Dominic stood up slowly. He turned around to face the woman he was supposed to marry before midnight.
“Dominic, darling, you can’t believe them—” Bianca began, taking a step forward.
“Remove the ring,” Dominic said.
The silence in the room became absolute.
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“What?” Bianca whispered, her voice trembling.
“Remove the ring,” he repeated, pointing to the wrought-iron table. “Place it on the tile. Now.”
