Chapter 3 - The Flawless Fiancée
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Alessandro dismissed Fatima and Amara with a strict instruction to remain in their quarters and lock the door. When he returned to the ballroom, the crystal chandeliers seemed to cast a harsher, colder light.
He found Genevieve standing near the balcony, the night wind gently catching the ivory silk of her dress. She was breathtaking. He had spent his entire life surrounded by the grime of the Chicago underworld, trying to scrub his family name clean, and Genevieve had felt like his absolution. She came from old money—a quiet, respectable family in Connecticut. She was graceful, philanthropic, and possessed a flawless reputation.
Too flawless.
As he watched her laugh at a joke made by his lead attorney, Alessandro’s mind raced backward. He stripped away the romance and analyzed the past sixteen months like a forensic accountant.
They had met at a charity auction for the very hospital wing his mother had funded. Genevieve had spilled champagne on his jacket. An accident, she had claimed. But she had known exactly who he was. She had ordered his favorite scotch without asking. She had worn the specific scent of jasmine his mother used to wear.
She hadn't fallen in love with him. She had studied him.
“Alessandro,” she purred, walking toward him and slipping her arm through his. “You look terribly serious. Are you getting cold feet?”
“Never,” he lied smoothly, kissing the top of her head. “Just thinking about tomorrow. The logistics of the reception.”
“Don't worry about a thing,” Genevieve smiled, looking up at him with those wide, clear eyes. “My uncle has everything under control. He even brought his own security detail to help your men.”
Alessandro’s blood ran cold. The ‘uncle’ she had invited. A man named Arthur Vance, whom she claimed was a retired banker from London. He had only arrived in Chicago two days ago.
“That’s very generous of him,” Alessandro murmured.
May you like
“We just want tomorrow to be unforgettable,” she said softly, tracing the lapel of his jacket.
“Oh, it will be,” Alessandro promised, his dark eyes locking onto hers. He saw the lie now. It was buried deep, underneath the poise and the expensive perfume. She was a viper wrapped in white silk, and she was waiting for the altar to strike.
