Chapter 3

The bag landed in a puddle with a wet slap, its zipper partly open.

Inside, I could see cheap white satin. It was a dress meant for a background extra, its hem already frayed.

Rocco’s voice was flat. "Mr. Moretti is merciful. Miss Costa needs an assistant to handle her train on the red carpet tonight. You do this, you wear this, and your cards will be active by morning. The wedding spot stays open."

He wanted me to carry the train of the woman wearing my dress. And he wanted me to do it wearing that.

It was a calculated, public humiliation.

I looked from the bag to Rocco, my body shaking but my spine rigid.

"Tell Dante Moretti to go to hell."

Rocco’s expression turned ugly. He stepped closer, jabbing a finger at me. "You stupid bitch. Do you think you’re still the lady of the house? You’re nothing. Without Mr. Moretti, you’ll be eating from dumpsters!"

He gave a sharp nod.

The Maybach’s doors flew open, and two hulking men in dark suits were on me before I could blink, twisting my arms behind my back.

"Get off me!"

My struggles were useless; the cold had already sapped all my strength.

Rocco scooped up the muddy garment bag and shoved it against my chest. "Mr. Moretti's orders. You’re doing this the hard way."

I was thrown into the back of the car, and the door slammed shut.

The interior felt arctic. My wet clothes clung to my skin, making me tremble uncontrollably.

Rocco glanced at me in the rearview mirror. "You should have kept your mouth shut. Know your place next time."

I shut my eyes, blocking him out.

Twenty minutes later, we arrived at the film festival’s backstage entrance.

I was hauled out of the car.

Down the hall in a crowded dressing room, Valentina held court while wearing my dress. Flashbulbs popped around her as Dante stood by her side, one hand resting possessively on the small of her back while he smiled for the cameras.

Catching sight of me, he murmured something to the reporters and strode over.

He frowned at the sodden garment bag in my grip.

"Why do you always make such a mess?" His tone carried that fake, exasperated concern as he started to shrug off his tailored jacket. "Just do as you’re told, Aria. I don’t like seeing you like this."

My stomach turned, and I jerked away.

His jacket fell to the dirty concrete floor.

His face hardened as the mask finally slipped.

"My patience," he said softly, dangerously, "is gone."

He grabbed my chin, forcing my head up. "Put the dress on. Now. You will follow Valentina onto that carpet and you will manage her train. If you embarrass her..."

He let go of my chin and reached into his inner pocket.

He pulled out a ring.

My breath hitched. It was a simple band set with a deep red ruby. My grandmother’s. The last thing I had of her.

"Dante! Give it back!" I lunged, but he held it high, just out of reach.

A cruel smile touched his lips. "Carry the train, and you get it back."

He held the ring over the hard floor. "Or I drop it. Your choice."