Loreley stood poised at the edge of the ballroom, her fingers wrapped around the stem of a half-full glass of wine.
The dress she wore—midnight blue, silk hugging every dip and curve—had been hand-selected for this moment, for this night.
Zayden had told her himself: Look the part, Loreley. It's time.
Tonight was supposed to be hers.
It was supposed to be the moment she was introduced as his fiancée. The future queen of the Xandros mafia empire.
Her stomach tightened as she watched Zayden, her Zayden, ascend the small stage in the center of the room.
His presence commanded attention, the kind of authority that didn't need to be announced. He was dressed in a sleek black tuxedo, a silver cufflink glinting when he adjusted his sleeve.
He didn't scan the room for her. He didn't even look in her direction.
Loreley smiled to herself. He was putting on a show, drawing out the moment.
Always dramatic, she thought, shifting her weight in her heels.
Then he spoke.
"There's a reason I gathered you all here tonight," Zayden's voice carried easily, rich and smooth, an emperor speaking to his court. "For years, my father built this empire on power and loyalty. Strength. We honor those traditions."
The room quieted.
"And so, tonight, I want to introduce you to the woman who will stand by my side as I lead us into a new era."
This was it.
Loreley lifted her chin, steadying her breath. Her heart pounded against her ribs. She let herself exhale slowly, carefully, preparing to step forward when he called her name.
Zayden's lips curled into a slow smirk. "Brooks Bellini."
The room erupted into applause.
Loreley's mind went blank.
She didn't move. She couldn't.
There had to be a mistake.
A blur of blonde curls swept past her, and then Brooks Bellini was taking the stage, slipping her hand into Zayden's like it belonged there.
Like she belonged there.
Brooks beamed, her picture-perfect beauty amplified by the shimmering gold dress that clung to her frame.
"I've always known he'd choose me," she purred, loud enough for those nearby to hear.
Loreley barely heard the words over the roaring in her ears.
This wasn't happening.
She forced her body to move, stepping forward, but her father's hand closed over her wrist in a silent warning.
Don Moretti.
Her father, the man who had orchestrated her entire life, was sitting in silence. Unmoving. Not stopping this horror.
Her throat tightened.
Zayden's gaze flicked over the room, and for a split second, it landed on her. There was nothing there—no apology, no explanation. Just cold indifference.
Loreley's blood ran ice-cold.
Then, as if he had decided she wasn't even worth the glance, he turned back to his fiancée. His real fiancée.
The room blurred. Whispers swirled around her like a venomous fog.
Loreley Moretti? Did she think she had a chance? Poor girl.
Loreley inhaled sharply, pushing past the tightness in her chest, and moved. She strode across the ballroom, heels clicking sharply against marble, until she stood before the stage.
"Zayden," she said, her voice cutting through the noise.
Conversations died instantly.
Zayden's brows lifted, feigned surprise painting his features.
She didn't blink. "What is this?"
Zayden exhaled, almost as if he was bored . "It's exactly what it looks like."
Loreley didn't flinch, even as the weight of a dozens of eyes pressed down on her. "You said—"
"I said a lot of things." Zayden's voice was smooth, but there was steel beneath it.
Loreley's nails dug into her palm. "You promised me—"
"I promised nothing." His gaze darkened. "You were never strong enough for this life. Never… good enough, perhaps."
The words hit her harder than any bullet ever could.
A soft laugh, dripping in amusement, came from beside him. Brooks.
"You actually thought he'd marry you ?" Brooks stepped forward, her smile cruel. "Oh, sweetheart, Zayden was mine before you were ever an option."
Loreley's vision sharpened.
Brooks took a step closer, tilting her head. "You really shouldn't have let yourself get so comfortable, Loreley."
The room was silent. Watching. Waiting.
Loreley's pulse thrummed against her throat.
Brooks leaned in just slightly, voice dropping to something private. "You never belonged in this world."
Loreley's fingers twitched. The urge to claw that smug expression right off Brooks's face burned through her.
Not here. Not now.
She exhaled, slow and steady, then turned—turned away from Zayden, from Brooks, from the suffocating scent of betrayal and humiliation.
She stepped down from the stage, forcing her legs to move, to keep moving, even when every muscle in her body begged her to stop.
And then, just before she reached the doors, she felt a gaze on her.
Different.
Sharp.
She glanced sideways, and her eyes locked with Dominic's. Zayden's right-hand man.
He was watching her. Not with pity, not with amusement. But with something else. Calculation.
Loreley didn't have the energy to figure out what it meant.
She shoved past the double doors, out of the ballroom, out of the suffocating space that had stolen her future.
"Loreley—"
Her brother Luka caught up to her just as she reached the main entrance.
"Don't," she snapped, ripping her arm free.
His expression twisted in frustration. "I didn't know, I swear—"
She laughed, a bitter, broken sound. "And that makes it better?"
Luka hesitated. "Loreley—"
But she was already stepping away, back straight, heels clicking against the stone steps.
She wouldn't cry.
She wouldn't .
Loreley Moretti had just lost everything.
And she would never forget who took it from her.