“I was sitting in the Presidential Suite in my heavy silk wedding dress, waiting to marry the heir of the Moretti syndicate to save my family from insurmountable debt. Then, my assistant handed me the morning tabloid. My fiancé, Marco, had fled to Paris with a half-dressed chorus girl, declaring to the world that he was breaking his chains. My father burst into the room, terrified that rival families would slaughter us by midnight, and demanded I go beg the Morettis for mercy. But the Moretti family's ruthless matriarch and their 'Fixer' had a different plan. To cover up Marco's cowardice and protect their syndicate's reputation, they decided to tell the press that my bloodline was "impure" and cancel the wedding. Even Marco's slimy cousin tried to grope me, offering to take me off their hands as his leftover prize. They were going to nail me and my entire family to a cross of public shame just to save their own pride. I was nothing but collateral, surrounded by cowards, pawns, and opportunists who were ready to devour me to save their own necks. But I refused to be the scapegoat for a spineless boy. If I was going to be a piece on the board, I would be played by the hand of the King. I gathered my heavy skirt, walked straight into the private parlor of the apex predator himself-Don Dante Moretti-and slammed the tabloid on his mahogany desk. "Don't cancel the wedding." I looked the most dangerous man in New York dead in the eye. "Marry me."”