Smack!
A crisp slap echoed.
The plate shattered to pieces. Cream mixed with porcelain shards plastered her face.
The makeup she had spent two hours perfecting now made her look like a melting clown.
The crowd instantly exploded.
"Jesus! Is this bitch crazy? She actually hit Santino's assistant?"
"Those are the Moretti family's people! She has a death wish!"
"God save her, she's gonna get skinned alive for this."
The crowd pointed fingers, their eyes full of schadenfreude and the pity reserved for a dead woman walking.
Not wanting to stick around and be a spectacle, I turned to leave.
Seeing me walk away, Bella rushed forward and grabbed me.
"Livia! You bitch, you dare hit me?!"
Bella shrieked, her eyes bloodshot, looking ready to tear me limb from limb.
Facing her threat, I didn't even blink.
"Bella, did you eat out of a toilet bowl this morning? Your breath stinks."
"If you really piss me off, forget about you—not even that idiot Santino can save your life."
My voice was ice cold; I had absolutely had it with this stupid woman's insolence.
Bella went completely mad, spitting on the floor.
"Security! Grab her and break her legs!"
Bella called the bodyguards over, surrounding me.
"This is New York! This is Moretti turf! Killing you is easier than crushing a bug!"
"Do it!"
Bella looked at me smugly, clearly treating me like dead meat on a chopping block, entirely at her mercy.
The goons raised their batons.
Just then, an icy voice came from behind.
"Stop."
The voice wasn't loud, but it carried an unquestionable authority.
A group of suited bodyguards parted the crowd, and a tall man wearing a bespoke Italian suit walked in.
It was Santino Moretti.
He really was good-looking; no wonder my father insisted I meet him.
"Bella, what the hell are you doing?"
"You're running tonight's banquet. The Falcone heiress is arriving any minute, and you're running a circus here?"
"If you screw this up, I'll toss you into the Hudson River to feed the fish."
Bella instantly switched faces. Acting as wronged as a frightened kitten, she threw herself into Santino's arms.
"Mr. Santino, it was this country bumpkin who snuck in and started trouble! She even assaulted me!"
"You're Santino?"
I sized the man up.
The rumors were half true—he had a nice shell, but unfortunately, his brain didn't seem to work too well.
The way he looked at me was like looking at a trash bag.
"Hello, I am—"
"Shut up. I don't give a damn about your name."
I had barely opened my mouth when he cut me off coldly.
I raised an eyebrow.
This man had even fewer manners than I imagined.
"Mr. Moretti, I think I need to reintroduce myself. I am Livia, your fiancée..."
He cut me off again, waving his hand as if swatting a fly.
"You're the fiancée my father shoved down my throat?"
"We're not a match. You can get lost now."
Santino's voice lacked any trace of warmth.
Having been interrupted twice in a row, my patience hit rock bottom.
I laughed out of pure frustration.
"We haven't even exchanged a single proper sentence, and you already know we're not a match?"
Santino scoffed, his gaze treating me like a clown.
"Go look in a mirror. Does a broke, pathetic rat like you deserve to step through the Moretti family doors?"
"Whether it's status or class, we are from two totally different worlds."
"My father must have gone senile, actually wanting me to marry a hillbilly."
"The eldest daughter of the Falcone family will be here soon, and I need this VIP suite to host her. Take the money and get the hell out. Don't force me to have my guards throw you out; it'll get ugly."
Santino casually tossed two stacks of cash from the table in front of me, entirely unaware that the woman standing right in front of him was the eldest daughter of the Falcone family.
I suddenly let out a laugh.
Like master, like dog.
Both the master and the servant loved throwing money in people's faces.
I only came to this banquet out of respect for my father.
I didn't expect this bunch of idiots to treat themselves like God.
Seeing that I didn't move, Bella fanned the flames beside him.
"Mr. Santino gave you a handout, aren't you going to get on your knees and say thank you? Think it's too little?"
Santino's face darkened:
"Livia, don't be greedy. Twenty grand is enough for you to build a house back in the sticks."
I nodded:
"It is a lot."
To an ordinary person, it definitely was.
But to me, it was just a number.
A playful smirk curled the corner of my mouth:
"Are you sure you want to kick me out?"
"Don't say I didn't warn you: the second I walk out that door, this engagement is over."
