The Wedding Dress That Became My War Paint

The day of my final fitting for a couture wedding gown, a woman I’d never seen before stormed into the VIP lounge with a handful of goons and stabbed me without a second thought.

"You think you can steal my man and still get to wear a dress like this?"

She ripped at the hem of my gown, laughing as she hurled a corrosive liquid at me.

The cold blade was already buried in my abdomen. Pain sent me collapsing to my knees.

But she yanked me up by my hair, forcing my head back. "Vincent is my husband. And you? You're just his dirty little secret!"

Blood dripped from my fingertips. Only then did it all click into place.

My fiancé of seven years had secretly married another woman.

"What are you looking at? Even if I kill you right here, my husband has enough power to get away with it."

Staring at her smug face, I pulled out my phone with a blood-soaked hand and dialed Enzo’s number.

"Enzo," my voice was terrifyingly calm, "come get me. The bridal shop on Madison Avenue."

"And tell Vincent the wedding—and the alliance—is off."

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1

After I hung up, the million-dollar gown was dissolving off my body, black holes gaping in the pristine fabric.

The concentrated liquid seared my exposed skin.

A foul pus mixed with blood oozed from the festering wound.

I glared at the woman before me, the fire in my eyes hot enough to burn her to ash.

But the crowd of onlookers, drawn by the commotion, just erupted in laughter.

"Hahaha, she really tried to steal from Mrs. Gallo. She's going to get what she deserves!"

Sofia jabbed a finger at my face.

"Bitch! Still playing the victim? You think making one little phone call is going to save you?"

"Who are you trying to fool? The Morettis? Never heard of them! I'm calling the cops right now to have you arrested for being a home-wrecker!"

I clutched my burning wound, hot blood steadily seeping through my fingers.

The blood loss was making my vision swim in and out of focus.

Glancing at the thugs flanking Sofia, I cursed myself for not bringing my bodyguards today.

I searched the crowd for a single sympathetic face.

But they just watched from a distance, whispering, their eyes glinting with cruel amusement.

No one dared to step forward.

Forcing back a wave of dizzying pain, I lifted my head and met Sofia’s eyes, my own burning with cold, murderous intent.

"I don't know who you are, but I'll tell you this once. My name is Moretti. Of the New York Morettis. Get out of my sight before I decide to kill you myself."

My direct gaze only enraged her. She kicked me, hard, in the stomach.

"Some damn Moretti! You think I'm scared of you?"

"Let me make one thing clear. I am Sofia Gallo, wife of Vincent Gallo, the CEO of GalloTech! Who the hell do you think you are to talk to me like that?"

The kick tore the knife wound wider. A vile mix of blood and pus gushed out.

But in that moment, I couldn't even register the pain.

Sofia’s words rang in my ears. She was Vincent’s wife?

Then what was I?

Seeing the triumphant smirk on her face, a bitter laugh escaped my lips. I finally understood.

Vincent… he cheated on me.

The man my family had chosen as our legitimate front, the man I had loved for seven years, had another wife.

This wasn't the time to fall apart. I shoved my fury down and spoke through clenched teeth.

"Sofia, is it? You're going to get me to a hospital. Now. And then you're going to tell Vincent to get his ass over here."

The shock on her face only fueled my cold resolve. I fixed her with a venomous stare.

"Because if I die today, he'll put you in the ground first."

"And Vincent will be buried right alongside me!"

The moment the words left my mouth, Sofia roared with laughter. She grabbed my hair again.

"Who do you think you are? Such big talk! You think you can order my husband around?"

She slammed my head against the wall, her voice dripping with arrogance.

"Even if I kill you, the Gallo family has enough money to make this whole thing disappear."

My head rang from the impact, my vision clouding with red.

Sofia’s sharp stiletto heel twisted relentlessly in the gash on my stomach.

A black wave of pain and despair threatened to pull me under.

Just then, the screech of tires split the air.

I saw the familiar bulletproof Cadillac pull up to the curb, and I could finally breathe again.

I looked at Sofia and let out a chilling laugh.

"I told you. I'm a Moretti. Of the New York Morettis."

"My brother is here. Are you ready to die?"