The Mafia's Don Plus Size Bride

THE QUEEN'S DOMAIN

He stood there for a moment, catching his breath. Then he reached into his pocket, pulled out a clean white handkerchief, and wiped himself off. He tucked everything away and zipped up.

Lorenzo bent down, gripped both of my shoulders hard, and forced me to look up at him. His eyes were cold again.

"Listen carefully," he said. "Mrs Moretti is here. She does not like fat bitches in her house. Keep your mouth shut, stay out of her way, and do not make her notice you. If you cause a problem, I will not protect you. Understand?"

I nodded, still on my knees, the mess cooling on my skin.

"Good," he said. "Now stand up and clean yourself. We are going to meet her."

My hands trembled as I used a damp cloth from the bathroom sink to wipe my face and neck. Every movement made the my shoulders throb in horror, I pulled my oversized shirt down as far as it would go, but there was no hiding what I was. I felt cheap, dirty, and utterly fat.

"Hurry up," Lorenzo barked from the doorway, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed.

"I am done," I whispered, keeping my eyes on the floor.

He turned without another word, his long strides forcing me to almost run just to keep up. We walked down a wide hallway lined with expensive marble tiles that echoed under his shoes. The air in the villa smelled like expensive jasmine and sandalwood, a rich, suffocating scent that made my stomach turn.

As we stepped into the grand living room, my feet dragged to a halt.

A woman was sitting on a cream velvet sofa, sipping wine from a crystal glass. She was breathtaking. Her long, dark hair fell in perfect waves over her shoulders, and her beige silk dress clung to a body that looked like a sculptor had carved it. She had long, flawless legs, a tiny waist, and striking green eyes that immediately locked onto us.

A sharp pang of jealousy and deep inferiority sliced through my chest. Looking at her, I felt like a monster standing next to a goddess.

"Lorenzo, darling," she said, her voice smooth like honey. She did not bother to stand up. "You brought trash home."

Lorenzo walked over, leaning down to plant a brief, emotionless kiss on her cheek. "It is just business, Camila."

Camila set her glass down with a soft clink, her sharp green eyes sweeping over my plump frame, my face, and my stained, faded clothes. A small, disgusted smirk touched her painted lips.

"Who is she?" Camila asked, waving a hand toward me as if I were a piece of stray furniture. "She looks like she belongs in a barn."

"She is not important," Lorenzo said flatly, his tone completely flat. "Do not give her much thought. She is just here to work off an old family debt."

I bit the inside of my cheek until I tasted copper, blinking back the hot tears stinging my eyes. Four years ago, he had looked at me like I was his entire world. Now, he tossed my existence aside like garbage in front of his stunning wife.

Camila let out a soft laugh and stood up, placing a manicured hand on Lorenzo's chest. "Well, keep her out of my sight. I do not want to look at that while I eat."

She pulled Lorenzo aside toward the patio glass doors, leaning in close to whisper something in his ear. Lorenzo kept his face blank, nodding once, completely ignoring me as I stood stranded in the middle of the room.

By eight o'clock, the dining room was set for a grand dinner.

A heavy mahogany table sat under a crystal chandelier. Lorenzo sat at the head, his jacket off, his white shirt unbuttoned at the collar. Camila sat to his right, cutting her steak with delicate precision. I was forced to stand near the door frame, motionless, like a servant waiting for orders.

Camila suddenly set her fork down with a sharp clatter. "Lorenzo, this is absurd."

Lorenzo did not look up from his plate. "What is?"

"That thing standing over there," Camila said, pointing a gold tipped fingernail directly at me. "I am trying to enjoy my meal, and she is standing so close I can hear her breathing. It is repulsive."

I lowered my head, my knuckles turning white as I clenched my hands into fists behind my back.

"Look at her," Camila continued, her voice dripping with venom. "She is ugly, and fat, and covered in filth. Why is she standing in my dining room?"

Lorenzo paused, his fork hovering midair. For a fraction of a second, his jaw tightened so hard a muscle twitched in his cheek. He set his cutlery down on the cloth, pulled his napkin from his lap, and tossed it onto the table.

He stood up, reaching up to loosen his dark tie with one hand.

"Get lost, Kate," Lorenzo said coldly, not looking at me as he turned on his heel to walk toward his private study.

"Thank you, darling," Camila called after him with a sweet smile.

The moment Lorenzo's footsteps faded down the corridor, the sweet smile vanished from Camila's face. She stood up instantly, her high heels clicking loudly against the marble as she marched straight toward me.

Before I could step back, her hand shot out and clamped down on my wrist like an iron vise, her sharp nails digging directly into my bruised skin.

"Ow! Let go!" I gasped, trying to pull away.

Camila jerked me closer, her face inches from mine, her green eyes burning with pure, murderous malice.

"Listen to me, you fat little rat," Camila spat through her teeth, her grip tightening until my bones ached. "I know who you are. I know what you used to be to him. Now tell me the truth before I have the guards cut your tongue out. What business do you really have here with my husband?"