Contract Of The 7th Wife

Chapter 3: Bitter Sweetness

“Put on the diamonds, Dana. Smile for the cameras, look beautiful on my arm, and remember who owns the hand you're holding.”

Vincenzo’s threat still rang in my ears as I stepped out of the car, right into a wall of flashing lenses. Enzo had been running around the globe for months until his father finally dragged him back to the Italian Riviera. Tonight was his official public debut.

The welcome party for Carlo Dominici’s son was the grandest high-society event of the season, celebrating his return as the active COO of the Dominici Security and Logistics Group. The elite venue was overflowing with old money, marble pillars, and suffocating hypocrisy.

I maintained an elite composure and smiled, matching Vincenzo’s heavy stride as the crowd surged against the velvet ropes. I leaned into his side right on cue, letting the photographers capture a flawless image of the elite world.

But beneath the heavy silk of my couture gown, I was on high alert. My eyes moved constantly, mapping every exit, tracking every gaze, and calculating every risk the moment we cleared the doors.

Walking into the ballroom felt like stepping into a trap. I didn't have to look up to know I was being watched.

The first came from Riccardo. He stood near the grand archway, clutching a glass of scotch. He watched my every step, draining his drink with bloodshot eyes, clearly losing his mind just seeing me next to his father. I didn't dare look back at him. I couldn't risk a scene in a room packed with the country's most powerful tycoons.

The second look was harder to handle. Enzo. He stood across the room, surrounded by board members and security teams. He looked magnificent in his tailored tuxedo, standing tall with a quiet power that completely owned the space. But the moment his gray eyes found mine through the crowd, all that professional distance vanished.

The change in Enzo was immediate. From across the grand hall, his focus snapped completely onto me, cutting right through the crowd of executives around him. There was no softness in his posture, just a hard, calculating intensity. Enzo stood all the way across the crowded ballroom, but the sheer weight of his attention was impossible to ignore. In his eyes, the crowd didn't exist. He looked at me like a man who wanted to tear down everything around us.

"Look at you, playing the high-society queen," a venomous voice whispered from behind me.

I lowered my eyes, I dropped my gaze, shrinking my shoulders slightly as Sofia stepped into my path. As Vincenzo’s daughter and Enzo’s fiancée, she carried herself like she owned the place. She stood before me, her lips curling into a sharp smile.

"You look stunning tonight, stepmother," Sofia said, raising her voice just enough to draw the attention of nearby guests. "Enjoy the silk and the diamonds while they last. We all know my father disposes of his shields when they outlive their usefulness. Just make sure you don't drag the mud from your past onto our family name before you vanish."

I ducked my head meekly, smoothing a hand down my gown. "Of course, Sofia. I am only here to support your father."

Then, I stepped closer, my smile widening just a fraction as my voice dropped. "Or did you have another position in mind for me?"

Sofia's eyes narrowed, all the high-society politeness vanishing from her face. “No position is greater than the grave you already occupy,” she spat, leaning in until her diamonds brushed against my shoulder. “Bit by bit, you will look in the mirror and your skeleton will stare back at you.”

I slowly adjusted the heavy platinum band on my finger, keeping my voice entirely smooth. “Then I will make sure to look beautiful in the reflection, Sofia. After all, a Ferraro funeral requires the finest silk.”

Sofia snorted in disgust and walked back toward the crowd, leaving me alone in the ballroom.

The fake smiles, Sofia's insults, and the intense way Enzo stared at me finally became too much. I told Vincenzo I needed to fix my makeup and slipped away from the crowded room. I headed down a quiet hallway and stepped onto a dark balcony overlooking the city.

The cold night breeze hit my face, and I finally stopped acting.

Every person in that ballroom was just an asset to leverage or a liability to eliminate. I had spent months keeping the targets exactly where I needed them. But as I stared into the dark, the truth came rushing back, the one piece of the puzzle I needed to uncover to break free.

A few people knew Vincenzo had swept me out of Monaco, forcing me into a six-year contract marriage to play the mother to a newborn infant. But no one knew the nightmare that had truly unfolded inside that private resort days after the yacht party. His name was Moretti. He was my assigned client for the weekend, but something tragic happened while he sat and watched me dance.

The powerful tycoon suddenly dropped dead right in front of me. Looking at his body, I had to calculate my next move quickly. People drop dead all the time, but something was wrong about this one. I had to strip off my dance costume and get into my gown immediately. But before I could even step out to slip back into the crowd, Vincenzo showed up at the door.

He looked at Moretti's dead body, then looked at me. Forty-eight hours later, he offered me a brutal transaction. His men would clean up the mess, erase every trace of my existence from that resort, and ensure the police never linked me to the death. In return, I would sign the contract, become his seventh wife, keep my mouth shut about the baby secrets I had overheard on the yacht, and play the mother to Elio.

I squeezed the cold stone railing, the distant bass of the party thumping through the balcony floor.

A client doesn't just drop dead the exact second an undercover operative is in the room. A billionaire like Vincenzo doesn't just wander in with a cleaning crew unless the script was already written.

Two assignments had just turned into three.