Chapter 7 - THE REPLACEMENT BRIDE
"No," I said instantly, pushing the box back across the steel desk. "Absolutely not. I am a maid, Luca. I am not an assassin, and I am certainly not your shield."
"You won't be a shield," he replied without a trace of anger. "You'll be covered in three layers of Kevlar weave beneath four yards of French lace. You'll wear a cathedral-length lace veil that completely obscures your face until you reach the altar."
"And when I reach the altar? When Marco blows through the stained-glass windows?"
"He won't make it to the altar," Luca said, his voice flat with chilling certainty. "The organ loft will be manned by my snipers. The pews will be filled with two hundred armed soldiers dressed in custom morning suits. Marco thinks he’s walking into an ambush of his own design. He’s walking into a meat grinder."
"And if your plan fails by five seconds? A bullet doesn't care about French lace, Luca."
He stepped closer, closing the distance until I could feel the heat radiating from his chest. He reached down and took my bandaged left hand in his, lifting it gently. His thumb rubbed over the bruised skin visible beneath the cuff.
"You spent your life being invisible, Claire," he murmured, his eyes searching mine. "People look through you. They throw trays at you, twist your wrists behind locked doors, and treat you like scenery in their miserable games. But you saw what nobody else saw. You brought me the card. You held your ground at the Drake."
"That doesn't mean I want to die for you," I whispered, though my voice lacked conviction.
"You won't die. I give you my word on my father’s grave. And when this is over, you walk away with ten million dollars, a clean passport, and an estate in southern Italy under any name you choose."
Ten million dollars. Freedom from scrubbing toilets, freedom from debt, freedom from looking over my shoulder for the rest of my life.
"Why me?" I asked, looking into his eyes. "You have female operatives. You have women in your syndicate who know how to shoot."
"Because Marco’s spotters are watching the estate right now," Luca explained. "They know your height. They know your build. If I bring in an operative, they’ll notice the shift in staff. But you... you're already here. You leave the estate in the bridal limousine wearing the dress. To every scope on the street, you are Vanessa Bellini."
I looked down at the velvet box. The emerald caught the fluorescent bunker light, throwing deep green sparks across the gray steel.
"One condition," I said.
Luca raised an eyebrow. "Name it."
"If Vanessa tries to bargain her way out of prison by blaming me for the theft of that card, you put her in a cell yourself."
A dark, genuine grin curved Luca’s lips. It was the first time I had ever seen him smile, and it transformed his severe, dangerous face into something breathtakingly magnetic.
"Done," he said.
The next forty-eight hours were a blur of adrenaline, military rehearsals, and high-fashion espionage.
Tailors were brought in blindfolded to alter the multi-thousand-dollar gown to my exact measurements. Beneath the silk petticoats, ballistic technicians fitted a lightweight ceramic trauma plate over my torso. In the hidden pocket sewn into the right hip of the voluminous lace skirt, they holstered a compact Glock 43 with a hollow-point magazine.
By Saturday morning, the weather over Chicago had turned brutal. Sleet pounded against the mansion windows, washing the stone balustrades in sheets of gray ice.
Elena helped me into the dress. The weight of the fabric was immense—heavy, royal, suffocating. She draped the intricate lace veil over my head. Through the sheer netting, the world became a fractured, dreamlike blur.
The door opened.
Luca stood there, wearing a black tuxedo with a white rose pinned to his lapel. For a moment, he stopped in his tracks, his eyes scanning the white lace, the fitted waist, and the green emerald ring gleaming on my right hand.
May you like
"Time to go, Claire," he said softly.
I took a deep breath, gathered the heavy silk skirt in my right hand, and stepped out into the war.
