The Exhausted Caterer Woke in Chicago’s Most Feared Man’s Bed—Then His Grandmother Announced a Wedding Before Breakfast

By three o'clock that afternoon, Harper’s world had been completely dismantled and reassembled according to Dominic Castelli’s specifications.

She sat in the primary dressing suite of the estate’s west wing, watching two high-end tailors from Michigan Avenue adjust the hem of a crimson silk dress. On the velvet couch lay three leather suitcases filled with designer clothes, shoes, and jewelry—all delivered on Dominic’s orders within two hours of Lorenzo Marino’s departure.

Her phone buzzed on the vanity table. It was her manager from Silver Spoon Catering, Brenda.

Harper picked it up, her knuckles white.

“Harper!” Brenda’s voice came through the speaker, high-pitched and nervous. “Where are you? You missed your morning shift at the Drake Hotel! The client is furious!”

Harper looked at her reflection in the mirror. Beside her stood two silent, muscular guards wearing dark suits and ear pieces.

“I won't be coming back to Silver Spoon, Brenda,” Harper said, her voice surprisingly steady.

“What? You can’t just quit! I’ll report you to the agency! I’ll make sure you never work a catering event in this city again!”

The door to the dressing room clicked open, and Dominic stepped inside. He glanced at the phone in Harper’s hand, took it gently from her grip, and brought it to his ear.

“Brenda,” Dominic said softly.

The line went completely dead for three full seconds.

“M-Mr. Castelli?” Brenda stammered, her voice instantly dropping into sheer panic.

“Harper’s employment with your firm is terminated,” Dominic said coldly. “Furthermore, my auditors are currently reviewing the security tapes from last night’s gala. They tell me you received a wire transfer of fifty thousand dollars from a shell company registered in Cicero at 2:00 AM.”

A gasp echoed over the line. “Mr. Castelli... please! I didn't know what they were going to do! They just told me to leave the keycard—”

“You have two hours to leave Chicago, Brenda,” Dominic interrupted quietly. “If you are still within state lines by six o'clock, my men will come find you.”

Dominic hung up the phone and tossed it onto the sofa. He gestured to the tailors and the guards, who immediately bowed their heads and exited the room, closing the heavy doors behind them.

Harper stood up, adjusting the red silk dress. “Was that necessary?”

“She sold you out for fifty grand, Harper,” Dominic said, leaning against the doorframe, his amber eyes scanning her from head to toe. “She put you in a room with a potential killer. She’s lucky I’m letting her walk to her car.”

Harper swallowed hard, looking away. “I need to talk to my parents, Dominic. My mother expects me to bring her heart medication this evening.”

Dominic reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small black box, setting it on the vanity table.

“Your mother’s medication was delivered to her house an hour ago by a private nurse,” Dominic said. “A specialized cardiologist from Northwestern Hospital is currently reviewing her charts. She will receive the best care in the country, fully paid for.”

Harper stared at the black box, then at him. “Why are you doing all of this? You could have just paid off Marino or killed Marco.”

“Marino wants a war, Harper,” Dominic said, walking slowly toward her until he stood directly behind her in front of the mirror. He rested his large, scarred hands on her shoulders. “He thinks I’m soft because I haven't taken out his territory yet. By making you my fiancée, I’m showing him that I’m secure, that I have no vulnerabilities, and that I’m backed by the unions.”

He opened the black box.

Inside rested an extraordinary diamond ring—a flawless, emerald-cut stone surrounded by black diamonds, set in platinum. It was heavy, dark, and mesmerizing.

Dominic lifted the ring from the velvet casing. He took Harper’s left hand in his. His skin was warm, rough with calluses, contrasting sharply with her smooth, delicate fingers.

“This belonged to my grandmother,” Dominic said, sliding the ring onto her finger. It fit perfectly. “She wore it when my grandfather took control of the North Side fifty years ago. As long as this ring is on your finger, you are untouchable.”

Harper looked at the diamond sparkling in the mirror, feeling the immense weight of the family it represented.

“And what happens when the war with Marino is over?” Harper asked softly, looking up into his eyes in the mirror’s reflection.