The Single Mom Sat Alone at Her Sister’s Wedding Until Chicago’s Most Feared Man Asked Her to Pretend She Was His Wife

"Mommy, is this a castle?"

Lily’s wide blue eyes were pressed against the window of the massive black SUV that had picked us up exactly at 1:00 PM. I looked out at the towering iron gates of the Fierro estate in Chicago's exclusive Gold Coast neighborhood. The gates swung open silently, revealing a sprawling limestone mansion surrounded by perfectly manicured hedges and stone fountains.

"It’s just a big house, sweetie," I said, smoothing down her hair. She was wearing her favorite burgundy thrift-store dress, her little arms hugging a worn teddy bear.

I hadn't slept at all the night before. I had stayed up talking to Camila, who had nearly fainted when I told her about Giovanni Fierro. “Jess, he’s dangerous,” she had warned. “But Tyler is a snake who will try to take Lily if he ever gets rich enough with Vanessa’s family money. Take the billionaire’s protection.”

In the end, it was the thought of Lily’s future that made me dial the number on the golden card.

The SUV came to a halt in front of the grand entrance. The door was opened by a man in a crisp suit—Marco, Giovanni’s head of personal security. He gave me a respectful nod. "Welcome, Mrs. Fierro. The boss is waiting inside."

Hearing myself called Mrs. Fierro sent a shiver down my spine.

We walked into a breathtaking two-story foyer with marble floors and a winding grand staircase. Standing at the top of the stairs, looking down at us like a king surveying his court, was Giovanni. He had traded his tuxedo for a tailored charcoal suit, looking every bit the formidable billionaire.

As he walked down the stairs, his footsteps echoing in the vast space, Lily instinctively hid behind my legs, clutching my skirt.

Giovanni stopped a few feet away. He looked at me first, acknowledging my anxiety with a brief nod, before his gaze dropped to my daughter. To my surprise, he went down on one knee, bringing himself to eye level with her.

"You must be Lily," he said, his tough voice softening into a gentle, quiet tone.

Lily peeked out from behind my knee. "Are you the prince?"

A genuine laugh escaped Giovanni, a deep, rich sound that seemed to warm the cold marble room. "No, corporate lawyers tell me I’m definitely not a prince. But I am the man who owns this house. And while you're here, anything you want is yours."

"Can I have a slice of chocolate cake?" she asked immediately. "Mommy promised me cake from the wedding, but she forgot."

I flushed with embarrassment. "Lily, shh—"

"You shall have the biggest slice of chocolate cake the chef can make," Giovanni interrupted, standing up and looking at Marco. "Have chef prepare a selection of sweets and bring them to the sunroom."

"Yes, Mr. Fierro," Marco replied, taking our modest suitcases and disappearing down a hallway.

Giovanni turned back to me, his amber eyes locked onto mine. "You look tired, Jessica."

"I didn't sleep much," I admitted honestly. "This still feels like a dream. Or a nightmare, depending on how your aunt reacts."

"Francesca has already filed a request with her lawyers to verify our marriage certificate," Giovanni said calmly, gesturing for me to follow him into a spacious, sunlit living room. "By tonight, the legal records in Cozumel will show we’ve been married for four months. She won't find a single flaw."

"And what about my job? My life?"

"You will take a leave of absence from the hospital. We will claim you are focusing on transitioning Lily into her new life here. As for your life... it is here now. Come, let me show you your quarters."

He led us up the grand staircase to the east wing of the mansion. He opened a set of double doors to reveal a stunning suite of rooms. There was a private living area, a massive master bedroom with a king-sized bed draped in silk sheets, and an adjoining bedroom designed perfectly for a five-year-old, complete with a canopy bed and shelves filled with brand-new toys and books.

Lily squealed with delight and immediately ran into her new room, dropping her teddy bear onto the bed.

"Giovanni... this is too much," I whispered, looking at the luxury surrounding us. "She's going to get spoiled."

"She’s a child who has had to compromise for too long," Giovanni said quietly, standing close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from him. "There is no harm in giving her comfort."

He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a sleek black credit card, placing it in my hand. "This is linked to my primary account. No limit. Tomorrow, a personal stylist will arrive to replace your wardrobe. You are the wife of Giovanni Fierro now, Jessica. You must look the part."

I looked down at the card, then up at him. "You're trying to buy my cooperation."

"I've already bought your cooperation," he reminded me, his eyes flashing with a sudden, sharp intensity. "Now I am ensuring your survival. Tomorrow night is the annual Founders' Gala. The entire Chicago high society will be there. Including your ex-husband's new in-laws. And my aunt."

He stepped closer, his thumb gently brushing against the side of my jaw, a gesture so unexpectedly tender it took my breath away. "We need to look completely, hopelessly in love, Jessica. Do you think you can handle that?"