She Called Me Her Groom's Mistress. Then I Repossessed Their Wedding Gift

At the end of the year, I turned down a lucrative contract to work backstage at an exclusive fashion show in Milan and flew back to New York for one reason: to do the bridal makeup for my brother's new wife before their wedding joined our family to another powerful Mafia house.

But the moment I arrived at the estate, my future sister-in-law looked me over and casually asked if I was still a virgin.

My eyes dropped to her visibly pregnant belly.

Assuming she was worried I might mock her for carrying my brother's child before the wedding vows were even exchanged, I answered without embarrassment.

"No."

Her expression changed instantly.

Before I could react, she swept every makeup product from the vanity onto the marble floor.

Lipsticks, palettes, brushes, and glass bottles scattered at my feet.

"Do you have any idea what today is?" she snapped. "This is my wedding day. How dare a filthy woman like you put your hands on me?"

I stared at her.

She pointed toward the door, her face twisted with disgust.

"Go find me someone pure to do my makeup. I won't have a woman like you bringing bad luck into my marriage. If something goes wrong with this wedding because of you, your brother won't forgive you."

Then she glanced down at the cosmetics scattered across the floor.

"And take all that trash with you. I don't want anything that's been used by someone as unclean as you."

My gaze slowly returned to her swollen belly.

For several seconds, I genuinely couldn't understand how a woman carrying my brother's child before she'd even taken his name could stand there and lecture me about purity.

But I didn't argue.

I crouched down and calmly gathered my makeup products one by one.

Then I stepped into the corridor, pulled out my phone, and called my brother.

He answered almost immediately.

"What is it?"

"Your bride thinks I'm filthy," I said calmly. "So I won't be doing her makeup."

There was a brief silence on the other end.

Before he could respond, I continued.

"And tell your men to leave the Maserati where it is."

My voice remained perfectly even.

"I'm taking it back."

"That was your wedding gift," he said sharply.

"I know."

I glanced through the tall windows toward the black Maserati parked in the courtyard, the one I'd personally bought for him when he became a capo.

"But apparently everything that comes from me carries bad luck."

I picked up my makeup case.

"So I'm sure your bride won't want the car either."

My words clearly rattled my brother.

"There must be some misunderstanding. Eliza, she..."

Before he could finish, Eliza snatched the phone from my hand and hurled it onto the marble floor.

"Who gave you permission to make calls in my dressing room?"

She glared at me with open disgust.

"What? Planning to summon all those men you've slept with to come defend you?"

Her voice rose sharply.

"My wedding was supposed to be perfect. You've ruined everything!"

The commotion drew several bridesmaids into the room. The moment they saw the shattered phone and makeup scattered across the floor, they stopped short.

Eliza immediately pointed at me.

"Who arranged this? Whose brilliant idea was it to let an unchaste woman do my bridal makeup?"

She looked at the cosmetics around my feet as if they were contaminated.

"Disgusting. Nothing but bad luck."

The bridesmaids quickly understood which side they were expected to take.

One of them wrinkled her nose.

"No wonder something smelled wrong when I walked in. Turns out there was a whore in the room."

Another looked me up and down.

"Why are you still standing here? Get out."

"Exactly. Eliza is the Campbell Family's long-lost daughter. They only just brought her back, and since then, the Campbells have secured new territory, new routes, and more business than they've had in years."

She gave me a contemptuous smile.

"Cross her, and you won't last long in New York."

I quietly bent down and picked up my phone, a cold smile touching my lips.

The Campbell Family?

They really thought their sudden rise was because of Eliza?

The only reason their organization had expanded so quickly was because I'd learned ahead of time that my brother intended to marry a Campbell.

For his sake, I'd called in several favors overseas, opened a few European channels to the Campbells, and made sure certain people stopped standing in their way.

I had simply never expected Eliza to mistake borrowed influence for her own power.

She had no idea that if I could open those doors for the Campbell Family, I could close them just as easily.

I picked up a shattered palette from the floor and looked at her.

"Instead of worrying about my private life, you should start thinking about how you're going to compensate me for this."

Every product scattered across the marble had come from private luxury collections, custom houses, or professional lines unavailable to the public.

Together, they were worth well over a million dollars.

Eliza stared at me for a second before bursting into mocking laughter.

"There it is. A gold digger will always be a gold digger."

She folded her arms.

"The second everyone finds out you're not some innocent little virgin, you start demanding money?"

Her bridesmaids immediately joined in.

"Look at this garbage. I've never even heard of half these brands."

"Probably cheap knockoffs with fancy labels."

"Thank God Eliza caught it before that stuff touched her face. Imagine what it could've done to her skin."

Another woman kicked one of the broken compacts farther across the floor.

"And who knows what kind of diseases a woman like her carries? I wouldn't touch anything she's used."

I ignored them.

Instead, I calmly took out my phone and photographed every damaged case, shattered bottle, and ruined palette.

More than a million dollars in losses.

Even among Mafia families, destroying property of that value wasn't something that could simply be laughed away. There were rules for debts like this, and people far more dangerous than Eliza who enforced them.

"What?"

Eliza's smile widened when I didn't respond.

"Nothing to say now?"

Eliza kicked at the hem of my dress.

"Dressed like that, and you expect me to believe you're just a makeup artist? Don't tell me you use bridal appointments as an excuse to get close to other women's husbands."

My hand stopped over my makeup case.

For a moment, I wondered if I'd heard her correctly.

Outside this estate, I was the heiress to one of the most powerful Mafia families in Europe, and the legitimate beauty empire under my name was worth billions. I was also one of the most sought-after makeup artists in the fashion world.

Actresses, heiresses, and the wives of powerful men waited months for an appointment with me.

I had turned down Milan Fashion Week and flown back to New York to do Eliza's bridal makeup for one reason only.

She was marrying Maverick.

And now she was insulting my profession to my face.

When Eliza opened her mouth again, I finally looked up.

"You're pregnant before the wedding, yet you're obsessed with whether I'm a virgin?"

A laugh escaped me.

"Seriously? You?"

I glanced pointedly at her belly.

"And you have the nerve to call me dirty?"

Eliza clearly hadn't expected me to fight back. Her face flushed red.

"The baby I'm carrying is Maverick's! How is that the same thing?"

She instinctively covered her stomach.

"I gave my first time to the man I'm marrying today. That makes me clean."

Her eyes narrowed.

"But you? You showed up on my wedding day looking like this, carrying a case full of cheap makeup. What are you really here for?"

Before I could answer, my phone lit up.

Maverick was calling me on WhatsApp.

The instant Eliza saw his name and photo on my screen, her expression changed.

Then she lunged at me and grabbed my hair.

"So I was right!"

Pain shot across my scalp.

"You are trying to seduce my husband!"

"That's why you came here, isn't it?"

Her fingers tightened in my hair.

"I knew it. Women like you are all the same. You sleep around, then go after other women's men!"

She was nearly screaming now.

"Do you have any idea how many women want Maverick? You're just another one of them!"

Suddenly, everything made sense.

So this was never really about purity.

Eliza was jealous.

She had decided I was a threat the moment I walked through the door, and all that talk about being "unclean" was nothing more than an excuse to humiliate me.

The bridesmaids immediately rushed forward.

Two of them seized my arms, pinning me between them.

"Now it makes sense."

"She probably wanted to ruin Eliza's face with that cheap makeup, then make a move on the groom herself."

I tried to pull free, but their grip tightened.

For the first time, real panic flickered through me.

My hands were my career.

They couldn't be injured.

"Maverick is my brother," I said quickly. "If you don't believe me, call him and ask."

Eliza stared at me before letting out a contemptuous laugh.

"Your brother?"

She leaned closer.

"What kind of brother? The kind who pays your bills? Or the kind who shares your bed?"

Her spit nearly hit my face.

I instinctively turned away, but the women holding me wouldn't let me move.

Before I could say another word, Eliza raised her hand.

The slap landed hard across my face.

My head snapped to the side.

"I've been with Maverick long enough to know his family," she hissed. "He's never once told me he has a sister."

Her eyes swept over me with disgust.

"So stop playing the innocent victim. Whatever trick you're trying to pull on my husband, it won't work."

I went still.

She was right about one thing.

Maverick wasn't my biological brother.

He was my cousin.

His parents had been killed in a Family dispute when I was five. My parents took him in afterward, raised him under our roof, and treated him no differently from their own child.

To me, Maverick had always been my brother.

Years later, when my parents moved the center of our Family's operations overseas, Maverick chose to remain in New York.

He said he owed my parents everything and wanted to repay them by overseeing the Family's American territory and legitimate businesses.

I had never questioned it.

What I hadn't expected was that the woman he was about to marry didn't even know I existed.

Before I could think any further, Eliza's phone rang.

She glanced at the caller ID.

Her entire expression brightened.

Then she deliberately turned the screen toward me.

Maverick.

"My husband must've heard what you did to me."

Smug satisfaction filled her face.

"Looks like he's coming to deal with you himself."

She tapped the speaker button.

The instant the call connected, her vicious expression disappeared.

Her voice became sweet and soft.

"Baby, when are you getting here?"

She shot me a triumphant look.

"You won't believe what happened."

She paused dramatically.

"The makeup artist they sent me isn't even a virgin."

"You know my parents can't stand anything that brings bad luck," Eliza complained into the phone. "What am I supposed to do now?"

Maverick's voice immediately tightened.

"Where is she?"

Eliza shot me a sideways glance.

"She's still in my dressing room."

She rolled her eyes.

"She's nothing but a gold digger. She even tried to make me pay for that pile of cheap makeup she brought. Absolutely disgusting."

Before she could say anything else, Maverick cut her off.

"Don't touch her."

His voice was so sharp that even the women holding me went quiet.

"Stay exactly where you are. I'm coming right now."

The call ended.

Eliza stared at her phone for several seconds, clearly caught off guard.

Then one of the bridesmaids broke the silence.

"Maverick really does adore you. The second he heard something happened, he dropped everything to come."

"Exactly. The ceremony hasn't even started yet, and he's already rushing over personally."

"Eliza, you're so lucky."

The confusion on Eliza's face disappeared beneath their praise.

Her chin lifted again, smugness returning as though Maverick's urgency could only have been about her.

Then one of the bridesmaids glanced at the vanity.

"But what are you going to do about your makeup?"

Eliza paused.

Her eyes moved over the shattered cosmetics scattered across the marble floor before settling on me.

"You."

She pointed at the vanity.

"Do my makeup."

I stared at her.

"And when you're finished, you're going to pay me ten thousand dollars for ruining my wedding morning."

Her lips curved.

"On your knees."

I almost laughed from disbelief.

"You destroyed my makeup, insulted me, and now you want me to do your face for free?"

I met her gaze.

"Then kneel and pay you ten thousand dollars?"

My voice turned cold.

"No."

"You!"

Eliza shot to her feet.

"I'm giving you a chance to make this right, and you're still acting arrogant?"

One of her bridesmaids suddenly laughed.

"Eliza, I have a better idea."

There was something ugly in her smile.

"A perfect way to teach a woman like her a lesson and give everyone a little entertainment before the ceremony."

Before I could react, she snatched several cash envelopes from the wedding table and shoved them down the front of my dress.

The stiff corners scraped painfully against my skin.

I jerked backward, but the women beside me tightened their grip.

"What the hell are you doing?"

The bridesmaid stepped back, pleased with herself.

"When the groomsmen come upstairs later, we'll tell them there's a little wedding game."

She nodded toward me.

"They don't get into the bridal suite until they find every envelope."

Eliza's eyes lit up.

"That's perfect."

Another bridesmaid laughed.

"Hide some where they'll really have to search."

Eliza looked me over, her smile turning cruel.

"Maverick's crew is going to love this."

Blood rushed in my ears.

The moment I saw another woman reaching for the remaining envelopes, I started struggling.

"Stop!"

They only laughed.

"Touch me again and I'll have every one of you dragged in front of the Family council."

Eliza burst out laughing.

"The Family council?"

She folded her arms.

"Go ahead. Tell them whatever story you want. Who do you think they're going to believe? Maverick's bride, or some woman pretending to be his sister?"

She snapped her fingers.

"Hold her down."

They moved at once.

One woman seized my wrists while another grabbed my hair.

I fought as hard as I could, but there were too many of them.

They kept shoving the envelopes into my dress, ignoring every warning I gave them.

"Stop acting so offended."

"Please. A woman like you probably loves the attention."

Their laughter filled the room.

Humiliation burned through me, quickly turning into rage.

But the more I struggled, the more entertained they became.

Only after they'd hidden the last envelope beneath my clothes did they finally step away.

Then they twisted a bedsheet around my arms and secured me to one of the carved posts of the bridal bed.

Eliza calmly dusted off her hands.

Satisfied that I couldn't move, she returned to the vanity and sat down.

"Forget her."

She looked at her bridesmaids through the mirror.

"One of you can do my makeup."

Her smile returned.

"Whoever does the best job, I'll have Maverick give her a nice cash envelope after the wedding."

The bridesmaids exchanged excited looks.

Within seconds, they had forgotten all about me and crowded eagerly around Eliza's vanity.

Half an hour later, the bridesmaids finally finished Eliza's makeup.

The result was painfully overdone.

Her foundation sat thick on her skin, her false lashes nearly brushed her eyebrows, and the heavy blush made the entire look almost theatrical.

Eliza, however, admired herself from every angle in the mirror.

"Perfect. This is exactly how a woman of my status should look on her wedding day."

Suddenly, noise erupted downstairs.

Car doors slammed in the courtyard, followed by laughter and men's voices carrying through the estate.

Maverick's party had arrived.

I let out an unsteady breath.

Finally.

Maybe someone would get me out of here.

The bridesmaids hurried to the window.

"Eliza, they're here!"

Eliza's eyes immediately shifted to me.

The look she gave me sent a chill down my spine.

Then she smiled.

"Go keep Maverick downstairs."

She turned back toward the mirror.

"Send his crew up first. I think they deserve a little entertainment before the ceremony."

The bridesmaids exchanged knowing looks before hurrying out.

My stomach tightened.

What was she planning now?

It didn't take long for male voices to fill the upstairs hallway.

"Where's the bride?"

"Maverick's already downstairs waiting. How long are you planning to keep him from his own wedding?"

One of the bridesmaids stepped into their path.

"You want Eliza?"

Her smile widened.

"Then you have to pass one little challenge first."

Before I understood what was happening, she dragged me out of the dressing room and shoved me into the hallway.

Several of Maverick's young associates were standing there.

The moment they saw me, their attention sharpened.

"Who's she?"

"Another bridesmaid?"

One of them gave me an appreciative look.

"Not bad."

The bridesmaid beside me dug her fingers painfully into my arm while keeping a sweet smile on her face.

"The rules are simple."

She gestured toward me.

"We've hidden eighty-eight cash envelopes on her. Find every one, and we'll let you through to the bride."

She paused deliberately.

"Every single one."

The men looked at me.

"On her?"

Their eyes traveled over me, and my skin crawled.

My voice turned ice-cold.

"Touch me and you'll regret it."

For a moment, the hallway fell quiet.

Then Eliza called from inside the bridal suite.

"Don't let her scare you."

Her voice was light and playful.

"It's just a wedding game."

She laughed softly.

"If Maverick's men can't handle one little challenge, what kind of soldiers does he have working for him?"

That was enough.

The men exchanged amused looks.

"Well, we can't embarrass the boss."

"Sorry, sweetheart. Bride's rules."

Before I could step back, several hands reached for me.

My entire body locked up.

"Don't touch me!"

I twisted away and ran toward the stairs, but someone caught me around the waist and dragged me back.

"She's running."

A burst of laughter followed.

"Guess that's part of the game too."

I fought free for half a second, only for someone to catch my ankle.

I lost my balance and crashed onto the sofa in the hallway.

Laughter erupted around me.

Before I could get back up, several men closed in.

Panic hit me hard.

I clutched the front of my dress with both hands.

"Get off me!"

Across the hallway, the bridesmaids had already pulled out their phones.

They were filming.

"Come on! It's a wedding. Have some fun!"

"Don't be shy. She loves male attention."

The men began pulling the cash envelopes from my clothes.

Except it stopped feeling like a game almost immediately.

Hands lingered where they had no reason to linger.

Fingers brushed across places they had no right to touch.

Every time I tried to shove someone away, another man reached in.

I couldn't even tell how many times I'd been grabbed.

Humiliation burned through me.

Then came fear.

My throat tightened until breathing hurt.

Tears slipped down my face before I could stop them.

One of the men laughed.

"Why are you crying? It's just a game."

"Relax. Nobody's hurting you."

One of the bridesmaids gathered the envelopes they'd found and began counting them.

When she reached the end, she frowned dramatically.

"Eighty-seven."

She looked up.

"There's still one missing."

The hallway went quiet.