Chapter 3 - The Ambush at the GalaThe news of the court motion threw a dark shadow over the estate, but it also forged an unshakeable bond between Serena and the household.
The four quadruplets, upon sensing that Serena was distressed, abandoned all efforts at chaos and transformed into her fiercely protective guardians. Marco spent the morning standing guard outside her bedroom door with a plastic sword; Alessandro tried to design a “lawyer trap” using rubber bands and heavy books; Nico repeatedly offered to slip butter onto her ex-husband’s shoes so he would fall down the courthouse stairs; and Tommaso simply sat quietly beside her, offering her his favorite stuffed bear.
However, the real storm was gathering outside the estate walls.
To counter the rumors circulating among the syndicate and to present a united front against his rivals, Vittorio was required to attend the annual Metropolitan Benefactors Gala—a high-society event attended by New York’s elite, corrupt politicians, and low-key mob figures masquerading as philanthropists.
Two days before the event, Vittorio walked into the sunroom where Serena was helping the boys with their reading.
“You’re coming with me on Saturday,” Vittorio stated simply.
Serena looked up from a picture book, bewildered. “To the Gala? Vittorio, I’m the nanny. I don't belong at a black-tie charity event.”
“You are not just the nanny,” Vittorio said, his voice leaving no room for argument. “The Morettis and my rivals think I am vulnerable because my household was in disarray. I need to show them that my estate is secure, my children are cared for, and the woman managing my home is untouchable. Besides... your ex-husband and his wealthy family will be attending. They sit on the museum’s board.”
Serena swallowed hard. The thought of confronting Richard and his arrogant family made her stomach twist, but the fierce fire in Vittorio’s eyes gave her a strange, intoxicating courage.
“I don't have a dress for something like that,” she murmured.
Vittorio smiled—a rare, devastatingly handsome smile that made Serena’s breath catch. “That has already been handled.”
The following evening, three large black boxes arrived from Paris. Inside was a breathtaking emerald-green silk gown, custom-tailored to Serena’s exact measurements, along with a velvet box containing a diamond necklace that looked like it belonged in a museum.
When Saturday evening arrived, Serena descended the grand staircase. The emerald dress clung to her curves in all the right places, flowing into a subtle train behind her. Her dark hair was pinned up in an elegant chignon, exposing the delicate line of her neck.
At the bottom of the stairs stood Vittorio, dressed in a sleek, dark charcoal tux that made him look like an ancient prince of dark royalty. Beside him stood the four boys, all cleaned up in miniature tuxedos with tiny black bow ties.
When Marco saw Serena, his mouth fell open. “Woah. Serena looks like a movie star.”
Nico crossed his arms. “She looks way better than Dad.”
Vittorio ignored his sons’ teasing, his eyes entirely captivated by Serena. He walked to the base of the stairs, extending his hand to her. As her gloved hand rested in his, he leaned down and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to the back of her knuckles.
“You are exquisite, Serena,” he murmured, his voice thick with unscripted admiration. “Tonight, no one touches you.”
An hour later, they arrived at the grand ballroom of the Plaza Hotel. The room was a shimmering sea of champagne glasses, crystal chandeliers, and orchestra music. As Vittorio entered with Serena on his arm, the atmosphere in the room visibly shifted. Whispers rippled through the crowd. Men in expensive suits bowed their heads in respectful fear; women adorned in pearls stared with burning curiosity at the unknown woman on the mafia kingpin’s arm.
Halfway through the evening, as Vittorio was engaged in a tense conversation with a local judge, Serena stepped toward the balcony to catch her breath.
“Well, well. Look how far the charity case has climbed.”
Serena froze. She turned around to see Richard standing there, a champagne glass in his hand, dressed in a tuxedo paid for by his family’s hedge fund. Beside him stood his mother, a cold, snobbish woman who had made Serena’s life a living hell during her marriage.
“Richard,” Serena said, keeping her head held high. “Mrs. Sterling.”
“I see you’ve traded up from poverty to blood money, Serena,” Richard sneered, stepping closer, his eyes scanning her dress with disgust. “Do you really think dressing up like a mobster’s whore is going to win you points with Judge Alvarez next week? When I present the evidence that you’re living with Vittorio Rinaldi, you won't even get supervised visitation with Lucia.”
“Watch your mouth, Richard,” Serena said, her voice shaking with quiet fury. “I am working an honest job, protecting and educating four motherless children. Something you wouldn't know anything about, considering you haven't paid child support in four months.”
Richard’s face flushed with anger. He stepped forward, grabbing Serena’s wrist tightly. “Listen to me, you pathetic little—”
Before he could finish the sentence, a hand like a steel vise clamped down on Richard’s wrist, squeezing with enough force to make the bone crack.
Richard gasped in agony, dropping his glass, which shattered on the marble floor.
Vittorio stepped out of the shadows, towering over Richard. His face was a mask of cold, terrifying vengeance.
“If you don't remove your hand from my guest in the next three seconds,” Vittorio whispered, his voice so quiet and dangerous that nearby guests backed away in horror, “I will have my men break every individual bone in your fingers, toss you out of that third-story window, and make sure your hedge fund dissolves before sunrise.”
Richard trembled, his face turning pale green as he released Serena immediately, pulling his aching hand to his chest. “R-Rinaldi... this is a legal matter! She’s my ex-wife!”
“She is under the protection of the Rinaldi family,” Vittorio stated, stepping in front of Serena like an impenetrable shield. “And as for your legal matter... I suggest you check your email. My attorneys just filed a counter-countersuit for tax evasion, fraud, and unpaid child support against your family’s firm. Have a wonderful evening, Mr. Sterling.”
Vittorio turned his back on the humiliated man, offering his arm to Serena. As they walked away, Serena felt a rush of pride and warmth she hadn't felt in years. For the first time in her life, someone was standing up for her—not out of duty, but out of fierce, uncompromising love.
However, as they exited the ballroom toward the private underground parking garage, the night took a terrifying turn.
The garage was dimly lit and eerily quiet. Vittorio’s personal security detail was walking ten paces ahead when suddenly, two black vans screeched around the corner, blocking the exits!
Armed men in tactical gear burst out of the vans, weapons raised.
“Vittorio! Down!” shouted his lead bodyguard, pulled into a sudden, chaotic firefight.
Gunfire echoed like thunder in the enclosed concrete space. Glass shattered, tires squealed, and muzzle flashes illuminated the dark garage.
Vittorio didn't hesitate for a single microsecond. He grabbed Serena, pulled her behind a heavy concrete pillar, and drew a sleek black pistol from his jacket. He shielded her entirely with his body, pressing her against the wall while firing three precise shots over his shoulder, dropping an advancing attacker.
Serena squeezed her eyes shut, clinging tightly to Vittorio’s suit jacket, her heart hammering wildly.
“Stay down!” Vittorio ordered, his breath hot against her ear. “It’s Moretti’s men! They’re making a play!”
A bullet struck the concrete pillar inches above their heads, showering them with dust. Vittorio leaned out, firing rapidly, driving the attackers back. But as he pulled back into cover, Serena heard a wet, sickening gasp.
She opened her eyes.
Vittorio was leaning against the pillar, his face pale. He looked down at his abdomen. Dark, crimson blood was rapidly soaking through his crisp white shirt and dark tuxedo vest.
“Vittorio!” Serena screamed in horror, clutching his waist as his heavy frame began to slide down the concrete wall.
“I’m... fine...” Vittorio gritted out through clenched teeth, his dark eyes blurring. “Get... get to the car, Serena...”
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“No! I’m not leaving you!” Serena cried out, pressing her gloved hands desperately against his wound to stop the gushing blood, red staining her green silk dress.
Through the smoke and echoes of gunfire, Serena saw another gunman advancing toward their pillar, raising an assault rifle directly at Vittorio’s exposed side.
