Bankrupting My Two-Faced CEO

My first night back at the Castello estate, my phone buzzed endlessly.

"Alessia, why aren't you replying? Are you still at the club?"

"I called them. You left? How did you manage that?"

"Where are you? Why are you ignoring me? Are you just playing disappearing games to make me worry?"

I ignored all of it.

By day two, his tone turned anxious: "You made your point. I didn't sleep all night."

"Where are you? Stop making me worry."

I only felt disgusted.

By day three, he sent a single text: "If you have any dignity left, don't ever show your face again."

I flipped my phone face down on the vanity and met my own gaze in the mirror, carefully drawing a razor-sharp wing with my eyeliner.

The signing ceremony was held in the penthouse banquet hall of Obsidian Group.

By the time I arrived, the red carpet was already packed with elites.

Julian, wearing a bespoke navy suit, stood in the center of the hall, laughing with some old Wall Street contacts.

Caroline clung to his arm in a burgundy gown, the diamond necklace on her chest catching the light blindly.

That necklace was the one Julian bought at an auction for an insane price. Back then, he told me it was a gift for me.

As I walked forward, Julian spotted me instantly. His eyes flashed with surprise, then darkened. He took a few quick steps and blocked my path.

"Alessia!" he hissed, lowering his voice. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm here for business, obviously," I said, looking straight ahead, ready to walk past him.

"Are you here to sabotage my signing?" He grabbed my arm, his face turning ugly.

Caroline hurried over, feigning concern. "Alessia, I know you're still mad about the other night, but this really isn't the place for a tantrum. This is too important for Julian..."

Julian’s frown deepened. He raised a hand and signaled two bodyguards over. "Please escort this lady out."

Two massive men immediately surrounded me.

I didn't move. "Back off. I am a Castello."

A low ripple of laughter spread through the crowd around us.

Julian raised an eyebrow. "The Castello family? Alessia, you wrote a pretty good script today."

Caroline covered her mouth and giggled. "Alessia, if you're going to lie, at least make it believable. The Castello family? You?"

"I'm telling the truth," I said coldly. "My father is Victor Castello."

Julian's smirk grew wider. He stepped closer and pinched my chin.

"Then should I call you 'Princess'?" His thumb brushed across my lips. "Be good. Go home. Once tonight is over, I'll make it up to you in private."

I jerked my head away, shaking off his hand, and reached into my coat pocket to pull out the Castello crest as proof.

"She's got a gun!"

Caroline suddenly screamed, throwing herself into Julian's arms.

Before I could react, a heavy hand clamped down on the back of my neck.

As I was shoved violently to the ground, my forehead smashed against the marble edge of a table.

Blood instantly ran down my temple, dripping onto the pristine white tiles.

A wave of agonizing pain hit me, followed by intense dizziness.

Through my blurred vision, I saw Julian instinctively shielding Caroline behind him, patting her gently and whispering, "Don't be scared, I've got you..."

In that moment, I honestly couldn't tell what hurt more—my shattered head, or the final, dying shred of my feelings for him.

Seeing me covered in blood, a flash of hesitation crossed Julian's eyes.

But it only lasted a second.

He frowned, looking down at me from his high horse, his voice dripping with disappointment.

"Alessia, look at what you've reduced yourself to."

He sighed, waving dismissively at the whispering crowd. "Apologies for the scene, everyone. She's my former assistant. She's... mentally unstable."

Knowing chuckles echoed around the room.

Hiding behind him, Caroline shot me a sideways glance, the corners of her mouth curling into a smirk.

I didn't speak. The pounding in my head made it impossible to form a word.

The bodyguard’s knee dug into my back as his free hand roughly patted me down.

"Where's the gun?" Julian asked coldly.

The guard's hand paused in my coat pocket.

He pulled something out and held it up.

It wasn't a gun.

It was a heavy metal crest, stamped with the Castello family emblem: a black eagle spreading its wings.

The smile froze on Julian's face.

Caroline reacted instantly, shrieking, "It has to be a fake!"

She placed a hand on Julian's chest, looking at him with deep concern. "Julian, you can't let her trick you. You know how dangerous the Castello family is. If they find out someone is using a fake crest here, you'll be dragged down with her."

She turned to me, her voice dripping with fake pity.

"Alessia, drop the act. You're going to get yourself killed playing these games."

Julian looked at me, his eyes shifting from conflicted to absolute resolve.

He glanced around at the industry elites waiting for a show, cleared his throat, and raised his voice, loud and cold.

"Ladies and gentlemen, my apologies for the disturbance."

He looked down at me bleeding on the floor, staring at me like I was nothing but a stranger.

"I have absolutely no relationship with this woman. She is merely an assistant I fired half a month ago for gross incompetence. She's been stalking me ever since."

I stared at him.

Five years.

The man who slept beside me for five years had become a complete monster.

He crouched down, close enough that I could smell the familiar cedarwood cologne on his suit—the one I had given him for his birthday.

He kept his voice so low that only I could hear.

"Alessia, I'm just playing along for the crowd. Who told you to take it this far tonight?"

"Go back to the office. I promise, you'll be my wife in the end. We just need to wait a little longer. Stop throwing these childish tantrums for my attention, good girl."

Wait a little longer?

What, until Noah turns eighteen?

I looked at him. The blood was running into my eye, stinging sharply.

I smiled. "Julian."

"Yeah?" He leaned in closer.

"You're going to regret this."

"You're going to regret what you did to me today."

Julian's face went ice-cold.

He stood up straight, adjusted his cufflinks, and waved at the guards.

"Drag her out. Don't let her embarrass me here anymore."

A guard yanked my wrists behind my back.

Another practically grabbed me by the hair, dragging me toward the exit.

My knees scraped against the marble, ripping a long slit up my dress.

The crowd parted like the Red Sea to let us through.

I heard the clinking of champagne glasses, the whispered sneers, and Caroline's intentionally loud voice: "Ugh, her blood is getting on the carpet. So gross."

I was dragged all the way to the entrance.

The guard let go, ready to physically toss me out into the street.

Right at that moment, the double doors burst open.

BANG!

Every single pair of eyes in the room snapped toward the entrance.

It was Victor Castello. My father. The Don who made the entire North American underworld hold its breath.