Everyone Watched His Fiancée Slap the Disabled Mafia Boss — But the Nurse Who Stopped Her Had Already Found the Secret Meant to Destroy Him

The slap cracked across the marble foyer so sharply that the pianist in the ballroom stopped playing. For one stunned second, nobody moved.

Nico Alfieri sat on the floor beside his overturned wheelchair, one palm pressed against the cold marble, the other locked around a console table to keep himself upright. Thirty-four years old, eight months removed from the crash that had taken the use of his legs, still dressed in the white shirt and black trousers he had worn through three exhausting hours of an engagement party thrown in his own home.

Thirty guests stood within sight of him. Three men had spent half their lives calling him boss. Two security guards stood close enough to hear his breathing. Not one stepped forward.

Above him stood Camille Ashcroft, the woman he was supposed to marry in seventeen days. Her jeweled hand was already rising again.

“You embarrassed me,” she hissed.