Chapter 1 - The Champagne Silk Gown and the Christmas Eve DeceptionThe air inside my tiny Brooklyn apartment smelled of cold coffee and lingering anxiety about the upcoming month's bills. When my phone lit up at precisely six o'clock with Luca Moretti’s private caller ID, my heart did its usual erratic flutter—the same reaction it had produced every single day for the past three years.
"Come home with me tonight—as my girlfriend."
I stared into the screen, certain I had momentarily lost my mind. But when Luca’s deep, commanding voice came through the receiver, explaining that his traditional family expected him to present his future wife at their annual Westchester Christmas Eve dinner, the surreal reality settled over me. My boss wasn't joking. And somehow, out of all the socialites, models, and high-powered executives in Manhattan, he had chosen me.
My name is Emma Hayes. For three long years, I had worked as Luca Moretti’s executive assistant. I managed his impossible, minute-by-minute schedule, negotiated fierce real estate contracts with stubborn developers, handled highly confidential documents, and occasionally played the role of his mother, reminding a billionaire who forgot to eat that human beings actually required food and sleep.
Pretending to be his romantic partner? That definitely wasn't outlined in my job description.
Luca Moretti was thirty-six years old, devastatingly handsome, and terrifyingly controlled. His family's massive fortune was anchored in legitimate real estate holdings, shipping conglomerates, and venture capital, though dark whispers routinely echoed through Manhattan boardrooms about the older, bloodier syndicate empire his father had left behind. Nobody ever openly called him a mafia boss to his face. Nobody needed to. Men twice his age instinctively lowered their voices and straightened their ties when Luca walked into a room.
And now, the most untouchable man in the city stood in my office foyer, asking me to accompany him into the lion's den of his family's holiday celebration.
"Why me?" I finally whispered into the receiver.
"Because I trust you."
"That's not exactly romantic, Luca."
His mouth had almost curved into a rare smile on the other end of the line. "Would you prefer I lied?"
I crossed my arms, staring at my reflection in the window. "Your family knows I'm your assistant. They'll never believe we're dating."
"They will if I tell them we are."
"And what happens when Christmas is over?" I pressed, my chest tightening.
Silence stretched over the line for a long, heavy beat. Something unreadable crossed his usually impenetrable face. "We'll discuss that afterward."
I should have refused. I should have slammed the phone down, cited my employment contract, and stayed home with a mug of hot cocoa and a rented movie. Instead, my racing brain calculated my severely overdue rent, my mother’s mounting medical prescriptions, and the generous Christmas bonus I desperately needed to survive January.
"Is this a strictly business arrangement?" I asked, my voice guarded.
"If that's what makes you comfortable."
"And I can say no?"
"Of course."
That surprised me more than his sudden invitation. There was no coercion in his tone—just an open door.
After a long internal debate, I agreed.
Two hours later, a sleek black luxury sedan delivered me to an exclusive Manhattan boutique where an elegant stylist named Sienna was waiting with an expression of professional reverence. She unveiled a breathtaking champagne-colored silk gown featuring delicate straps, a daring low back, and a skirt that pooled like liquid gold around her feet.
"Mr. Moretti chose this himself," she explained with an admiring smile.
I stared at the dress in stunned silence. Luca noticed every tiny detail about corporate mergers and profit margins. Apparently, over the last three years, he had noticed far more about me than I ever realized.
At seven-thirty, his driver brought me up the winding, snow-draped driveway of the Moretti family estate in Westchester. The sprawling stone mansion was illuminated by thousands of golden Christmas lights, and the circular drive was packed with foreign luxury cars.
Luca waited near the grand double doors, wearing an immaculate, custom-tailored black tuxedo that highlighted his broad shoulders and commanding height. When I stepped out of the car, he stopped moving entirely. For several seconds, under the falling snow, he simply stared at me.
"Is something wrong with the dress?" I asked nervously, smoothing the silk over my hips.
"No," he murmured, stepping forward to offer his hand. His dark eyes had softened in a way I had never witnessed at the office. "Nothing at all."
As we walked inside, crystal chandeliers glittered above a ballroom filled with hundred of elite guests dressed in designer evening wear. The moment we crossed the threshold, scattered conversations began to fade into curious murmurs. Luca’s warm hand settled firmly against the bare skin of my lower back.
"Stay close," he instructed quietly.
"That's reassuring," I whispered back.
Then, an older woman adorned in breathtaking emerald and diamond jewelry approached us with the sharp, assessing gaze of a queen inspecting her court. His grandmother.
She looked me up and down before turning her piercing eyes to Luca. "So this is the mysterious woman you've been hiding from us all year."
My stomach plummeted into my shoes.
Luca didn't hesitate for a single microsecond. "Yes, Nonna."
She narrowed her eyes, looking between us. "And are your intentions serious?"
I fully expected him to laugh off the question, change the subject, or invent another convenient corporate excuse. Instead, his hand tightened on my waist, pulling me fractionally closer against his side.
"Very serious," he replied, his voice ringing with absolute conviction.
Across the ballroom, a stunning blonde woman in a striking red evening gown suddenly stopped laughing with a group of investors, her gaze locking onto us with pure venom. Luca noticed her presence, but his attention didn't waver for even a fraction of a second; his dark eyes remained entirely fixed on me.
His grandmother tilted her head. "Then tell me something, Luca. Is this another one of your business arrangements?"
The entire ballroom seemed to hold its collective breath.
I felt the warmth of his fingers wrapping securely around mine. "No," he answered quietly, the word dropping into the silence like a falling stone.
May you like
Then he turned his head to look directly down into my eyes, his expression carrying an intensity I had never seen in three years of working for him. "Emma is the only woman I would ever choose."
My breath caught in my throat. Because the truly terrifying part wasn't how convincingly my billionaire boss had just played his part. It was the sudden, dizzying realization that for the first time all evening, I couldn't tell whether he was pretending at all.
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