After Calling Off the Engagement, I Became My Ex-Fiancé’s Creditor

The air in the Parisian haute couture salon smelled like money and fear.

I’d waited six months for my wedding dress. Now, it was draped over the shoulders of Sofia Ross—the trending influencer, and my mafia fiancé Vincent Cassio’s god-sister.

The salon manager was sweating bullets, his eyes darting between me and the man lounging on the velvet sofa.

Vincent Cassio stood up. He adjusted a fold of the diamond-encrusted train on Sofia with a casual flick of his wrist. “Her premiere next week needs a statement piece. She’s borrowing it. Pick something off the rack and stop making a scene.”