Chapter 17

The car pulled up to the luxurious hotel, and Ivy's anxiety spiked. She had no idea what to expect, and Victor's cryptic messages hadn't helped. Liam's constant laughter hadn't eased her nerves either.

When they arrived, Victor was already standing outside, his eyes fixed intently on Ivy as she stepped out of the car. His gaze roamed over her body, taking in the revealing dress Liam had chosen for her.

"You wore this dress of your own free will?" Victor asked, his voice low and husky.

Ivy's confusion deepened. "What do you mean? You didn't give me a choice."

Victor's eyes narrowed. "Do you know what's going to happen here tonight?"

Ivy shook her head, feeling a sense of trepidation. "You invited me without telling me anything. I have no idea what's going on."

Liam appeared beside them, still chuckling to himself. But when he saw Victor's expression, his smile faltered, and he fell silent.

Ivy's eyes flashed with anger. "You gave me this dress deliberately, didn't you?" she accused Liam.

Liam's smile returned, but it was tinged with mischief. "Maybe," he said, his voice dripping with amusement.

Ivy's hands clenched into fists. "You will die by my hands," she hissed.

Victor stepped forward, his eyes glinting with warning. "Let's go inside and stick with me," he said, his voice firm.

Ivy was torn. Part of her wanted to rebel against Victor's control, but another part was scared of what might happen if she didn't comply.

With a deep breath, she nodded and followed Victor into the hotel lobby. Liam trailed behind them, his laughter silenced by Victor's stern expression.

As they entered the grand ballroom, Ivy's eyes widened in shock. The room was filled with powerful-looking men and women, all dressed in formal attire. She spotted her three brothers across the room, their faces stern and unyielding.

Ivy's heart sank. What had she gotten herself into?

Ivy's eyes widened in shock as she took in the scene before her. The grand ballroom was filled with men and women who exuded power and sophistication, their expensive suits and designer gowns a testament to their wealth and status.

"What is all this?" Ivy asked Victor, her voice barely above a whisper.

Victor's expression was unreadable. "A meeting of mafia leaders," he replied, his voice low and even.

Ivy's surprise turned to astonishment. She knew her brothers were involved in the mafia, but she had never expected to see them in a setting like this. Julian, Lucas, and Ethan—all three of them were here mingling with the other leaders as if they belonged.

She had always known her brothers were powerful, but she had never realized the extent of their involvement in the mafia. She knew what the mafia was, of course—who didn't? But her brothers had always kept her away from that world, shielding her from the dangers and complexities of their business dealings. After a traumatic accident when she was just a child, they had sent her away to another country for her safety, and she had only returned a few years ago, just in time to become engaged to Victor, the man who was supposed to be her family's sworn enemy.

But now, here she was, standing in a room filled with the very people her brothers worked with. It was surreal, like something out of a bad dream.

As she scanned the room, her eyes landed on her brothers, and she felt a mix of emotions. She was shocked, but also a little angry. Why had they kept this from her? Why had they never told her the truth about their business dealings?

Ivy felt a hand on her arm and turned to see Victor watching her; his eyes narrowed in concern.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice low.

Ivy shook her head, trying to clear the cobwebs. "I... I don't understand," she stammered.

Victor's expression turned grim. "You will," he said. "Soon enough."

Ivy's eyes flashed with anger. "Tell me now," she demanded.

But Victor just smiled, his eyes glinting with amusement. "All in good time," he said.

Victor's gaze drifted across the room, his eyes locking onto Ethan with an intensity that made Ivy's skin crawl. The Smith brothers, already wary of Victor, looked at him and Ivy with confused expressions, their eyes darting back and forth between the two.

Ivy's eyes, however, lit up when she spotted Julian, her brother, across the room. She instinctively moved towards him, her heart racing with excitement.

But before she could take more than a few steps, a strong hand clamped down on her waist, holding her back. Victor's grip was like a vice, his fingers digging into her skin as he pulled her close.

"You're my company today, not those Smith brothers," he growled, his breath hot against her ear.

Ivy's anger flared, and she tried to shake off his hand. "They're my brothers," she spat, trying to wriggle free.

Victor's grip only tightened. "And you're my fiancée," he reminded her, his voice dripping with possessiveness. "Try to do anything funny, and you'll regret it."

Ivy's eyes flashed with anger as she glared up at Victor. But when she turned to look at her brothers, she saw that they were all staring at her with concern etched on their faces. Ethan, in particular, caught her eye, and for a moment, Ivy thought she saw a glimmer of something there, a spark of recognition or maybe even love.

But then, Ethan's expression hardened, and he gave a curt nod to his brothers. Without another glance at Ivy, they turned and left the room, disappearing into the crowd.

Ivy felt a pang of hurt, a deep ache that spread through her chest. Ethan didn't care about her at all. He had made that clear.

Victor's grip on her waist tightened, as if he could sense her emotions. "Let's go," he said, his voice cold and detached. "We have business to attend to."

Ivy nodded numbly, feeling like a puppet on strings. She had no choice but to follow Victor and play the role of the dutiful fiancée. But inside, she was seething, her heart burning with anger and hurt.

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