Too Late To Apologize, Mr. Billionaire

For seven years, I scrubbed floors, cooked books, and hid my identity as the Vitiello heiress just to test if Dante Moretti loved me for me, not my father’s power.

But the massive digital billboard in Times Square froze the blood in my veins.

It wasn’t my face next to his under the headline "The King and his new Queen." It was a cocktail waitress named Lola.

When I walked into the lobby to confront him, Lola slapped me across the face and crushed my late mother's locket under her stiletto heel.

Dante didn't defend me. He didn't even look sorry.

"You’re useful, like a stapler," he sneered, checking his watch.

"But a King needs a Queen, not a boring clerk. You can stay on as my mistress if you want to keep your job."

He thought I was a nobody. He thought he could use me to launder his money and then discard me like trash.

He didn't realize that the only reason he wasn't in federal prison was because I was protecting him.

I wiped the blood from my lip and pulled out a secure satellite phone.

Dante laughed. "Who are you calling? Your mommy?"

I stared him dead in the eyes as the line connected.

"The pact is void, Papa," I whispered. "Burn them all."

Ten minutes later, the glass doors shattered as my father’s military helicopters descended onto the street.

Dante fell to his knees, realizing too late that he hadn't just lost a secretary.

He had just declared war on the Capo dei Capi.

Chapter 1

I had spent the entire ride rehearsing the smile I’d give my fiancé after seven years of hiding in the shadows for him. But the massive digital billboard in Times Square didn't just stop me cold—it froze the blood in my veins.

It wasn’t my face next to his under the headline "The King and his new Queen."

And if I didn't kill the man I loved right this second, my father would burn this entire city to the ground just to do it for me.

The taxi driver tapped the steering wheel, oblivious to the fact that his passenger was currently calculating the logistics of a homicide.

"Big night for the Moretti family, huh?" he said, gesturing vaguely to the screen that lit up the night sky. "Dante Moretti is finally settling down. That girl, Lola? She looks like a movie star."

I stared at the screen.

Dante Moretti.

The man for whom I had scrubbed floors.

The man for whom I had cooked books.

The man I had loved in silence for seven agonizing years.

He was kissing a woman who was definitely not me.

The caption scrolled in bold, electric blue letters: A Union of Power. The Future Don and his First Lady.

My phone vibrated in my hand. It was a text from Dante.

*Baby, I’m so sorry I can’t pick you up. Family business is insane with the Gala prep. I’ll see you tomorrow at the office. Love you.*

He attached a fake itinerary.

I looked back at the billboard. He wasn't busy with business. He was busy showing the world his new toy.

I didn't cry.

Tears were for civilians. Tears were for women who didn't have the blood of the Vitiello crime syndicate running through their veins.

My father, Don Salvatore Vitiello, the Capo dei Capi—the man who made the FBI tremble—had warned me.

*He is weak, Seraphina. A weak man will always seek the easiest path. Give him seven years. If he loves the clerk, he deserves the Queen. If he fails... we bury him.*

He had failed.

I opened a secure app on my phone. My fingers didn't shake. Trembling was for victims.

I typed a message to my father’s Consigliere: Freeze the shadow accounts. Every cent we funnel into Moretti Holdings. Cut the line.

The reply was instantaneous: Done.

"Pull over," I told the driver.

"But miss, we're still a block away from—"

"Pull over."

I stepped out onto the sidewalk in front of Moretti Holdings. The building loomed over me, a glass and steel monument to money that wasn't theirs.

It was money I had secured. It was safety I had guaranteed.

I walked through the revolving doors.

The lobby was a cavern of white marble and gold trim. It smelled of expensive lilies and arrogance.

And there she was.

Lola.

She was standing near the reception desk, surrounded by a gaggle of girls who looked like they were auditioning for a reality show about bad decisions.

Lola was wearing a white dress that cost more than my car. She was laughing, her head thrown back, exposing a throat that looked very fragile.

"Dante said the announcement is just the beginning," Lola proclaimed, her voice echoing off the hard surfaces. "Once we make it official to the Five Families, I’m going to clean house."

Her friends giggled.

"What about the staff?" one asked. "That Director of Operations... what's her name? The one who always wears the gray suits?"

"Seraphina?" Lola sneered. "Oh, she's gone. Dante promised. He’s giving her office to Bella."

Bella, a girl with too much lip filler and not enough brain cells, squealed.

"Seriously? I get the corner office?"

"You get whatever you want," Lola said, checking her nails. "We are the royalty of New York now."

I walked forward. The clicking of my heels on the marble was a sharp, rhythmic warning they were too stupid to hear.

They turned.

Lola’s eyes narrowed. She recognized me instantly. I was the "boring secretary" she had seen fetching Dante’s coffee a dozen times.

"Well, speak of the devil," Lola said, her smile sharp enough to cut glass. "Here to collect your severance pay, Seraphina?"

I stopped three feet away from her.

"I'm here to collect a debt," I said calmly.

Bella stepped forward and shoved my shoulder. "You heard her. Get lost. This is a private event for the Family."

I didn't move. I didn't stumble.

I reached into my purse and pulled out my badge. It wasn't just an employee ID. It was the master key card for the entire building, a symbol of the control I exerted over every single operation in this company.

"I am the Head of Strategic Operations," I said. "And you are standing in my lobby."

Lola blinked, surprised for a microsecond. Then her face twisted into an ugly mask of rage.

"Not anymore," she hissed.