"The Bridesmaids Cut Her Dress Open—Until the Mafia Boss Covered Her With His Coat

The black Rolls-Royce Phantom glided silently through the rain-slicked streets of Manhattan, its engine barely a whisper against the storm raging outside.

Inside the rear passenger cabin, privacy glass separated them from the driver. The interior smelled of fine Italian leather and fresh rain.

Emma sat huddled in the corner of the leather seat, still wrapped in Dante’s coat. Her fingers clutched the lapels tightly. The initial adrenaline that had carried her out of the cathedral was wearing off, leaving her body trembling with exhaustion and shock.

Dante sat beside her, his long legs crossed, looking out the tinted window at the passing city lights. He hadn't touched her since guiding her into the car. He gave her space, treating her not like a victim, but like something precious that needed time to heal.

"You don't have to go back to your apartment tonight," Dante said quietly, his gaze remaining fixed on the rain-streaked glass. "My estate in Riverdale has six guest suites. My housekeeper, Mrs. Gable, has already prepared the master guest wing."

Emma looked at him, her voice hoarse. "Why did you come today, Dante?"

Dante slowly turned his head to look at her. In the dim light of the cabin, his dark eyes held a dangerous, unreadable depth.

"Your father, Thomas Vance, was an honorable man," Dante said smoothly. "Ten years ago, when the city tried to seize my family's shipping docks in Brooklyn using corrupt eminent domain filings, your father refused to sign the judge's order. He stood up to the Mayor's office when every other lawyer in New York was taking bribes."

Emma remembered. She had been twenty-two then, sitting in her father's study while he worked late into the night, refusing to compromise his integrity.

"My father respected you," Emma whispered.

"The feeling was mutual," Dante replied softly. "Before Thomas died six months ago, he called me to his office. He told me he was worried about the Hayes family. He knew Arthur Hayes was a shark, and he knew Nathan was a leech."

Emma’s heart slammed against her ribs. "My father called you?"

"He asked me to watch over you from a distance," Dante said, his dark voice dropping into a solemn register. "I gave him my word. Today, I fulfilled it."

"He didn't ask you to rescue me from my own wedding," Emma noted, tears threatening to spill over her lashes again.

"He asked me to protect you," Dante corrected cleanly. "And watching a wolf pack tear a innocent girl's dress off her back in a church is not something I permit in my city."

The Rolls-Royce turned off the highway, passing through massive wrought-iron gates that opened automatically into a private, heavily wooded estate overlooking the Hudson River.

The car stopped in front of a sprawling limestone mansion built in the classic European style. Terraces stepped down toward the dark, churning river, lit by soft warm lanterns along the stone pathways.

The driver opened the door. Dante stepped out first, holding an umbrella over the door frame as he offered his hand to Emma once again.

Emma stepped out, wrapping his heavy coat tighter around herself.

A warm, dignified woman in her fifties stood in the grand marble entryway holding a plush grey cashmere robe and a tray of hot tea.

"Welcome home, Ms. Vance," Mrs. Gable said gently, offering a warm, compassionate smile. "Your room is ready upstairs. The bath is drawn, and I’ve placed fresh clothes in the dressing room."

Emma looked from Mrs. Gable to Dante, who stood under the grand chandelier in the foyer, his dark hair damp from the rain, his expression calm and unbothered.