Dark Mafia Bride: An Arranged Marriage, Secret Baby Romance (Mafia Vows)
Dark Mafia Bride: Chapter 11

The low rumble of a car engine outside my bedroom window pulls me from sleep. I groan, sitting up in bed, still foggy and tired. Why are nights so short? Why can’t I just sleep as long as I want? I rub my eyes, adjusting to the soft morning light filtering through the curtains. Peeling back the worn fabric, I frown as I spot a sleek black sedan parked right outside my house.

What in the fuck is a black sedan doing in front of my house?

Cars like that don’t belong in this neighborhood, so it can only mean a few things, none of them good. Has Abruzzi sent his men here? It’s his style to play dirty, especially now that he’s realized his hold on me is slipping, all thanks to my supposedly invincible and terrifying husband-to-be.

The second thought that hits me—they’re here for me.

My throat tightens as two men step out of the car dressed in black suits, looking as rigid as stone. They step away from the car and head toward my front door, and that’s when I recognize Luca trailing behind them, walking with his usual measured steps.

Why the hell are they here so early? I glance at the clock on my wall—6:14 am. My heart pounds as I push off the blanket, scrambling out of my room just as the first heavy knock shakes the front door. Panic surges through me, knotting in my throat.

They’ve come to take us—me and my family—and I haven’t told anyone a thing. How am I supposed to explain that I’m getting married to a man I don’t even know? I knew I’d have to do it eventually, but not today. When Luca mentioned we’d need to move into my “husband’s” house, I didn’t expect them to show up at 6:14 in the freaking morning.

Taking a shaky breath, I reach the door and crack it open. Two men in black suits stare back at me, tall and as stiff as soldiers. The one with dark hair and a thick beard speaks first.

“Miss Ricci?”

I clear my throat. “Yes?”

“We’re here to escort you and your family to your new home,” he says simply.

My throat goes dry. I’d hoped to have more time to break this insane news to my family. There’s no way I’m dragging them out to some unknown place with these three intimidating men without even a warning. I slip outside, carefully closing the door behind me.

“I…I haven’t told my family yet,” I stammer, my voice shaky. “You’ll need to leave. I’ll…uh…get them ready, and we’ll come later.”

Luca, who has been standing back, steps forward. “We have strict instructions to bring you and your family with us. Today,” he says in that familiar monotone voice.

I scoff, crossing my arms over my chest. “Tell your boss he can’t just expect me to uproot my family in a flash.” My voice is firm, but inside I’m panicking.

Luca doesn’t even blink. I let out a soft groan, glancing back inside to make sure everyone’s still asleep.

“Look,” I sigh, “I know I signed the contract and all, but I need a little more time to explain this…situation to them.”

“We have orders not to return without you and your family,” Luca repeats, sounding like a broken record.

I’m about to throw another snappy response his way when I hear soft footsteps behind me.

“Mirabella? Who are you talking to?” Giulia’s sleepy voice floats down the hall. I turn just in time to see her standing there, rubbing her eyes and looking annoyed, like she’s mad her sleep got cut short. Nonna isn’t far behind her, tightening her robe as she watches the scene with growing curiosity in her eyes as she pulls her robe tighter around herself.

Dammit.

I don’t have a choice now.

I shoot Luca and his men a quick glare before muttering, “Wait here.” My heart races as I close the door and turn to face my family.

“Who were those men? Mira, I hope you haven’t gotten yourself into trouble,” Nonna says, eyeing me with suspicion.

“I…need to talk to you both,” I mutter, leading them into the small living room. I catch Nonna sneaking a glance at the men through the window.

“Is Mom awake? She should probably hear this, too,” I sigh, bracing myself as they settle around the kitchen table.

“She’s still asleep. Should I wake her?” Giulia asks.

I shake my head, remembering how hard it was for her to drift off even with all the pain meds last night. Nonna and Giulia sit at the tiny kitchen table, their eyes wide with worry and anticipation. My heart feels like it’s going to beat out of my chest as I search for the right words.

“So…I’m getting married,” I finally blurt out. Nonna’s eyebrows shoot up while Giulia just blinks with her mouth open, too shocked to say anything.

The longer they stay without saying anything, the more scared I get.

An exhale leaves my lips. “Please say something.”

“Madonna mia, Mirabella Ricci.” Nonna calls my full name softly. “Tell me this is some kind of joke.”

“It’s not, Nonna.”

Her eyes search mine for any sign that I’m playing, but there’s nothing there. The pause that follows feels like an eternity. She lets out a heavy sigh, crossing her arms over her chest. “Marriage, bambina, it is not like picking out a dress or a flavor of gelato. It is for life, eh? How do you decide something like this so…so fast?”

“I thought about it, Nonna. It wasn’t something I did on a whim.”

“Oh, really?” Her eyes narrow, suspicious. “And this man, who is he?”

I hesitate, and the words catch in my throat. “I…haven’t met him yet.”

Nonna’s mouth parts in shock. Giulia looks at me as if I’ve completely lost it.

“It’s a…beneficial arrangement,” I mutter, twisting my hands together nervously. I can barely bring myself to meet their eyes. “He’ll help us with the debt… and pay for Mom’s treatments and surgery. And in return, I have to marry him.”

Giulia’s head drops, and Nonna’s eyes glisten as tears well up. Quickly, I reach over and take her hand.

“What about Giulia?” My voice cracks as I look at my sister. “Very soon you’ll be applying to different universities. The fact that it’s still a couple of years away doesn’t mean we shouldn’t prepare. I’ll have more than enough to send you anywhere you want—abroad even. You can be anyone you want to be.”

Giulia lifts her gaze to me, a small frown tugging at her lips. “But I don’t want any of that at the expense of your happiness, Mirabella. I won’t be happy if you’re miserable.”

I clench my jaw, trying to keep the tears at bay. “You’ll be even more unhappy if you don’t get to live the life I never had. I’ll be damned before I let you drop out like I did.”

I glance back at Nonna, my hand trembling as I gently rub the side of her face. Her tears have already begun to fall, and I can’t stand seeing her like this.

“It’s okay, Nonna. He’s…he’s a good man.” I try to sound convincing, though I’m not even sure myself. I’ve heard enough from Gio and Abruzzi about my fiancé to know he’s nothing like the nice guy I’m pretending he is.

Giulia scrunches up her nose as she speaks. “So…he’s like, what, vecchio? Like in those movies where the old guys marry young girls for some crazy reason?”

I wince, half wondering the same thing. Before I can answer, Nonna’s face darkens, her eyes flashing.

“Non ti lascerò fare una cosa del genere! I will not let you do this!” she snaps, folding her arms tightly across her chest.

“Nonna…” I sigh, trying to explain. “I already signed a contract…”

She raises her hand to stop me. “Then unsign it! It’s not a do-or-die situation, is it?”

I fall silent, and her expression softens. She places a hand on my cheek, her voice trembling. “I hate that you felt you had to do this for us, piccola mia.”

“Don’t, Nonna. It is not your fault.” I hold her hand to my cheek, feeling the warmth and strength in her touch. “I didn’t sell my soul or anything…it’s just marriage. So what if he’s…older?” I grimace, feeling my face heat up. “Women marry older men all the time, right? And he’s…he’s rich. He’ll help us. That’s the important thing, right?”

Nonna studies me, her face a mix of worry and resignation. “Are you really sure, Mirabella?”

I let out a long sigh, nodding. “Yes. I am.”

Nonna nods slowly, as if trying to convince herself. Giulia just looks at me with wide eyes, half bewildered, half amused, like she’s caught in the middle of some absurd dream. If I were her, I’d probably be laughing, too—her sister announcing her engagement to a stranger at the crack of dawn.

Nonna clears her throat, her tone sharpening slightly. “I’m still not giving my consent to this, but I understand that you’re an adult capable of making her own decisions.”

“Thank you, Nonna,” I say, my voice thick with emotion.

“Ah, don’t thank me. I still wish I could smack your head right now for even considering this!” She huffs, but there’s a hint of affection in her exasperation.

“And the men outside, they are…?” Guilia asks.

My stomach drops. I’d almost forgotten about them.

I glance between my grandmother and sister. I can’t tell them that they have to move in with us today, not after I just broke the news of my strange marriage to them. I expect them to get used to the idea first before anything else happens.

“They’re…here to take me,” I admit, keeping my voice soft. “The wedding is in three days…”

“Three days?” Giulia’s voice is a mix of disbelief and panic, while Nonna just stares at me, her eyes glassy, searching my face.

I exhale, trying to keep my voice steady. “There’s no time to explain everything right now, but I’ll see you both at the wedding—and after that, we’ll all be together again.”

Giulia shakes her head, her eyes darting between me and Nonna. “This is absolute bonkers! I must have fallen asleep on the couch watching those ridiculous rom coms again,” she mutters. “Someone pinch me so I can wake up and pretend this isn’t happening!”

Before I can say anything, a firm knock echoes from the front door, the sound pressing down on us like a weight.

“Please don’t worry.” I give them a reassuring smile. “I’ll make sure everything’s ready for you when it’s time for you to join me. This…it’s all going to work out.”

But as I hug them goodbye, I can see the doubt and fear in their eyes. The image stays with me even as I walk out the door, past the waiting men, and into a life I can only hope I’ll survive.

“I’ll go with you now,” I say, lifting my chin, “but my family stays here. I just told them, and they need some time to adjust. They’ll come after the wedding.”

They exchange glances, Luca’s jaw tightening briefly before he gives a small nod. “Fine.”

With a stiff nod of my own, I head back inside to pack a few essentials. My mom is still sleeping peacefully, and I ask Nonna to break the news gently once she wakes up. After hugging Giulia and Nonna goodbye, I steel myself and step out the door.

My heart pounds as Luca and his men guide me to the sleek BMW parked opposite our small house. The plush leather scent fills the car as I slide into the back seat, and I clutch my hands together, my palms sweating as I stare at the back of the driver’s head, wondering how my life had spiraled into this.

The silence in the car feels oppressive, as if I’m being driven into a beautiful prison. Luxury or not, this feels like a cage made of golden bars.

The drive is eerily quiet, and by the time we reach the estate, a tight knot of anxiety has settled in my chest. The place is like something out of a fairy tale—massive, with perfectly trimmed lawns and stone walls that tower over everything. The car glides up a winding drive, finally stopping before a mansion that’s more like a palace. I spot uniformed staff bustling about, their movements precise and efficient.

Luca opens the door, and I step out, my legs slightly unsteady. Two men, likely butlers, approach the car’s trunk, their faces briefly puzzled when they notice the only luggage I have is the small leather shoulder bag clutched in my hands.

The large doors open, and the grandeur of the place takes my breath away. Marble floors gleam under the light from an enormous chandelier, and I have to stop myself from gawking at the intricate artwork on the walls. Everything looks pristine, like a place untouched by real life.

Two maids approach me, one of them an older woman who wears a soft smile that reminds me of my mother. My chest tightens, and a wave of homesickness hits me—it hasn’t even been an hour, and I miss them already.

“Welcome, ma’am. It’s lovely to have you here,” the older woman says gently. “I’m Paula, and this is Clara. She’ll help you settle in.”

“Nice to meet you,” I reply, my smile polite but uncertain.

Clara reaches for my bag, and I follow them as they lead me through the house. We end up in what looks like the living room, except it’s larger than my entire house. The furniture looks expensive, the artwork on the walls likely priceless. It’s a far cry from my reality, yet something about it stirs a bittersweet feeling in me.

As a kid, this was what I imagined heaven to look like.

Whoever my husband is, he’s fucking loaded.

“We’ll take you to your room, then give you a tour if you’d like…” Paula’s voice filters through as I gawk at the opulent surroundings. Damn. The ceiling alone is a work of art, towering and intricately designed.

Through an open door across the room, I look into what seems to be a smaller visitors room. However, what catches my eyes are the two middle-aged women I see there. They’re beautiful, dressed in tailored designer outfits, directing the staff as they arrange a lavish floral display. My heart skips when one of them looks my way, her gaze sharp as she takes me in from across the room.

“Paula, come here,” she calls, her tone commanding.

I notice the way Paula stiffens slightly before turning, and I immediately realize that the women must be part of my husband’s family—my soon-to-be family.

“Take her upstairs,” she murmurs before heading toward the women, and I don’t miss the way they watch me with a hint of…disdain. They don’t like me.

“Right this way, ma’am,” Clara mutters, guiding me to a grand staircase.

I shake off the nerves and follow her to the second floor, where she leads me into what I realize is my room. My breath catches as I step inside. A massive queen-sized bed covered in plush velvet sits in the center, while floor-to-ceiling windows overlook a garden that stretches into the distance. The en suite bathroom looks like something out of a magazine, practically a spa in itself, complete with a marble tub and I imagine taking a long, hot bath here.

When I return from gawking at the bathroom, Clara smiles warmly. “I’m here to help with anything you need, ma’am. Your bridal treatments will begin at noon,” she says.

Bridal treatments. That’s why they hauled me here so early.

“Sure.” I nod absently, barely absorbing the details as she outlines the schedule of spa treatments, fittings, and other rituals planned to turn me into someone worthy of…well, whomever this man is.

Once Clara leaves, I sink onto the bed, catching my reflection in the floor-length mirror across the room. The girl staring back looks like a stranger, lost, adrift in a world that doesn’t feel real.

But there’s no time to settle in. I’m whisked away to the mansion’s private spa—yes, they have one inside the house—where I’m pampered, steamed, and scrubbed until my skin practically glows. By the time I return to my room, I’m thoroughly exhausted.

Clara offers to bring dinner up, and I’m more than happy to accept. The food she serves isn’t like anything I’ve ever eaten before—a banquet of steak, baked pasta, and perfectly seasoned vegetables that make me wonder if I’ve been eating veggies wrong my whole life.

When I finally slip into bed later that night, the soft sheets practically swallow me, but sleep doesn’t come easily. I’m craving an escape from this new life. I let my mind wander and take me somewhere else.

Ettore.

His hands, his lips, the way he touched me, claimed me, made me feel…

I close my eyes and let the memory take me, desperate for a taste of the familiar in this strange, gilded cage.

My fingers trail down my stomach, a warmth spreading through my body as they reach my already wet folds. I let out a soft moan, slipping two fingers in, imagining it’s his thick fingers filling me up. My pussy clenches in need. I’ve been craving to feel something like this ever since that night.

I moan more fervently as my thumb circles my clit, flicking over the sensitive bud. I hear the sound of his grunts in my ear, feel the warmth and weight of his body pressed on me, hear his guttural voice as he calls me his Kitten.

An orgasm hits me hard and fast, shocking me. I’ve never been able to bring myself to such pleasure with my fingers before. I’m panting by the time I come down from my high. And when everything slows down together with my raging heartbeat, I’m left with a nagging feeling that grips me even worse than it did before.

I’m in a strange room, in the mansion of a stranger, feeling the walls close in around me. Every polished surface, every gleaming fixture in this house of unimaginable wealth is a reminder of what I’ve committed to, and how trapped I already feel. I can’t do this.

It feels ridiculous to be having second thoughts when I only signed the contract yesterday. But there’s this heavy knot in my stomach that I can’t ignore, a voice urging me to run. It’s telling me that staying here will only pull me further into something from which I may not be able to escape. I can’t shake the thought: If this feeling doesn’t go away, I may have to do something drastic. Escape. Even if it means running away on the morning of my own wedding.

I close my eyes, trying to will myself into sleep, hoping that some rest will quiet the storm in my mind. But then, like a dark whisper in the silence, Abruzzi’s words echo in my head.

I’ve signed a deal with the devil.