Dark Mafia Bride: An Arranged Marriage, Secret Baby Romance (Mafia Vows)
Dark Mafia Bride: Chapter 46

As the car rolls down the winding driveway of the Greco estate, a current of electricity buzzes between us, igniting every nerve ending in my body. The anticipation thickens the air, and I can feel the heat of Mirabella’s presence through my thick coat.

It’s like a tempting flame, drawing me closer to consume me. Every stolen glance reveals the same desperate need reflected in her eyes—a longing that has been simmering, unchecked, for months.

The car comes to a stop with a loud screech in front of the house. We step outside, and the cool night air contrasts sharply with the warmth radiating from our bodies. The world around me fades into nothingness, and the only thing I can focus on is her.

Reaching for her hand, I ignore the jolt of pleasure that races through me at the simple touch. Her fingers intertwine with mine, soft and trusting, and I lead her up the familiar steps of the house and through the grand doors. The echo of our footsteps on the marble floors feels deafening in the silence, each step carrying us closer to the inevitable.

Up the staircase and down the hall, we arrive at my bedroom—our bedroom. The moment the door closes behind us, the thin thread of restraint I’ve clung to snaps, and I’m capturing her lips with mine. She moans at the contact, kissing me back with equal fervor.

Her arms wrap around my neck, pulling me closer until there’s no space left between us. My hands find her waist, gripping her as if she might disappear if I let go. Her touch is just as desperate as her hands glide over my shoulders, pushing my coat off and letting it fall unceremoniously to the floor. The sensation of her fingers through the thin fabric of my shirt makes my pulse race, each touch unraveling me further.

As soon as the material drops to the floor, I immediately lift her up, carrying her to the bed while she wraps her legs around my waist. I lay her back against the soft mattress, my body following suit to kiss her lips and drag my mouth down her neck. I run my hands over every inch of her body, greedy for every single inch of her.

She moans as my hands skim across her breasts before slipping beneath the straps of her dress to pull it off before unclasping her bra. I pull one sensitive nipple between my lips as my fingers trail lower down her torso, brushing the sensitive skin of her inner thighs until my fingertips find their target.

“Ettore.” She releases a choked gasp when I push her thong to one side to slip two fingers inside her. She arches her hips slightly, showing me just how much she wants this. I can feel her arousal pulsing against me, feel her pussy clenching around my fingers.

I drag my lips from her breasts down to the firm curve of her stomach.

“I love you, Mirabella,” I whisper against her skin before pressing a long kiss on her stomach.

I hear her release a sharp exhale as one hand sinks into my hair. “I love you too, Ettore.”

Her confession dissolves into a moan when I insert a third finger inside her and begin to pump. She moans loudly as her hands begin to hastily unbutton my shirt. I lean back slightly to watch her pussy while I fill her up and tease her with my fingers.

“Your pussy is as pretty as I remembered,” I whisper as I stare down at her, taking in her lush curves. “So tight…so ready to take my cock…”

“Ettore,” she moans, pushing my shirt over my shoulders and then tugging at my pants.

“So impatient,” I growl, continuing to pump her slowly as her long fingers fumble to unbuckle my belt and undo my zipper. When she finally has my fly open, she slides her hand underneath, running her warm palm over my hard stomach muscles. As her fingers touch the head of my erection, I groan in satisfaction. She knows just what buttons to press to drive me insane.

“I want you now, Ettore,” she whispers, looking up at me with pleading, needy eyes.

“Fuck,” I say through gritted teeth as I hastily shove down my pants and pull her thong off completely. I shove my boxer briefs down my legs before positioning myself behind her and adjusting between her spread legs.

We are both lying on our sides, and I am being cautious not to put too much weight on her bump.

When I slide into her slick, wet heat, we both groan at the sensation. I roll my hips slowly, taking my time to savor and enjoy the moment. Mirabella leans back to kiss me again, wrapping her arms around my neck and one leg around mine to hold me close. A wave of ecstasy ripples through my chest and explodes into my brain as she starts to grind herself against me faster and harder.

My balls tighten with each stroke, and I start thrusting faster, deeper.

Her nails dig into my shoulders as she calls out my name in pleasure.

“That’s it, baby,” I groan, sliding one hand around her throat while I find a steady pace that hits her right where she likes.

“Oh, fuck,” she chokes. “Ettore…”

The seductive sounds she makes are like music to my ears, sending shivers down my spine. I rock my hips harder, faster, and deeper until I feel her body stiffen slightly before she begins to shudder. My own orgasm hits me, and we ride out our climax together.

When we both come down from our high, I lean slightly back to take in her flushed face.

“Welcome home, Bella.”

She laughs, and fuck…I’ve missed that sound.

“I’m happy to be home,” she says dreamily, gazing at me with adoration in her eyes. “I missed you.”

I lean in to kiss her again, softly, tenderly and full of the emotions words can’t convey.

“I love you so much,” I whisper against her lips.

She smiles back at me. “I love you, too.” And minutes later, she falls asleep in my bed—our bed—a place where we can finally be together after being apart for far too long.

Golden sunlight streams through the curtains, painting delicate patterns across the bed and bathing the room in a soft glow. I wake slowly, cocooned in the warmth of the sheets—and the warmth of Mirabella.

She lies curled against me, her breathing steady, her dark hair spilling over the pillow like a cascade of silk. The air still carries traces of last night, a reminder of how far we’ve come.

I watch her for a moment, unable to tear my gaze away. From a one-night stand—a night born from a whirlwind of adrenaline and gratitude after I saved her life—to this.

Falling hard and fast, we’ve weathered a rollercoaster of emotions, yet every twist and turn is one I’m more than willing to go through again because it’s worth it.

Carefully, I reach out and brush a strand of hair from her face. She stirs slightly but doesn’t wake, her peaceful expression tugging a small smile from me. She looks so innocent, so content.

A glance at the clock on the wall tells me it’s 7:36 a.m. I slip out of bed quietly, not wanting to disturb her, and head to the kitchen.

“S-sir!” Paula stammers, startled as I enter, heading straight for the coffee machine.

“You can leave, Paula,” I instruct calmly. “Also, let the others on kitchen duty know that I’ll handle breakfast myself today.”

Her wide eyes betray her surprise, but she nods quickly and hurries off, likely wondering why I, of all people, am suddenly interested in cooking—a task I haven’t taken on in years.

The answer is simple: Mirabella.

I set about preparing coffee for myself and tea for her. As the kettle comes to a boil, I crack a few eggs into a pan, the aroma of sizzling bacon soon filling the air.

Just as I flip the bacon, I hear soft footsteps behind me. Turning, I see Mirabella standing in the doorway, her eyes adjusting to the light. Sleep still lingers in her expression, but when her gaze finds me, a slow, sweet smile spreads across her face.

“Good morning,” I say, my voice warm as I focus on the pan.

“Good morning…Chef Ettore,” she teases, her voice carrying a playful hum as she approaches. “I didn’t know you could cook.”

I chuckle, glancing at her over my shoulder. “I’m not just some spoiled rich boy, Bella.”

Her laughter rings out, and she wraps her arms around me from behind, her touch sending a surge of warmth through me. In that moment, I can see our future—a life filled with laughter, quiet mornings like this, the sound of little feet running through the house.

It’s a vision of perfection.

As minutes roll by, we settle into an easy rhythm, working together to finish breakfast, our lighthearted banter flowing like music. When the food is ready, I serve her a plate of fried eggs and bacon, setting it on the small round table in the kitchen.

Just as we sit down, the television in the background breaks through our quiet moment.

“We’re receiving reports of a tragic accident involving the infamous mobster Matteo Abruzzi,” the news anchor says, her voice heavy with feigned neutrality. “Early details describe the scene as catastrophic. Witnesses report his car veered off a sharp cliff on the outskirts of the city, plummeting into the canyon below. Authorities state the vehicle was found mangled beyond recognition, with no chance of survival for the driver.”

Mirabella’s hand freezes mid-air, the glass of water she was reaching for forgotten. Her wide eyes meet mine, searching, questioning. The silent conversation is deafening.

Was this you? Did you…?

“You know me, Bella,” I say, my tone calm, deliberate. “I had to make him pay for what he did to you. To your family.”

Her lips part as if to argue, but she hesitates. For once, she doesn’t scold me or jump to lecture me on limits or consequences. Instead, she studies me. And maybe, just maybe, there’s a part of her that understands.

“Ettore…” she begins softly, but the words trail off.

I take her hesitation as my cue, moving to kneel before her.

My hands find her face, cradling it delicately.

“You are mine, Bella. Mine to protect. To love. To cherish,” I say, my voice steady, filled with an unshakable resolve. “I’d die a thousand deaths and fight a million wars before I let any harm come near you. For every battle you faced before you met me, I’ll make sure to obliterate those memories alongside the bastards who caused them. You’ll never have to face them again.”

My thumb brushes her cheek as I hold her gaze, my words pouring out like a vow I’ve made a hundred times before—and will make a hundred more. “I’ll always fight for you. Always. And that includes putting assholes like Abruzzi, who’ve already earned their spot in my black book, six feet under without a second thought. You’re my world. Protecting you is my purpose, and I’ll never hesitate.”

My words hang in the air, charged with sincerity as I lean closer to her. I seal my promise with a kiss. A declaration of my commitment and loyalty. I pour all of my love and determination into the moment.

When we finally part, her eyes shimmer with unspoken emotion and her breath catches ever so slightly. She gazes at me as if I’ve given her the entire universe, but still manages to tease me with her soft voice, saying, “You sure know how to make a girl feel like royalty, don’t you?”

“Royalty? Damned right. You’re my queen, Bella. And anyone who forgets that will have to deal with me.”

“You’re impossible.”

I lean closer, my lips a breath away from hers. “Impossible? I prefer devoted, but I’ll take it.”

“Devoted? Is that what we’re calling your particular brand of crazy now?”

“Call it what you want, Kitten,” I reply, smirking. “But you’re stuck with me. Barbarian, lunatic—whatever label you slap on me—I’m yours, Bella. Always.”

“Oh, absolutely you are. And while we’re at it, let’s not forget to add personal chaos magnet to the list.”

“A chaos magnet who keeps your world in order. Admit it, you’d be bored without me.”

She tilts her head, pretending to consider. “Hmm…possibly. But I’d also get a lot more sleep.”

I can’t help but laugh at that, pulling her even closer. “Well, I’ll just have to keep making it worth your while.”

She shakes her head, but there’s a smile on her lips. “I’m still not sure how I ended up with you.”

“Fate,” I say simply, my voice low. “And because no one else would dare keep up with you.”

She laughs again, and I capture the sound with a kiss. Her hands slide up to rest against my chest, and I know in that moment that everything I’ve done—everything I’ll ever do—is worth it.

For her. For us.

For our twins.

When we finally break apart, the news anchor’s voice cuts through again.

“Police are continuing to investigate the circumstances surrounding the crash, but given the extensive damage and lack of evidence, it may remain a mystery.”

Mirabella arches an eyebrow at me, and I shrug, entirely unapologetic. “What? Sometimes karma just needs a little…encouragement.”

She swats my shoulder, but her smile betrays her. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“Oh yeah? Why don’t you show me just how lucky I am to love you,” I murmur, pulling her into my arms. Her laughter softens into a contented sigh as she leans into me, fitting perfectly like she always does.

In the warmth of her embrace, I know I’ve found my peace, no matter how many wars I’ve waged to get here.

I seal the moment with another kiss. It’s slow and deliberate, a quiet declaration that no chaos, no fight, and no storm could ever steal this from me.

I realize I’ve found my peace, my home. This—her in my arms—will always be my favorite thing to come back to.