Dark Mafia Bride: An Arranged Marriage, Secret Baby Romance (Mafia Vows)
Dark Mafia Bride: Chapter 9

My legs feel like jelly the moment I step through the doors of The Silver Key Hotel. This place is known as the most expensive hotel in New York, and I can see why. Everything around me exudes luxury, from the sparkling chandeliers above to the glossy marble floors reflecting the soft, golden light.

Never in my life did I think I would be in a place like this. My world and this world don’t mix. At all. A part of me thinks this is some sort of power move from my strange husband-to-be. He wants to show me just how wealthy he is, make me swoon, and then seal the deal once the contract is signed.

But that’s just delusional. A wealthy man like he is doesn’t have to prove anything to someone like me.

I catch a glimpse of myself in the automatic glass doors just as they slide shut behind me. I look ridiculous compared to the usual guests who frequent this place, even though I’m wearing my best black dress, a new pair of flats, and a matching black purse.

This is annoying. I’m dressed in my Sunday best, for God’s sake.

As if on cue, a middle-aged woman in a thick fur coat walks past me. She gives me a quick once-over, her eyes flicking over my frame. She’s probably wondering if I’ve lost my way. Her gaze narrows slightly, and I snort inwardly. Yup. She definitely thinks I don’t belong here.

Too bad I have bigger problems to worry about. Like, I don’t know, the marriage contract I’ll be signing before I leave this place.

Straightening my shoulders, I take a deep breath and head toward the elevator across the lobby. I received a brief text from the number I called telling me to meet him in a restaurant on the fifth floor of the hotel.

The elevator ride feels like it stretches on forever. As I stare at my reflection in the mirrored walls, I try to ignore the gnawing feeling in my gut. I literally have no idea what I’m about to walk into. I don’t even know the names of the men I’m dealing with. This is definitely creepy, but what choice do I have? By tonight, the twenty-four hours Abruzzi gave me will be up. I have to take whatever chances I can, no matter how dangerous or sketchy it may seem.

The soft chime of the elevator pulls me out of my thoughts. The doors slide open to reveal a sleek, dimly lit hallway. A gentle melody drifts through the air, mixed with the rich aroma wafting from the restaurant nearby. My heart races in my chest as I step out of the elevator and head toward the door. I’m about to sign away a part of my life. Heck, my whole life. But I can’t back down now.

I push the door open and enter the small, lavish restaurant. I don’t have to scan the space for long before I spot him—the guy from the club—at the far end. He’s not wearing dark shades today, and somehow that makes him even scarier. His eyes lock onto mine, and I swallow hard before making my way toward him.

“You’re on time,” he says in his usual calm and measured tone. “That’s a good start.”

“A good start would be you telling me your name,” I blurt out.

Shit. That sounded sharper than I intended. I’m on edge. I hate feeling this way.

I bite back the apology that’s on the tip of my tongue. He’s asking me to sign something that could change my entire life. Demanding his name is the least I can ask for.

“Luca,” he says, his eyes never leaving mine, unreadable. There’s no flicker of annoyance at my sharpness, nothing to show he cares.

That’s even worse.

“Sit,” he commands, his voice cold as steel.

I shoot him a glare but sit, my movements stiff, betraying my discomfort.

He slides a black folder and a sleek ballpoint pen across the table toward me.

“Open it.”

I snort under my breath. “You really love telling people what to do, don’t you?”

But even as the words leave my mouth, I’m reaching for the folder, flipping it open. My eyes scan the first page, where dense legal jargon sprawls across the page.

“This is…a lot,” I mutter, my voice shaky. The numbers, the clauses—it’s overwhelming.

“There’s a nondisclosure agreement on the first page. Nothing about this arrangement leaves this room. You don’t tell anyone. Your silence is legally binding.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” I mutter, rolling my eyes, trying to brush it off. I flip to the next page, my heart pounding louder with every word.

His voice, smooth and detached, drifts over me as he continues outlining the terms. “You and your family will relocate to his estate. You’ll be under constant surveillance at all times.” He lets the weight of that statement sink in before adding, “You’ll make required appearances. No media. No questions.”

My heart is hammering in my chest. I don’t even know who these people are, but the threat is as tangible as the air between us.

“And the money,” he continues, eyes cold and assessing. “One million dollars will be wired into your bank account the day after the wedding. Another $100,000 every month for the duration of the contract.”

I can feel my stomach twist. This is real.

“And your mother,” he goes on, his tone clinical, “will be admitted to the city’s best hospital immediately after the wedding. She’ll have a private room with full-time nurses.” He lists the details as if he’s reading a grocery list, each word landing harder than the last.

It’s too much, too fast. My head spins.

“Who exactly is your boss?” I interrupt, unable to keep the edge out of my voice. “This feels like…I don’t know. It’s too much. Everything is happening too fast.”

Luca’s eyes narrow slightly, the only sign that he’s actually listening. His gaze doesn’t soften. It’s sharp, predatory.

“You’ll find out in due time,” he says, his voice laced with finality.

I feel my frustration grow, something bitter bubbling up inside. “Just tell me who he is. Give me a name. Even a first name, like you did with yours.”

For a brief moment, his eyes flash with something—anger, maybe?—but it’s gone before I can pinpoint it.

His voice drops, and he repeats himself. “You’ll find out in due time.”

I grind my teeth together, the tension in my body coiling tighter. I stare him down, trying to cut through his calm with my gaze, but he’s unflinching. Not an ounce of fear in him. Not even the slightest sign of intimidation.

A heavy sigh escapes me as I stand up, grabbing my bag from the chair beside me. I’m done. I shouldn’t have come here.

“I’m sorry… This was a mistake,” I mutter, my voice suddenly small. “I-I shouldn’t have come.”

As I try to stand, he slips one hand into his suit coat, and I instantly tense. This is the part in movies where the mysterious guy pulls out a gun and places it on the table, forcing the other person to sign their life away. My heart jumps into my throat as I see something black peek out from beneath the jacket.

Shit. He’s going to kill me. And with how things have gone so far, I think he might actually get away with it.

Except when he drops something on the table, it’s not a black gun but a black envelope.

“Ten thousand,” he says. “In cash.”

I don’t move. I can’t move. My body’s locked in place, my breath caught in my throat. My eyes fixate on the sleek black envelope. It’s glossy, menacing—an offer or a threat. I can’t tell which.

“The rest will come three days from now.”

“Wait…but you said after the wedding,”

He leans back in his seat, the faintest twitch of his lips, almost a smile, as if he’s amused by my confusion. “Exactly.”

“The wedding is in three days?!”

Luca’s expression remains neutral, but I catch the smallest upward tug of his lips. He is giving me a smile now, and it’s actually scary. “Your whole life is about to change, Mirabella. Beyond what you could have ever imagined. Even after you both walk away next year, you’ll never know what it feels like to be destitute again.”

I keep staring at the envelope for what feels like forever. It’s the down payment on my freedom—or my imprisonment. A shaky exhale escapes my lips as I take the pen and flip to the last page of the folder. As I stare at the blank space where my signature should be, the image of Giulia, Nonna, and Abruzzi’s men from last night flashes through my mind. I think of my mother and how she couldn’t get out of bed this morning. I remember the old, disgusting men who try to grope me at my job at the bar.

Before I realize what I’m doing, I scrawl my signature on the paper. I feel the weight of Luca’s gaze on me as he watches closely. When I’m done, I close the folder and slide it back to him before grabbing the thick envelope. It’s heavy—heavier than I expected.

“What now?” I mutter as a strange mix of relief and dread wash over me.

“Your wedding is in three days. Prepare yourself and your family for the upcoming changes in your life.”

I nod, biting the inside of my cheek as I slip the envelope into my bag. I stand on shaky feet and give him one last nod before walking out of the room.

The hot afternoon sun hits me as I step outside the hotel. A headache begins to pound at my temples, and I try to push it aside, but I know that’s impossible. My shoulders ache from the weight of what I’ve just done.

But, hey! On the bright side. I am halfway free from Abruzzi and his constant harassment. I’ll pay him back once I get the rest of the money, and then he’ll be out of my hair for good. The money I owe the other loan sharks doesn’t even come to $1,000. I can easily pay them back after my first monthly paycheck from my husband.

“God, this is unreal,” I groan as the throbbing in my head intensifies. Everything is happening too fast, and I can barely keep up. I can’t handle the whiplash of emotions I feel or figure out the next steps I should take.

Just then, I’m reminded of the envelope, which feels like a weight burning a hole in my bag.

You should settle Abruzzi first, my inner voice reminds me.

Instead of taking a bus, I decide to walk the long route to my neighborhood. Walking has always helped me clear my head, after all. As my legs carry me from the upscale neighborhood to the rundown streets I know so well, the hot sun gives way to the crisp evening air.

By the time I arrive at the familiar large but dilapidated building that I’ve seen in my nightmares for months, I feel a newfound boldness.

I step into the building and take the stairs to the second floor, where Abruzzi’s office resides. Upon arriving, I push the door open without knocking.

The thick smell of tobacco and expensive cologne hits me as I enter the spacious room. Two men are smoking by the window, and as I walk farther inside, their eyes drink me in. Yet, my glare is only focused on the man seated behind the large desk at the far end of the room.

His usual smirk widens into a smug grin as I approach him, fueling the anger in my veins.

“Well, well, if it isn’t my favorite debtor,” Abruzzi drawls, leaning back in his chair. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

I slip the envelope out of my bag and toss it onto his desk. “Half of what I owe you.”

“Oh, baby,” he chuckles. “I only asked my men to rattle you a bit. You didn’t have to go to such extreme lengths to get this money.”

His mocking tone stings, and I clench my fists to contain my anger. Men like Abruzzi love the control they wield over poor helpless people who depend on them. It’s why, even though he’s loaded, he established his loan shark business here in the slums.

Dirty bastard.

“You could have come to me personally,” he continued in that annoying drawl of his. “Maybe I could have come up with an agreement that would benefit the both of us.”

The other men in the room laugh, and I feel disgust crawl up my spine.

“I would rather die,” I bite out, and I mean it.

“Really, darling?” He smiles, and the gesture makes him look a bit younger.

Abruzzi isn’t unpleasant to look at. In fact, some might consider him attractive and would jump at the opportunity to be with a man like him. But I despise him. I know he’s involved in dark, shady dealings. Heck, this establishment and the men who hang around him are proof that he could be part of some criminal gang.

“You’ll have your full payment by next week,” I say firmly, ignoring his taunts.

“I like this newfound courage of yours,” he chuckles before grabbing the envelope and flipping it open.

His eyebrows shoot up, and I see something flicker in his eyes as he scans the bills inside.

“Impressive.” He closes the envelope and pins me with a stare. “Tell me, sweetheart, where did you get this kind of money?”

“You have your money. How I got it is none of your business,” I snap before turning to walk away.

“Oh, but it is. My men saw you talking to Luca. Do you know who he works for?”

That makes me halt in my steps. When I turn to look at him, the smugness in his smile makes my skin crawl. He knows more than he’s letting on.

I keep my face blank. “I don’t care.”

Abruzzi chuckles, leaning back. “You should. You think you’re free? Think again. You just signed a deal with the devil.”

His words send a shiver down my spine, but I refuse to let him see how deeply they cut.

“I don’t give a fuck. And again, it’s none of your business,” I snap before turning and continuing my journey to the door.

“You’ll be back, baby,” he calls after me. “When you realize the mess you’ve gotten yourself into, you’ll come running back to me.”

I step out of the office and slam the door shut, blocking off the laughter echoing behind me. Even as I leave the cursed building, his words cling to me like smoke.

Abruzzi might be a sick bastard, but I can’t ignore the nagging feeling in my stomach that there’s truth in his words.

In my desperate need to be free from him, have I just sold my life to a greater devil?