Dark Mafia Bride: Chapter 7

The night air bites with a chill as Giovanni and I step out of the laundromat. Ever since that strange guy left, I knew I couldn’t stay in that room a second longer. He knew my name and had offered me marriage—on behalf of his boss, no less—without even revealing who this boss is. The whole thing gave me the feeling I was being watched. Giovanni must have picked up on my discomfort because he suggested I call it a night.

“You’ll figure out something soon,” he says as we cross the empty street. “You’ll get through this phase.”

“Yeah.” I sigh, though I’m not so sure.

“Too bad you didn’t get what you came to the club for. The night’s still young, though. You maybe could’ve met someone if you’d stayed longer,” Giovanni teases, his grin a little too smug. “Maybe a rich sugar daddy who wouldn’t mind you as a sixth wife.”

I laugh, shoving his shoulder. “Dick. I’ll tell Alessia to let you sleep on the sofa. Don’t test me.”

“Yeah, like my baby would listen to an outsider over me.”

I raise an eyebrow, hands to my chest, feigning offense even though the term outsider hits a little harder than it should. “Did you just refer to me as an outsider?”

Giovanni smirks. “Oh, come on. You know I love you. You’re my favorite outsider.”

I scoff dramatically, but my lips twitch. “That’s it. I’ll make sure Alessia knows how you bully me at her back. She’ll kick you out of bed.”

“Please. You think Alessia’s gonna listen to you?” He shakes his head with exaggerated disbelief. “Good luck with that. You forget I’ve got an edge you don’t.”

“Oh? And what’s that?”

He gives me a cheeky, mischievous smile, then proceeds to move his tongue around in his mouth, clearly imitating some sort of suggestive act that immediately makes me wish I could rewind the conversation back five minutes.

“Jackass,” I mutter, disgusted, though I can’t hold back a laugh.

“But you love me that way, don’t you?” He winks, leaning back with that self-satisfied grin only he can pull off.

I roll my eyes but can’t stop smiling. Despite the chaos that is my life, these little moments of ridiculousness are oddly comforting. When the world feels as if it’s always about to explode, sometimes it’s the stupid jokes and silly fights that make everything feel a little more bearable.

Just then, the familiar unmistakable roar from a sputtering car pulls up—a red Honda Civic, Alessia’s old car she got from her mom. The engine sputters before finally stopping. Alessia bursts out of the car, her signature bright grin already lighting up her face.

“Mira,” she squeals, throwing her arms around me in a warm hug. I chuckle, hugging her back, the sweet smell of her vanilla perfume filling the air.

“I didn’t know you were out tonight! I would’ve come,” she says, pulling back to flash me a smile.

“Well, hello to you too, babe,” Giovanni teases from beside me, and I laugh.

Alessia rolls her eyes. “We literally live together, Gio. I saw you before you left. Meanwhile, I haven’t seen my best friend in forever!”

“We had breakfast two weeks ago,” I remind her with a smirk, earning me a scowl from her.

“Two weeks is forever when it’s your best friend, especially since we live in the same city!” She huffs, releasing me from the hug. “Plus, it doesn’t count as breakfast if you work in said restaurant and barely spend fifteen minutes with me.”

I sigh, feeling a little guilty. “You know how busy I’ve been, Alessia.”

“Yeah, I know,” she says with a small, sad smile, right before Giovanni pulls her into his arms. The sad smile disappears when he plants a kiss on her neck and grabs her ass, making her giggle.

“Oh, come on, guys,” I groan, but they don’t hear me since he’s now kissing—no, furiously making out—with her.

“Hey,” Giovanni breathes as they finally break apart.

“Hey,” Alessia whispers back, biting her lower lip.

“You two are so cute it’s nauseating,” I say, scrunching my face.

“What can I say? He can’t get enough of me,” Alessia teases, giving Giovanni a playful look.

“That’s true,” he agrees, and the way he glances at her with that soft look in his eyes, tells me he’s completely honest. It’s nice seeing them like this—happy. They’ve been through their share of rough patches, but they’ve managed to always come out stronger.

“Are you coming with us?” Alessia asks as they head back to the car.

I shake my head, though it’s tempting. “Nah, you two lovebirds enjoy yourselves. I’ll take the bus.”

“You sure?” Alessia frowns slightly.

“Yup, my place is totally out of your way, anyway.”

“All right, but you have to come by soon. Promise?”

“Promise,” I say, smiling. “I’ll visit, don’t worry.”

They climb into the car and wave goodbye as it pulls away, leaving me standing under the neon glow of the laundromat sign. For a moment, I think about how easy it would have been to hop in with them, but I’d feel guilty making them drive out of their way at this hour.

I turn toward the bus stop and start walking. My feet ache from these stupidly expensive shoes, and all I want is to get home, curl up in bed, and sleep. Thankfully, it’s not too late—thanks to that strange guy who made me leave the club early. I can still get enough rest before I have to wake up for my shift tomorrow.

As I approach the bus stop, I spot the sign in the distance. The occasional flicker of the nearby streetlight gives the scene an eerie feel, even though it’s only 8 p.m. My heels click against the gravel road as I make my way to the stop. A gust of wind rushes past me, sending a cold shiver down my spine. It doesn’t help that I’m dressed so lightly in this flimsy sequined dress.

I’m almost at the stop when I notice a shadowy figure sitting at the far end of the street on a bench under the flickering light. My pace slows as a tight knot of unease forms in my stomach. It’s only when I get closer that I see the soft glow of a cigarette in the person’s hand.

When the streetlight flickers back on, its light catches the edge of his sharp profile. My stomach tightens. It’s him.

Ettore.

I stop for a second as my heart begins to race in my chest. I watch him bring the cigarette to his lips again. His cheeks hollow slightly as he inhales, holding it for a few moments before exhaling. I’m captivated by the way the smoke curls upward lazily before vanishing into the night air. I never knew smoking could be so… mesmerizing.

But I know it’s not just the cigarette. It’s him.

He’s seated casually on a low concrete bench, his long legs stretched out in front of him. His long black hair is pulled back tonight, with a few wavy strands escaping and falling over his face. The short scruff lining his jaw adds a rugged edge to his appearance. He wears a black button-up shirt, the sleeves rolled up just enough to reveal his muscular forearms. A thick black coat rests on the arm of the bench, adding to his striking look.

I force my legs to move. The sound of my shoes draws his attention, and that’s when he turns to look at me.

For a second, I can’t breathe. His hazel eyes pierce through the dim light, locking onto mine. My stomach flutters, and warmth creeps up my neck. My mind races back to that night—the heat of his body against mine, the way his rough hands explored my skin, the way he filled me up with his⁠—

Get a fucking grip, Mirabella.

I straighten my posture and walk toward him, trying to keep my cool even though I’m anything but calm inside.

“Are you following me?” I ask, crossing my arms to hide my nerves. I’m relieved that my voice comes out sounding steady even as my heart pounds rapidly in my chest.

He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he takes his time, trailing his eyes over me in that slow, intense way that makes my body heat up. My breathing quickens as his gaze lingers on my bare legs, and I’m flooded with memories of his face between them when he made me orgasm for the first time that night.

He clenches his jaw and flicks the cigarette onto the ground, crushing it under his boot.

“You ran off before I woke up.”

His words hit me like a challenge. His tone is casual, but there’s an edge to it. He leans back slightly, waiting for my response.

“I don’t remember making any promises to stick around,” I reply calmly, even though my nerves are anything but.

“Plus,” I continue when he doesn’t say anything, “you didn’t answer my question.”

“I’m not following you,” he says, leaning forward now, his elbows resting on his knees. “But I could ask you the same thing. What were you doing at that club?”

My heart skips a beat. The club. Had he seen me there?

“I didn’t realize you owned it,” I reply, keeping my face as neutral as possible.

His eyes narrow. “I don’t.”

“Then it’s none of your business.”

His lips twitch into the slightest hint of a smirk, and it hits me how handsome he is. For a moment there’s a thick silence between us before he speaks again.

“Is he your boyfriend?”

I blink, caught off guard. “What?”

“The man you were with at the bar,” he says, his voice hardening as he waits for my response.

I snort. “Again, it’s none of your business.”

A flicker of something—jealousy?—crosses his face, but he masks it well. A tiny thrill runs through me at the idea that he might actually care, but I force myself to stay cool, giving him a casual shrug.

“Why do you ask, anyway? You jealous?”

There’s a brief pause, and I swear I see a muscle tick in his jaw. But then he smirks, brushing it off like it’s nothing. “Not at all. Just curious.”

“Right.”

Before I can say anything else, headlights sweep over the pavement, and a sleek black car pulls up beside us. It’s different from the one he drove that night. A man like him probably has a whole fleet of cars at his disposal.

Ettore glances at it briefly before looking back at me.

“You’ll see me again soon, Kitten.”

That fucking nickname.

Grab the headboard, Kitten…

I groan inwardly at the intrusive memory. My thoughts scatter when he grabs his coat and stands up. My heart pounds in my chest as he approaches me, but then he just walks past. My breath hitches in my throat as his arm brushes against mine, but he slips into the backseat of his car. The vehicle drives off, leaving me standing there with a racing heart and a flutter in my stomach.

After standing motionless for a few seconds, I blink, snapping myself back to reality. I turn back to the empty street, but my heart won’t stop racing. What the hell was that? I start walking toward the bus stop again, my mind spinning with thoughts of Ettore. But as I near the corner, I sense something else.

A figure shifts in the shadows, followed by another. My breath catches. Two lanky men step into the dim light, their eyes cold and calculating. Their presence hits me like a jolt to the gut, and I freeze.

“Mirabella,” one of them says in a low, threatening voice. “We’ve been looking for you.”

I take a step back as my heart pounds rapidly for an entirely different reason now. They move closer, cutting off my escape route.

“You know why we’re here,” the taller one drawls, his eyes sweeping over me. “Abruzzi is really mad, princess.”

I assume it’s because the men he sent after me are now dead.

“You’ve got just twenty-four hours to come up with the money.”

“What?” I gasp, but before I can say another word, he pulls out a phone and shows me a picture on the screen.

It’s a picture of Giulia and Nonna from earlier today when they went grocery shopping. I know it was taken today because they’re wearing the same clothes. My heart stops, and cold fear crawls up my spine.

“Twenty-four hours, princess. If the money isn’t ready by then…” He lets the sentence trail off, the threat clear in the silence that follows.

My throat tightens. I can’t even speak. I can’t beg or plead. It’s useless.

Without waiting for another word, the men step back into the shadows, vanishing as quickly as they appeared.

I can’t breathe. Without thinking, I turn and start running in the opposite direction, one prayer racing through my mind.

I hope the strange man from earlier is still there.

By the time I reach the familiar shop, my heart is hammering so hard it hurts. I push the door open, ignore the woman behind the counter and sprint down the corridor. I flash the bouncers my pass and see a flicker of confusion in their eyes as they let me through.

The music is even louder now as I rush inside. My head is a mess as I push my way through the crowd. I know I look like a madwoman, but I don’t care. My eyes dart across the dimly lit space, but I see no sign of the guy.

“Hey,” I exhale, approaching the bar.

The bartender from earlier flashes a smile at me. “It’s you again…”

“Did you see the guy who approached me earlier?” I interrupt him. “He’s tall, wore dark shades, and is a bit scary looking?”

“I’m sorry,” he says, looking at me as if I’ve grown two heads. “I don’t think I know whom you’re describing.”

A frustrated groan bubbles up my throat, but I swallow it and plaster a fake smile on my lips.

“Thanks.”

I step out of the club again with only one option left. My hands shake as I pull the business card sitting in my purse. Earlier, when I grabbed it from the counter, I didn’t think I’d actually use it, especially not on the same night I received that ridiculous proposition.

The black metal glimmers in my hand as I dial the number.

It rings once before the call is answered.

“I’ll do it.” I rush out before the other person can say anything. “I’ll marry your boss.”

There’s a beat of silence before I hear the strange man’s sharp voice.

“Meet me at The Silver Key Hotel tomorrow at noon.”

I tighten my grip on my phone. “What for?”

“To sign the agreement,” he says like it’s obvious. “Do not be late.”

And without waiting for a response, he hangs up.