Page 1 of Mafia Don's Twisted Union

Chapter 1

Mia

The late afternoon sunlight floods Bianca’s penthouse at the Waldorf Astoria, reflecting off the sleek marble floors and catching on the gold accents of the furniture. The space is a vision of modern luxury, as perfect and curated as the woman who owns it.

“Mia!” Bianca’s voice carries from the hallway, light and melodic, as she steps into view. Her dark hair is pulled back into a high ponytail, and her fitted cream blazer looks like it walked off the pages of a fashion magazine.

“Bianca,” I reply, feeling a smile creep onto my face despite the nerves twisting in my stomach.

She closes the distance between us in a few graceful strides and pulls me into a quick hug. Her perfume—something floral and expensive—lingers in the air as she steps back.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” she says, her smile genuine. “I’ve been dying to show you this place. Isn’t it amazing?”

“It’s stunning,” I admit, glancing around again at the sweeping views of the Las Vegas Strip visible through the floor-to-ceiling windows. “It’s very... you.”

Bianca laughs, a light and easy sound. “Daddy insisted on the best, as usual. Come, sit.”

She leads me to a plush white couch that looks like it belongs in an art gallery, gesturing for me to sit beside her. I place my portfolio on my lap, gripping it like a lifeline.

“So,” Bianca begins, leaning back with the kind of confidence that only she can pull off, “this gala. It’s going to behuge. And there’s no one else I trust to make it happen but you.”

My best friend’s words are warm and encouraging, but they don’t quite shake the weight of the moment. “You’re sure?” I ask cautiously, glancing down at the folder in my lap.

Bianca tilts her head, her smile softening. “Mia, you’ve planned events that people still talk about. That charity gala last spring? Genius. The vineyard wedding? Flawless. This is no different. You’ve got this.”

I nod slowly, trying to absorb her confidence. “You said this is for your father?”

Bianca’s expression shifts, her smile turning a little mischievous. “Yes. Daddy’s hosting it. And let me warn you, he’s not easy to impress. But once he sees what you can do? He’ll love you.”

Her mention of Carlito Marcelli sends a ripple of unease through me. His name carries weight, even outside of Las Vegas. From what little I know, he’s a powerhouse in business—a man whose presence demands attention.

“What’s he like?” I ask, trying to sound casual.

Bianca smirks. “Commanding. Intense. The kind of man who can walk into a room and own it without saying a word. He’s a perfectionist, Mia, but he respects talent. And you’re the best.”

I swallow hard, her words settling over me. No pressure.

Bianca smiles like it’s all so simple, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “You’ll be fine. Just keep your ideas sharp and your confidence sharper. Daddy respects people who can stand their ground.”

“Easy for you to say,” I mutter, but my tone is light.

She laughs, the sound bright and unbothered. “Come on, Mia. You’ve handled way worse clients than Daddy.”

“Have I, though?” I raise an eyebrow, my voice tinged with teasing disbelief.

She rolls her eyes. “You planned a wedding where the bride insisted on live peacocks during the ceremony. If you survived that, you can handle this.”

I chuckle despite myself, the memory of that chaotic day flickering in my mind. “Fair point,” I admit, but the knot in my stomach doesn’t fully unwind.

Bianca stands, her movements fluid and purposeful, and crosses to the glass coffee table. She picks up a folder, the Marcelli crest embossed in gold on the cover, and hands it to me.

“Here,” she says, settling back into the couch as I take it. “The guest list, the initial budget, and a few notes from Daddy’s assistant. It’ll give you a sense of what you’re working with.”

I flip the folder open carefully, my eyes scanning the pages. The guest list alone is intimidating—a who’s who of influential figures from politics, business, and entertainment.

“This is serious,” I murmur, the weight of the task pressing a little heavier.

“Of course it’s serious,” Bianca replies lightly, as if it’s obvious. “But that’s why I called you. Daddy doesn’t trust just anyone with something this important.”

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