Page 35 of Dark Mafia Vows

“Since you have no objections?—”

“I won’t be moving in with you,” she exclaims.

I pull at my tie again, the tightness serving as a reminder of my resolve. “And I won’t repeat myself. Be packed and ready by tomorrow. Or I swear to god, I’ll make you regret it.”

The finality in my voice leaves no room for argument, but her eyes blaze with a mix of defiance and hurt. Her chest rises and falls with each heavy breath as I turn to leave.

I can’t shake the feeling that what’s coming next is going to be deeper and more intense. As the door closes behind me, I wonder what our next encounter will bring, knowing it could change everything.

15

GINEVRA

Iglance out the tinted windows as the car glides through the quiet streets of the upscale suburb where Dario lives.

Large, modern houses with wide verandas stand in a row along the street, their owners’ expensive cars parked outside. Tall oak trees shade the roads, adding beauty to the neighborhood.

Now that I’m really looking at it, the environment is peaceful and serene, away from all the noise and bustle of the city. I can’t believe someone like Dario lives in a place like this. I always thought people—entitled brutes—like Dario thrived in the chaos and turmoil of the urban world. It makes no sense for him to live here.

The last time I was here, it was under very different circumstances. Just over a week ago, I’d come to confront Dario about a statement he’d released to the press. Now, I’m being driven to his house with all my belongings in the trunk. It feels like a nightmare.

After our argument yesterday, he stationed bodyguards around Lorenzo’s house to make sure I didn’t leave. Early this morning, he sent a car with his men to inform me that he wantedme and all my things brought to his house before noon. The man is a total psychopath.

My mind wanders as the houses zap past on either side of the car. The dull pain that has refused to leave my chest returns in full force as the memory of Lorenzo’s betrayal returns.

It stings that my brother chose to save the company by selling me off to the very man he’s been enemies with for years. I can’t fathom how he thought this was a solution. With the business on the brink of collapse, he must have felt he had no choice or options. But selling me like this? It’s a betrayal that cuts deep.

I stare out the window, watching the scenery blur into streaks of green and gold as I’m driven farther into the estate like a lamb being led to be slaughtered.

After hours of pleading and trying to reason with Lorenzo—begging him to back out or find some sort of loophole in whatever contract he signed with Dario—I reluctantly accepted my fate.

Soon, Dario and I will be married, bound by a contract that leaves me with no way out on my own terms. We’ll be stuck together for ten years. This isn’t just a marriage—it’s a literal prison.

My heart feels heavy, and I’m not in the mood for the small talk the driver attempts. Instead, my thoughts spiral into the uncertainty of what lay ahead living under Dario’s roof, at his mercy. I clench my fists in my lap, willing myself to stay calm.

When we finally slow down in front of the familiar black gates, I take a deep breath. Security lets us in, and the car slips into the compound. I look around, taking in the beautiful architecture and the well-maintained gardens surrounding the house.

The house stands tall and imposing, its modern design casting shadows in the bright afternoon sun. The car comes to a stop, and I am brought out of my reverie when one of Dario’smen who followed closely in a car behind us comes to open my door. My feet land firmly on the ground as I climb out, following his lead toward the steps leading up to the front door.

As I approach, I realize just how big this place is. We enter through the large doors, and I notice three uniformed house staff standing by the door with their arms behind their backs.

An elderly woman steps forward, greeting me with a warm smile.

“You must be Miss Ginevra Bianchi. I know you prefer Ginny,” she says softly. “Welcome, ma’am.”

Even though I hate that I’m here, I can’t deny the warm atmosphere surrounding the house. “You can call me Rosa,” she says with a smile. “Don has told me so much about you. Come, dear, let me show you around.”

I bite my tongue to prevent me from asking her what he told her or why she calls him Don. Instead, I follow her in silence as she leads me through the house. It feels even bigger inside, with soft lighting highlighting the elegant decor.

“This is the living room,” Rosa says, gesturing to a large space filled with plush furniture and tasteful art. I can’t help but admire the way the light plays off the surfaces. She continues pointing out other features as she leads me through the hallways, stopping at intervals to show me different rooms.

We climb the stairs, and she shows me three of the four bedrooms in the house. As we reach a point halfway down the hallway, she points to a door at the end of the corridor.

“That’s the don’s room,” Rosa says softly, her voice soothing, like a balm on my raw nerves. “I’ve been instructed to take your things there.”

When I stay silent, she continues, a twinkle in her eye. “Don’t worry. He isn’t back yet. You know how busy he is.”

I ignore her knowing look. Does she realize I’m being forced into this situation, or does she genuinely believe Dario and I are in a loving relationship?

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