Page 36 of Dark Mafia Vows

“Don?” I ask, unsure what else to say.

“Yes, that’s what we all call him.” She chuckles, and I can’t help but smile at her warmth.

“I’ll leave you now,” she says after a moment. “Call me if you need anything.”

“Actually,” I blurt out before she walks away, “I’d like my things taken to another room.”

If Dario thinks being his fiancée means agreeing to everything he wants, he’s in for a shock.

Rosa’s eyes widen slightly, but she maintains a polite smile. “Of course. I’ll arrange to have them moved immediately. You can choose one of the other rooms.”

“Thank you,” I say, returning her smile.

As she heads downstairs, I walk toward the room farthest from Dario’s bedroom. I push the door open and stand in the doorway, taking in the simple but elegant decor. Soft colors and a large window overlooking a neatly trimmed garden greet me. I step inside and sit on the edge of the bed, staring blankly at the opposite wall, trying to process everything.

The thought of Dario marrying me as part of his revenge scheme feels twisted. Memories resurface of him and Lorenzo, once inseparable, laughing and playing football in our yard. I must have been five or six, while they were about seventeen. Back then, I imagined they’d be best friends for life. So what had happened? How had things gotten this bad?

Lorenzo refuses to tell me what went wrong, and I can’t help but wonder what he’s hiding. A low groan escapes as I fall back onto the bed, my eyes drifting up to the ceiling.

A knot tightens in my stomach as I replay our last conversation—the one before he left, and Dario’s men arrived to pack my things.

“Ginny, we could lose Papa’s company for good if you don’t do this,”Lorenzo had said, his voice heavy with pain and exhaustion.“I’m heading to the estate in Italy next week to discuss this with the rest of the family. So far, they don’t have any objections; as usual, they only care about their pockets and the family investment. But what about our young cousins, our elders? Are we really going to let those who come after us grow up without a legacy? They’ll be a laughingstock, and Papa will hunt me down from his grave.”

His words echo in my mind, slicing deeper with each repetition. I want to scream at him, to tell him how much I resent the choice he’s forcing upon me. But as much as I’d rather do anything else, I can’t let the Bianchi legacy crumble—not when I have the chance to save it.

Even though I’m still furious with him for practically selling me off, I would do anything for my brother. He’s all I have. He’s struggled for years, trying to live up to the impossible expectations Papa left behind. He’s taken the blame for every misstep, shouldering it all.

“I hate this, Enzo! I hate that I’m being sold off to that jerk like some pawn! You’re not even considering what this will do to me!”

“I know it’s unfair, Ginny,” he’d replied, pain etching his features. “But think of everything that’s at stake. I can’t shoulder this burden alone. You’re my sister, and you’re all I have left. We can’t let our family name die because of this.”

I’m beyond tired when I finally relax into the bed, closing my eyes in a futile attempt to escape reality. I pull the blankets tightly around me, but sleep evades me. My mind swirls with thoughts of what my new life will entail.

What will I lose if I go through with this? My dreams, my autonomy, my chance to choose love over obligation? The thought of surrendering to a life predetermined for me makes my heart ache.

Will I have any freedom? Will Dario attempt to control me the way Rinaldo did?

What do you think, Ginny?my inner voice mocks.

Of course he will.

A frustrated sigh escapes my lips. The man expects me to share a bedroom with him. We can’t even be in the same room without arguing. The thought of sharing a bed with Dario makes me cringe, yet a shiver of intrigue runs down my spine. I wonder what it would feel like to have his body pressed against mine, his hands sliding over my hips, pulling my back to meet his front...

Okay, let’s not go there.

I blow out a breath, turning to face the wall. A yawn escapes me. I’d gotten up early to pack my things from Lorenzo’s house. Though Dario’s men had come to handle the job, I’d insisted on packing my personal belongings myself before they’d loaded everything into the car.

Eventually, exhaustion wins, and I drift into a restless sleep filled with fragmented dreams of dark hair and emerald green eyes.

When I wake hours later, my throat is parched. It’s dark outside, and I wonder how long I’ve slept. I push myself up, rub my eyes, and decide to take a quick shower.

Like every other part of this house, the bathroom is lavish, with a marble floor that sparkles under the harsh fluorescent lighting. An inviting bath sits in the center of the room, and I long to sink into it.

Shaking my head, I undress before walking over to the shower. After a warm shower, I change into more comfortable clothes before deciding to go find some water in the kitchen. AsI tiptoe down the unfamiliar hallway, I can’t help the chill of fear that travels down my spine. I’m not necessarily scared of the dark, but I’m not used to this house, and the shadows creeping along the walls make me feel like I’m in a strange, unfamiliar world.

Soft light illuminates the staircase. I carefully descend and head toward the kitchen. The house is eerily quiet, and I assume all the domestic staff have retired for the night. A part of me wonders if they live here as is the case for most wealthy people.

I turn into the kitchen, and the sight before me stops me in my tracks. Dario stands there, his back to me, raising a bottle of water to his lips.

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