Page 28 of Dark Mafia Bride

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 mygaze, 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. Ashaky 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 myhusband.

“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.

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