Page 32 of Dark Mafia Bride

He chuckles before offering his parting words and hanging up.

I stare at the wall opposite me as his words echo in my mind. It feels like no matter how hard I try—getting married to clean up my image, limiting my involvement in mafia affairs to strictly underground dealings—I can’t change who I am.

The Reaper.

I’m still staring at the wall when Luca walks in, his face set in its usual blank expression.

“Everything is in place, sir,” he says, closing the door behind him. “I’ve sent men to watch over Mirabella’s house. They’ll bring her family to the estate tomorrow.”

“Good.” I sigh and lean back against my seat.

As Luca turns to leave, my mind fills with images and memories of Mirabella. For some reason, picturing her distracts me from Dario’s nagging voice. The sound of her laughter and the memory of her smile bring a much-needed calm to my chest.

I close my eyes with only one thought in mind: I can’t wait for my bride to come home.

11

MIRABELLA

The low rumble of a car engine outside my bedroom window pulls me from sleep. I groan, sitting up in bed, still foggy and tired. Why are nights so short? Why can’t I just sleep as long as I want? I rub my eyes, adjusting to the soft morning light filtering through the curtains. Peeling back the worn fabric, I frown as I spot a sleek black sedan parked right outside my house.

What in the fuck is a black sedan doing in front of my house?

Cars like that don’t belong in this neighborhood, so it can only mean a few things, none of them good. Has Abruzzi sent his men here? It’s his style to play dirty, especially now that he’s realized his hold on me is slipping, all thanks to my supposedly invincible and terrifying husband-to-be.

The second thought that hits me—they’re here for me.

My throat tightens as two men step out of the car dressed in black suits, looking as rigid as stone. They step away from the car and head toward my front door, and that’s when I recognize Luca trailing behind them, walking with his usual measured steps.

Why the hell are they here so early? I glance at the clock on my wall—6:14 am. My heart pounds as I push off the blanket, scrambling out of my room just as the first heavy knock shakes the front door. Panic surges through me, knotting in my throat.

They’ve come to take us—me and my family—and I haven’t told anyone a thing. How am I supposed to explain that I’m getting married to a man I don’t even know? I knew I’d have to do it eventually, but not today. When Luca mentioned we’d need to move into my “husband’s” house, I didn’t expect them to show up at 6:14 in thefreakingmorning.

Taking a shaky breath, I reach the door and crack it open. Two men in black suits stare back at me, tall and as stiff as soldiers. The one with dark hair and a thick beard speaks first.

“Miss Ricci?”

I clear my throat. “Yes?”

“We’re here to escort you and your family to your new home,” he says simply.

My throat goes dry. I’d hoped to have more time to break this insane news to my family. There’s no way I’m dragging them out to some unknown place with these three intimidating men without even a warning. I slip outside, carefully closing the door behind me.

“I...I haven’t told my family yet,” I stammer, my voice shaky. “You’ll need to leave. I’ll...uh...get them ready, and we’ll come later.”

Luca, who has been standing back, steps forward. “We have strict instructions to bring you and your family with us. Today,” he says in that familiar monotone voice.

I scoff, crossing my arms over my chest. “Tell your boss he can’t just expect me to uproot my family in a flash.” My voice is firm, but inside I’m panicking.

Luca doesn’t even blink. I let out a soft groan, glancing back inside to make sure everyone’s still asleep.

“Look,” I sigh, “I know I signed the contract and all, but I need a little more time to explain this...situation to them.”

“We have orders not to return without you and your family,” Luca repeats, sounding like a broken record.

I’m about to throw another snappy response his way when I hear soft footsteps behind me.

“Mirabella? Who are you talking to?” Giulia’s sleepy voice floats down the hall. I turn just in time to see her standing there, rubbing her eyes and looking annoyed, like she’s mad her sleep got cut short. Nonna isn’t far behind her, tightening her robe as she watches the scene with growing curiosity in her eyes as she pulls her robe tighter around herself.

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