Page 34 of Dark Mafia Bride

I fall silent, and her expression softens. She places a hand on my cheek, her voice trembling. “I hate that you felt you had to do this for us,piccola mia.”

“Don’t, Nonna. It is not your fault.” I hold her hand to my cheek, feeling the warmth and strength in her touch. “I didn’t sell my soul or anything…it’s just marriage. So what if he’s…older?” I grimace, feeling my face heat up. “Women marry older men all the time, right? And he’s…he’s rich. He’ll help us. That’s the important thing, right?”

Nonna studies me, her face a mix of worry and resignation. “Are you really sure, Mirabella?”

I let out a long sigh, nodding. “Yes. I am.”

Nonna nods slowly, as if trying to convince herself. Giulia just looks at me with wide eyes, half bewildered, half amused, like she’s caught in the middle of some absurd dream. If I were her, I’d probably be laughing, too—her sister announcing her engagement to a stranger at the crack of dawn.

Nonna clears her throat, her tone sharpening slightly. “I’m still not giving my consent to this, but I understand that you’re an adult capable of making her own decisions.”

“Thank you, Nonna,” I say, my voice thick with emotion.

“Ah, don’t thank me. I still wish I could smack your head right now for even considering this!” She huffs, but there’s a hint of affection in her exasperation.

“And the men outside, they are…?” Guilia asks.

My stomach drops. I’d almost forgotten about them.

I glance between my grandmother and sister. I can’t tell them that they have to move in with us today, not after I just broke the news of my strange marriage to them. I expect them to get used to the idea first before anything else happens.

“They’re…here to take me,” I admit, keeping my voice soft. “The wedding is in three days…”

“Three days?” Giulia’s voice is a mix of disbelief and panic, while Nonna just stares at me, her eyes glassy, searching my face.

I exhale, trying to keep my voice steady. “There’s no time to explain everything right now, but I’ll see you both at the wedding—and after that, we’ll all be together again.”

Giulia shakes her head, her eyes darting between me and Nonna. “This is absolute bonkers! I must have fallen asleep on the couch watching those ridiculous rom coms again,” shemutters. “Someone pinch me so I can wake up and pretend this isn’t happening!”

Before I can say anything, a firm knock echoes from the front door, the sound pressing down on us like a weight.

“Please don’t worry.” I give them a reassuring smile. “I’ll make sure everything’s ready for you when it’s time for you to join me. This…it’s all going to work out.”

But as I hug them goodbye, I can see the doubt and fear in their eyes. The image stays with me even as I walk out the door, past the waiting men, and into a life I can only hope I’ll survive.

“I’ll go with you now,” I say, lifting my chin, “but my family stays here. I just told them, and they need some time to adjust. They’ll come after the wedding.”

They exchange glances, Luca’s jaw tightening briefly before he gives a small nod. “Fine.”

With a stiff nod of my own, I head back inside to pack a few essentials. My mom is still sleeping peacefully, and I ask Nonna to break the news gently once she wakes up. After hugging Giulia and Nonna goodbye, I steel myself and step out the door.

My heart pounds as Luca and his men guide me to the sleek BMW parked opposite our small house. The plush leather scent fills the car as I slide into the back seat, and I clutch my hands together, my palms sweating as I stare at the back of the driver’s head, wondering how my life had spiraled into this.

The silence in the car feels oppressive, as if I’m being driven into a beautiful prison. Luxury or not, this feels like a cage made of golden bars.

The drive is eerily quiet, and by the time we reach the estate, a tight knot of anxiety has settled in my chest. The place is like something out of a fairy tale—massive, with perfectly trimmed lawns and stone walls that tower over everything. The car glides up a winding drive, finally stopping before a mansion that’smore like a palace. I spot uniformed staff bustling about, their movements precise and efficient.

Luca opens the door, and I step out, my legs slightly unsteady. Two men, likely butlers, approach the car’s trunk, their faces briefly puzzled when they notice the only luggage I have is the small leather shoulder bag clutched in my hands.

The large doors open, and the grandeur of the place takes my breath away. Marble floors gleam under the light from an enormous chandelier, and I have to stop myself from gawking at the intricate artwork on the walls. Everything looks pristine, like a place untouched by real life.

Two maids approach me, one of them an older woman who wears a soft smile that reminds me of my mother. My chest tightens, and a wave of homesickness hits me—it hasn’t even been an hour, and I miss them already.

“Welcome, ma’am. It’s lovely to have you here,” the older woman says gently. “I’m Paula, and this is Clara. She’ll help you settle in.”

“Nice to meet you,” I reply, my smile polite but uncertain.

Clara reaches for my bag, and I follow them as they lead me through the house. We end up in what looks like the living room, except it’s larger than my entire house. The furniture looks expensive, the artwork on the walls likely priceless. It’s a far cry from my reality, yet something about it stirs a bittersweet feeling in me.

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