Page 47 of Dark Mafia Bride

She shakes her head, as if trying to wrap her mind around everything. “No...you can’t...you’re not...”

“But I am,” I cut in. “I am the man you’re marrying.”

She steps back as I move forward.

A smirk curls my lips as I reveal her reality. “In less than one hour, you will be my wife.”

15

MIRABELLA

Ionly had a total of thirty-seven minutes before the devil came for me.

And I was rendered speechless to find out that the devil is Ettore.

I can barely breathe as I watch him. He’s wearing a sharp suit that hugs his frame perfectly. His hair looks disheveled, las if he’s been running his hands through it in frustration, and my heart stumbles as I take in the hard lines of his clean-shaven jaw.

‘In less than one hour, you will be my wife.’

His words echo relentlessly in my head as I stare, dazed.

This can’t be real. The man I’ve been dreaming about—the one I couldn’t shake no matter how hard I tried—is standing here, and I’m supposed to marry him?

“Mira, don’t you know him?” Nonna’s voice pulls me out of my thoughts, grounding me back to reality.

I blink, turning toward her, quickly scanning her and the rest of my family to make sure they’re unharmed.

“I didn’t hurt them,” Ettore says, his voice low but tense.

My frustration breaks through, and I find myself glaring at him. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why hide who you were? Why didn’t you just reveal yourself?”

Ettore’s expression remains calm, but there’s a flicker of something in his eyes. He calls for Luca, who enters promptly, casting a quick glance at me before focusing on his boss.

“Take Mirabella’s family to the dressing room,” Ettore instructs. “She’ll join them once we’re done talking.”

“Mira...” My mother’s voice is soft but filled with worry.

I nod stiffly. “It’s fine. Just go with him.”

There’s no point resisting anyway. With Ettore, things always seem to go his way.

As Luca leads Nonna, Mamma, and Giulia out of the backroom in the chapel, anger builds in me, hot and sharp. The door barely closes behind them before Ettore speaks.

“I wanted to keep things professional, especially since things had already gotten complicated between us,” he begins, his voice tight. “It was business. You read the contract, had no objections, and signed it. I didn’t think it would be an issue.”

I scoff, the sound humorless. “You didn’t think it would be an issue? I was losing my mind trying to figure out who I was even marrying. I felt...unsafe, like I was selling my soul. Which, in a way, I am. Did any of that cross your mind?”

He doesn’t answer, and suddenly, it all clicks. “Luca came to me at the club that night. I saw you later that evening. You were watching me, weren’t you? You sent your lapdog after me. When I asked if you were following me, you lied. You’ve been playing me from the start!” My voice bounces off the empty walls, filling the room.

Ettore clenches his jaw and steps closer. “I didn’t know how you’d react if I showed myself earlier. I couldn’t risk it.”

“Because you knew there was no way I’d agree to marry a murderer, right?” The word slips out, and I shiver, feeling the weight of it in this place.

This whole situation feels wrong...surreal even. Us talking about murder in a church, me being minutes away from marrying the said murderer.

“Like I said,” he replies, his eyes darkening. “It’s just business.”

Frustration knots in my throat, making it hard to breathe. I take a shaky breath, and the words come out before I can stop them.

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