Page 56 of Dark Mafia Bride

“I think he’s not as bad as I thought him to be,” she admits, but hesitation lingers in her eyes. “But, Mirabella, I don’t want you to feel obligated to him just because he’s doing these things. If it means selling you off to this man, I’m ready to walk away from it all. I don’t care if I have to find a job at my age. I’m still strong, and I’ll figure out a way to support you. Together, we’ll pay off our debts. We’ll survive, just like we always have.”

Her words hit me like a tidal wave, leaving me momentarily speechless. Nonna has always been the pillar of our family, but to hear her offer to work just so I can escape…it breaks my heart. I grip her hand tighter as tears threaten to spill from my eyes.

“The real reason I turned down the new apartment he offered us is so you’ll have somewhere to run if things become too overwhelming,” she continues, her voice steady. “We need a place that isn’t tied to him. If you ever feel like you can’t stay with him anymore, you can always come home. You’ll always have a place with us.”

Her voice trembles slightly, and I feel a lump in my throat. I blink back tears, refusing to let them fall.

“Nonna, listen,” I say, my voice soft yet firm. “I’m okay. Ettore...he’s not like that. This marriage is for a greater good, and I’m not being taken advantage of, I promise.” I pause, searching for the right words to reassure her. “He’s a man of his word. It’s not as bad as it seems. I plan to enroll in college again and finish my degree. Our marriage may not be perfect or real, but something good is coming from it.”

Nonna’s eyes search mine, and slowly, a small smile begins to emerge. “College, eh? You’ve always wanted to go back to college. I’m glad you get to experience that. And as Giulia said, at least your husband isn’t old or ugly.”

We both laugh, and the knot in my chest loosens a little. It feels good to remind myself of the positives and why I accepted this arrangement in the first place.

“Vai a dormire presto,” she says, patting my cheek lovingly. “You’ve had a long day. It’s late, and I’m sure your mother is tired. We need to head home.”

We walk back toward the garden, and she leads me to the corner where Giulia and my mother are seated. I escort them to meet the driver Ettore assigned for them, bidding them farewell before watching as the car drives away.

Once they’re out of sight, the unease in my chest returns. I glance back at the garden, where the party continues, the low hum of voices and clinking glasses echoing in the distance. Exhaustion seeps into my bones, so I make my way back toward the garden, spotting Luca in the crowd. He stands near the edge of a table, his usual stoic expression watching over everything.

“Luca,” I call softly as I approach. He turns toward me, eyebrows slightly raised when he sees me. “Can you let Ettore know I’m heading in?”

His gaze flickers over to Ettore, who is deep in conversation with some guests. His posture is tense, and a serious expression is etched on his face. They’re likely discussing business, and I’m not in the mood to play the perfect wife and wait for him to finish.

“Of course,” Luca replies with a nod. “I’ll let him know.”

As I watch him walk away, I can’t help but feel a mix of anxiety and anticipation. The night may be winding down, but for me, the challenges are just beginning.

With that, I slip inside the main house, the noise of the party fading behind me. Just then, Clara passes by, and I’m hit with the memory of this morning’s events.

“Clara,” I call out.

She turns to look at me, and I notice her freeze for a moment before approaching.

“I’m sorry...about this morning. I wasn’t...I couldn’t...”

“It’s fine, ma’am,” she replies with an easy smile. “Like I told you, I understand how wedding mornings can be.”

I exhale in relief, appreciating her understanding.

“Can you lead me to my room?” I ask, even though I know the way. I just want to ease the tension between us. After all, she’s going to be my personal maid for the next year.

As she guides me up the stairs, the thought of spending the night in Ettore’s room flashes through my mind, and heat rises to my cheeks. If we were a normal couple, this would be the time when I’d retire, take a shower, and prepare for a special wedding night.

As we walk down the long corridor, I suddenly realize we’ve passed my room and are continuing forward.

“Uh...I think we are headed the wrong way,” I say, a hint of concern creeping into my voice.

Clara turns to me, confusion evident on her face. “Your things were taken to the boss’s room earlier,” she says carefully. “You are married to him now.”

Right. We need to make everyone believe this marriage is real.

But Ettore had promised! I’d laid out my terms and told him I wouldn’t be sleeping in the same room with him.

Clara’s gaze remains fixed on me, expectant, perhaps questioning why I’m hesitating. If anyone might not buy our sham of a marriage, it’s her. First, my escape attempt this morning, and now this?

I fumble for words, trying to explain the situation. “I...I think there’s been a misunderstanding. I’m not, uh, planning to...”

Before I can finish, a voice drips with ice from behind me. “Well, well, well. Why wouldn’t Ettore Greco’s wife want to sleep in her husband’s room?”

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