Page 67 of Dark Mafia Bride

I manage to laugh, even as my chest tightens. “It’s not like that. Promise.”

I’m not lying, but he’s not wrong, either.

Alessia narrows her eyes. “Then what’s it like? Living in this gorgeous house, married to a billionaire?”

I force a smile and hope to God it looks real. “It’s...amazing. He takes care of me and my family, and he loves me.” I lie through my teeth.

Alessia squeezes my hand, looking at me earnestly. “You know I won’t judge you if you married him for his money, right? I mean, who wouldn’t be tempted if a billionaire came along?”

A real laugh slips out. “No, it’s not about the money.”

It totally is.

Giovanni sighs, his voice softening. “Look, as long as you’re safe, we’re happy for you. But if he’s forcing you into anything…”

“He’s not,” I assure him. “Really, I’m happy. Or don’t I look it?”

“You actually do,” Alessia teases, grinning. A mischievous gleam in her eyes. “You’re glowing. I’m assuming you’ve, um,sealed the deal...”

“Oh my God,” I groan, covering my face as Giovanni cringes. “I do not want to discuss that! Anyway, enough about me. What have you two been up to?”

Alessia rolls her eyes. “Trying to dodge, huh?”

“Yep.” I smirk. “Now spill.”

They finally give in, telling me all about their trip and how Alessia’s grandmother bluntly told them she wants grandkids soon.

I laugh as Alessia recalls explaining to her that they’re not exactly ready for marriage, only for her religious grandmother to say she didn’t care as long as they had babies.

For the next hour, I joke with my friends, feeling more relaxed than I have in weeks. For a little while, I forget I’m Mrs. Greco.

My first dayof college arrives faster than expected. Stepping onto campus feels surreal—tall buildings, the bustling energy of students, the hum of a hundred voices blending into the kind of chaos I missed. Here, I’m just Mirabella, an International Relations major.

In one of my classes, I sit next to a guy named Milo. He’s American, with a crooked smile and a laid-back attitude that instantly puts me at ease.

“So, what’s your story?” he asks, giving me a curious look after one of our lectures is over.

“Story?” I chuckle, raising an eyebrow.

“There’s something about you,” he says, grinning. “You don’t seem like just any regular gal.”

I laugh. “Oh, I’m as regular as it gets, Milo.”

“Uh-huh.” He glances at my hand. “That rock on your finger says otherwise.”

I almost forgot about my wedding ring. I’d thought about leaving it at home for a ‘normal’ college experience but decided against it. Ettore made it clear that everyone, everywhere, should know I’m married.

“So, married girls aren’t normal?” I ask, amused as I watch his cheeks turn red.

“N-no, I didn’t mean it like that,” he stammers, laughing. “That was sexist. Don’t tell me I’ve already blown my chance of being your friend.”

I chuckle. “You’re forgiven. We’re friends now, Milo.”

The rest of the week is jam-packed with lectures and college events, but I finally squeeze in a visit home for the weekend to stay the night.

From the outside, our old house looks just the same, except for a few repairs—new windows, fresh light bulbs on the porch, and a fixed door handle. The moment I step inside, it feels like slipping into a favorite old sweater. Nonna’s cooking fills the air, warm and familiar, and Giulia’s laughter echoes from the next room.

“Mira!” Giulia bounds toward me, practically bouncing on her toes. “I have a boyfriend!”

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