Page 17 of Dark Mafia Bride

“Am I?” He tilts his head slightly, studying me like a predator sizing up prey. “Do you think loan sharks care about your family’s well-being? They don’t. But my boss—he’s offering you a solution. Money, protection, freedom from the chaos swallowing you whole.”

My mind reels. “A million dollars?” I whisper, the sheer number clawing at the edges of my sanity.

He nods, his expression unchanging. “Enough to erase all your problems, isn’t it?”

“That’s…” I start, but my voice falters.

No. Not today, Satan.

I shake my head, trying to push through the fog of disbelief. My grandmother’s voice rings in my ears, reciting that story every Sunday morning and night after mass.

“Beware the devil’s deals, child,” she’d say. “They always seem like salvation, but they’re nothing but chains in disguise.”

Well, congratulations, Nonna. Looks like I found myself smack in the middle of one of those trickery fables.

And yet, I can’t shake the feeling that this is worse than some biblical parable. My brain spirals into darker territory: They’re going to kidnap me, aren’t they? Or worse…they want to harvest my kidneys and sell them on the black market.

I glance around the room, half-expecting a group of goons to emerge from the shadows with a chloroform-soaked rag. My breath quickens, and I force myself to lock eyes with the man in the suit, trying to mask the growing panic behind my glare.

“Who’s your boss?”

“That’s not important,” he says, brushing off my questions. “What is important is that this deal—this marriage—is your only way out.”

His words make my skin crawl, but they also strike a chord deep inside me.

“What’s the catch?” I ask finally, my voice barely audible.

“No catch,” he replies. “You marry him. Stay married for one year. At the end of it, you walk away with your life, your family intact, and more money than you’ve ever dreamed of.”

I narrow my eyes. “And I don’t even get to know his name?”

“You’ll meet him soon enough,” he says cryptically, pulling a sleek black card from his pocket. He slides it across the bar. “Think it over. You’ll find all the details here.”

“I don’t need to think it over,” I snap, pushing the card back toward him. “Tell your boss I’m not interested.”

He doesn’t flinch. “Abruzzi won’t hesitate to make an example of you, Mirabella. And if he can’t get to you…well, there’s your sister. How much do you think she’ll fetch if those debts remain unpaid? Or should I mention your grandmother? You know how these men operate,” he adds, leaning in closer.

The room around me feels suddenly colder, the air thicker. “Stop,” I hiss, my voice trembling.

He doesn’t. “What about your mother’s surgery and treatment? Her condition is worsening. You need two hundred thousand, at least. And what about your overdue debts to other…less patient lenders. Do you really need me to spell it out further?”

“Enough,” I snap, my hands trembling against the counter. “I’ll only repeat this once before I walk away. Who are you?”

“I’m simply a messenger,” he replies. “But I assure you, my boss can offer you protection—freedom from these chains in which you’ve wrapped yourself.”

The temptation of it slams into me like a tidal wave. It’s impossible, absurd even, but every word he says chips away at my resistance.

“I don’t even know who your boss is,” I say, clutching at the one thread of logic I can still hold.

“You will,” he says simply, sliding the card back across the counter. “If you reconsider.”

With that, he turns and disappears into the crowd, leaving me with a heart pounding out of rhythm and more questions than answers.

I stare at the card as if it might burn me. Giovanni rushes back the moment he’s gone.

“What did that snake want?” he demands, his eyes searching mine.

“He wants me to marry his boss,” I reply with a hollow laugh. “For one year. And he promises to fix…everything,” I say flatly, still staring at the card.

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