Dark Mafia Bride: Chapter 10

The house buzzes with quiet activity as I stride into the drawing room where every member of this household has gathered. Twenty of my staff stand in a neat row, eyes alert and shoulders stiff. Leonardo and Antonio are bickering about something, but their voices fall silent the moment they spot me.

“My fiancée will arrive in a few days,” I state firmly.

I notice the shocked expressions on my staff’s faces, despite their efforts to conceal it.

“C-congratulations, sir.” Paula, the head maid, manages a small smile.

“Who gave you permission to speak?” Zia Camilla snaps.

“A-Apologies ma’am,” Paula stammers, fidgeting with her hands and casting her eyes to the floor.

I glance over at Zia Camilla. She sits primly with her hands folded in her lap, dressed in luxurious silk pajamas. It’s just minutes before her bedtime—I know because she adheres to a strict routine—yet she wears pearls around her neck and matching earrings dangling from her lobes.

My gaze sweeps across the rest of the family scattered on the sofa beside her. Vittorio slouches on a single couch, casually flipping through a random magazine. Aunt Francesca and Aunt Marta huddle together as usual. With only a year between them, they could easily be mistaken for twins given how they always stick together. As a child, I actually thought they were twins until my father pointed out that Aunt Marta is a year older than Aunt Francesca.

Leonardo, Antonio, and Bianca sit on another sofa to my left. I’m surprised not to see Bianca’s phone anywhere in sight. However, her boredom is clear as she flicks her dark hair behind her shoulder and stifles a yawn.

“I expect this household to be ready to welcome her when she arrives,” I continue, directing a pointed look at my aunts. “That includes ensuring the wedding preparations are in order.”

“Wedding preparations?” Aunt Francesca frowns. “Isn’t she supposed to be introduced to the family first?”

“The wedding is in three days.”

Murmurs ripple through the room. Zia Camilla sits up even straighter, if that’s possible, fixing me with a sharp look.

“Three days?” Aunt Marta asks, incredulously.

I raise an eyebrow. “Did I stutter?”

“Of course not. But isn’t that a bit too soon?”

“You can plan a stellar wedding in three days. Or is that too much for you to handle?”

“Of course not.” She looks almost insulted by my question. Her lips curl into a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “It will be the wedding of the year. Everything will be perfect.”

“That’s what I want to hear.”

I turn to the staff. “You will double your efforts around the house. Everything has to be flawless to welcome my bride. I want no mistakes.”

Murmurs of “Yes, sir,” echo around the room.

I inhale before slipping my hands in my pockets. “You are dismissed.”

As the staff rushes out of the room, I turn to face my family. I know the conversation isn’t over yet, and out of courtesy, I’m giving them one last chance to express their opinions, no matter how annoying they might be, before Mirabella arrives.

“What’s with the rush, Ettore?” Zia Camilla asks, feigning concern. Something glimmers in her eyes as she adds, “Did you get her pregnant? Is that why this marriage discussion suddenly came out of nowhere?”

At the tightening of my jaw, she hastily explains, “It’s just that you’ve always been so against marriage in the past…”

“You mean when you tried to set me up with the women you handpicked for me to marry?” I reply.

“I was only trying to help.” She glances at her sisters before continuing, “We all were. But once we realized you didn’t want to get married, we backed off. So now this…I can only assume something serious prompted you to make this decision.”

“And you jumped to the conclusion of pregnancy?” Leonardo chuckles. “What if our dear cousin fell in love?”

That earns a laugh from my brother and the rest of my cousins, but Zia Camilla doesn’t find it amusing. Her eyes narrow as she snaps, “It wouldn’t be the first time someone got pregnant out of wedlock in this family, would it? At least Ettore is being honorable about it, unlike your father…”

Leonardo’s smile disappears just as Aunt Marta sits up straight.

“Why would you say that to my son’s face?” she demands.

Zia Camilla chuckles, undeterred by Aunt Marta’s anger. “Because it’s the truth. You should be grateful our brother didn’t throw you out into the streets after your attempt to tarnish our family’s name…”

A tension-filled silence follows her words. Antonio shifts in his chair while Bianca leans her head on her brother’s shoulder, hiding her face in her hair. Vittorio glances up from his magazine, briefly looking at me as if questioning why I’m not stopping the argument. When I return his gaze with a blank expression, he sighs and goes back to the page in front of him.

Meanwhile, Aunt Marta’s knees bounce uncontrollably as Aunt Francesca pats her shoulders in an attempt to calm her down.

“Camilla…you should let this go. It’s been ages,” she says softly, trying to soothe her.

“If anyone hasn’t let it go, it’s Marta.” Zia Camilla shrugs. “I’m not the one boiling with anger. I just answered a question the boy asked…”

Leonardo’s sharp chuckle cuts through her sentence.

“You’re just a sick, bitter widow.”

The look on Zia Camilla’s face is almost comical. Her eyes widen in shock as she sputters, “Excuse me?”

“Even before your husband died, he hated your guts. He only married you for your money and status, and even that wasn’t enough to keep him. He wanted a divorce, and when you wouldn’t grant him one out of shame for what people would say, he cheated on you with a younger woman, had kids with her, and brought them to your matrimonial home…”

“You little⁠—”

“Your husband’s family accepted them because they hate you, too,” Leonardo continues with a dark chuckle. “Even your children never call or visit. I’m guessing they don’t want your poisonous attitude rubbing off on their kids. You should be grateful that your brother took you in after your terrible marriage nearly tarnished the Greco name…”

“You bastard…”

“Enough.” My sharp voice booms across the room.

Zia Camilla’s face flushes with rage, while Leonardo wears a look of satisfaction. I still have work to do tonight, so I don’t have time for this argument to drag on.

“No one is pregnant, this wedding will proceed exactly as planned, and there will be no more discussion on the matter.”

As I turn to leave, the argument erupts behind me, louder than before. I retreat to my office in the west wing of the mansion, far from the noise, and close the heavy oak doors behind me.

I barely have time to sit before my phone buzzes, and the name on the screen sends a wave of memories crashing over me.

“Word in the air is that you’re getting hitched.” Dario’s voice floats through my ear the moment I answer the call.

I chuckle despite myself. “Is that why you called at this hour?”

“Hey! I just got the invitation from your assistant. I wanted to make sure it wasn’t a prank.” He laughs over the line.

“The same way I was shocked when you married Ginevra. How is she, by the way?” I ask.

Ginevra is the woman who managed to bring my old friend, a ruthless businessman with underground ties like mine, to his knees.

“She’s fine, and don’t try to change the subject. We’re talking about you here. Don’t get me wrong; I’m happy for you. Being married is great…”

I roll my eyes.

“…but I can’t believe you want to become a family man. You were the one who reminded me how dangerous it is to raise a family in a world like ours, and I’m not even as deep as you are. You basically run the underworld. Heck! You’re even more powerful than I am, and I’m the reason you’re alive today.”

“You always have to remind me, don’t you?” I chuckle, though the sound is humorless.

His words pull me back to years ago, before I took control of the Greco empire, before I became The Reaper. My father had just died, and at just eighteen, I became a target for the mafia bosses and gang leaders with whom my father had dealt. They wanted me gone. They wanted to take over the Greco empire.

I’d been invited to a bar to meet my father’s friends, who claimed they wanted to help me out. They knew I didn’t have much experience in the business world, and they’d offered their assistance. When I arrived at the location, Dario, a street thug at the time, pulled me back just before I entered the bar. He revealed that he’d overheard some men’s conversation as they entered the bar. They’d planned to kill me—powerful men lying in wait for an eighteen-year-old boy.

Dario saved me that night and taught me how to survive in the darkest corners of our world. We became close, but as we grow older, our paths diverged. I became The Reaper, the king of the underworld, while Dario immersed himself in various businesses and the corporate world. Yet, despite our differences, we’ve remained bound by loyalty and the friendship we still share.

“Having a family means you now have a weakness, Ettore,” Dario says, his tone darkening. “You may not be as involved as you used to be, but these rivals won’t rest until they take you down. To them, you’re still The Reaper—their biggest threat.”

“I’ll be fine, Dario,” I reply with a chuckle, even though it feels hollow. “Being a family man sure has made you worry too much. You know who I am. I never let my guard down.”

He chuckles before offering his parting words and hanging up.

I stare at the wall opposite me as his words echo in my mind. It feels like no matter how hard I try—getting married to clean up my image, limiting my involvement in mafia affairs to strictly underground dealings—I can’t change who I am.

The Reaper.

I’m still staring at the wall when Luca walks in, his face set in its usual blank expression.

“Everything is in place, sir,” he says, closing the door behind him. “I’ve sent men to watch over Mirabella’s house. They’ll bring her family to the estate tomorrow.”

“Good.” I sigh and lean back against my seat.

As Luca turns to leave, my mind fills with images and memories of Mirabella. For some reason, picturing her distracts me from Dario’s nagging voice. The sound of her laughter and the memory of her smile bring a much-needed calm to my chest.

I close my eyes with only one thought in mind: I can’t wait for my bride to come home.