Dark Mafia Bride: Chapter 6

I see her the moment she walks into the room.

It’s like a magnetic pull, something invisible, but impossible to ignore. My eyes lock on her, and I can’t look away. Mirabella moves through the crowd, turning heads without even trying. I don’t blame them. She’s fucking sexy—undeniably the most gorgeous woman here.

She’s wearing this dress—tight in all the right places, catching the light with every step. Each movement she makes, I follow like a predator watching its prey. There’s something about her, something that sets her apart from every other woman in this room.

The others are perfect, polished, and practiced in how they stand, how they smile just enough to catch attention. They work too hard at it—trying to look flawless in their posture, their designer dresses, showing off the men hanging on their arms.

But Bella…she’s different. There’s a wildness to her, an effortless grace. She’s not trying to impress anyone; she just is. Every subtle move she makes pulls me in deeper. From the VIP section, hidden in the shadows, I sip my whiskey and watch her, grateful for the elevated view that lets me see everything.

Mirabella Ricci.

Did she really think she could slip away unnoticed? That she could sneak out of the hotel and disappear from my life? Did she honestly believe I wouldn’t track her down? Find out who she really is and uncover every single damning detail about her?

My mind flashes back to the report Luca handed me two days ago. I’d run a background check on her and her family. What I learned explained a lot—why she got mixed up with Abruzzi in the first place. Her mother’s sick, her grandmother’s old, and she’s got a younger sister still in high school. She’s balancing multiple jobs just to make ends meet. It’s no surprise she turned to that scumbag for money, especially when her mother needs expensive medication just to survive.

She’s too young to be carrying all that weight on her shoulders. Yet when I look at her, she doesn’t seem burdened, even though I know she is. She’s bold, daring, and full of life. And it only makes me want her more.

Plus, she’s so damn fucking sexy.

I watch the way she moves through the crowd—her steps are careful, yet full of purpose. Her silky, straight auburn hair falls past her shoulders, swishing around her with each step. When she reaches the bar, she orders a drink, and I’m fixated on the way her lips move as she talks to the bartender. An image of those lips wrapped around my dick flashes in my mind, and I shake my head, trying to clear the thought.

This is what she’s done to me. Turned me into some horny teenager who can’t stop thinking about sex.

I’ve tried to stop. I’ve tried convincing myself—lying to myself—that there’s nothing special about her. She’s just another woman, one who happened to be an amazing fuck. Yet here I am, watching her, thinking about how she felt in my arms, how I need to feel her again. And it’s not just about the sex. There’s something more—something deeper that makes me want to claim her, to own her.

Then she hugs him.

I was so focused on her, I didn’t even notice the guy walk in. I watch as she leans in and circles her arms around his neck. I watch the way her lips pull up into that beautiful smile of hers —that smile. The one I saw that night. And it sets something off inside me. It’s uncomfortable, burning in my gut, spreading like wildfire.

Jealousy.

I hate that word. I’ve trained myself to ignore certain emotions, to be unaffected by them. At least, I thought I had. But now, here I am, feeling jealous. And it’s because of her.

I clench my jaw, trying to shove the feeling down. What the hell is wrong with me? I’ve never been the type to get worked up over a woman. Not once. Yet seeing her with someone else, even if it’s just a hug, makes me want to tear him away from her. This primal possessiveness takes over, and all I can think about is reminding her who she was with that night.

Me.

She’s mine.

I know I have no right to feel this way. You can’t own a person. But for those hours we spent tangled together, my dick sliding in and out of her while she moaned my name, she was mine. I touched her in ways no one else has. I made her feel things no one else ever will. And right now, all I want is to walk over there, kiss her until she can’t breathe, and take her home to fuck her senseless.

Fuck this.

I stand abruptly, unable to tamp down the tension clawing at my chest. This is ridiculous. No woman has ever made me feel this…thirsty.

“Go,” I say to Luca, who’s been standing beside me the whole time.

After Luca dug up everything about Mirabella, I had the impulsive idea to propose the marriage offer to her. It’s probably one of the most reckless things I’ve ever done, but when it comes to Bella, I’ve learned that I can’t seem to think straight.

As Luca walks off, I head to a more private lounge. The loud music fades as I step into one of the soundproof rooms. I settle into the plush sofa and close my eyes. I usually come here on Friday nights to play poker, but tonight? Tonight I’m just hiding out after spending too much time watching her like a damned stalker.

Luca appears moments later, his shoulders tense and his jaw set. The look on his face tells me everything I need to know—the conversation didn’t go well.

“She didn’t take the offer, boss,” he says, his tone rough, like he’s been chewing on nails for the past five minutes.

I exhale, trying to mask the frustration bubbling beneath the surface, but there’s a twisted sense of amusement creeping in. Of course, she didn’t take it. She’s scared. I get it. But fear doesn’t last forever, and when she sees the bigger picture, she’ll understand.

“Did you really think she would?” I ask, leaning back in my chair, playing with the edge of my glass, my voice laced with irony.

Luca shakes his head, eyes flicking away. “No, but I figured…you know, the right amount of pressure could do the trick. I told her she didn’t have a choice.”

I laugh bitterly, rubbing my hand over my face. “Yeah, because telling her she has no choice always makes people really eager to sign on the dotted line.”

I stand backing him, the tension in my body obvious now. “She’ll learn soon enough, when Abruzzi’s men are breathing down her neck.”

Luca hesitates, then speaks up, voice steady. “Are you going to interfere, sir?”

I don’t need to. The debts? Her family? She’s too busy protecting them to see she’s walking into the fire.

I turn back to him, my eyes cold. “Don’t worry. She’ll come around. When things fall apart, she’ll have no choice but to take what I’m offering.”

Luca gives a curt nod. “You sure about that, sir?”

I fix him with a stare, my voice lethal. “She’ll call,” I say, taking a sip of my now-warm whiskey. I know she will. She’s in deeper than she can handle. Abruzzi is relentless when it comes to collecting his money, and after I killed his men, he’s even more pissed.

He’ll send more guys after her, but they won’t touch her. Not if they want to live. He knows I’m responsible for the deaths of his men, and while he’s ruthless, he’s not stupid. Unless he’s ready to lose every one of his men, he got the message.

Mirabella is untouchable.

The most he can do is scare her—and when that happens, she’ll come running straight to me.

“What do you think, Luca?” I ask, looking for a distraction. “Is she fit for the role?”

“She’s beautiful,” Luca says in that same gruff, robotic tone. “Smart, too. She’s hardworking and efficient. Qualities I’d say you need in a wife, sir.”

I consider his words. If—when—Mirabella marries me, she won’t need to work. I’ll take care of everything.

She may have the qualities of the perfect wife on paper, but this situation is anything but typical. I need someone who looks good next to me, someone with status and wealth, someone who can help solidify my image. Mirabella doesn’t fit that mold.

So why did I send Luca after her?

“You can leave,” I say, waving Luca off. I lean back into the sofa and close my eyes again, trying to ignore the mess of thoughts swirling in my head.

“Are you asleep?” I hear a soft whisper close to my ears.

The voice filters into my dream, and my eyes shoot open to see a pair of beautiful, dark brown eyes staring at me.

“Not anymore,” I respond in a gruff voice.

Mirabella bites her lower lip, and the sight shoots a sensation straight to my dick. That’s when I become aware of our naked bodies pressed together and the fact that her naked nipples are currently grazing my chest.

“Good,” she murmurs, leaning closer. “Because I want you to fuck me again.”

I grin, sliding one hand over her ass under the sheets.

“You have such a dirty mouth for someone who just lost her virginity,” I tell her with a husky laugh.

Her eyes flash in amusement and something else.

“I may never see you again, and I need to make the most out of tonight.”

My cock twitches in arousal, and I take a deep breath as she kisses my neck. Then I feel her hot breath on my ear as she whispers, “Fuck me, Ettore. Please…”

With a groan, I flip her over to her stomach before grabbing the complimentary condom from the bedside drawer and sliding it over my hard length. Then I lean down and gently kiss her back between her shoulder blades.

“Grab the headboard, kitten,” I tease softly as I slide two fingers into her pussy from behind. She moans into the sheets, making me impossibly harder than I already am. “I’m going to be rough this time around, so brace yourself.”

That seems to excite her because I feel her walls clench around my fingers. I pump her slowly, relishing the sound of her whimpers and the way she arches her ass off the mattress to meet my movements.

I slide my fingers out of her, and without warning, I position my dick at her entrance and slam into her. Her head bumps slightly into the headboard, and she lets out a muffled moan before grabbing the top of the headboard.

My fingers dig into the soft globes of her ass, holding her firmly as I thrust in and out of her. The sounds of her moans mix together with my grunts and the slap of our skin against each other.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” I rasp before pulling a handful of her hair and wrapping it around my fist.

My thrusts become harder as I pull her back flush against my chest. Mirabella digs her nails into my thighs as she screams out my name. I let out a guttural groan as she grinds her ass against my pelvis, her wet pussy squeezing my cock as I stretch it.

One hand slides to the front of her neck, gripping her throat loosely, while my other hand slides to her clit.

“Oh…fuck, yes!” She gasps and squirms in my arms.

I keep up with my ministrations, feeling my balls tighten with the urgent need to cum. Her body convulses in my arms and her nails dig deeper into my thighs as she climaxes. I ride her, slamming into her just as my orgasm hits me.

My body tenses, and I let out a rough grunt, slamming into her one last time. When we finally collapse onto the bed for the second time tonight, we’re completely spent, exhausted beyond words.

“I think I like sex a little too much,” Mirabella drawls as I pull her close, her body melting into mine.

My eyes flutter shut, a tired smile tugging at my lips. Just before sleep claims me, I hear her mutter, “Too bad you won’t see me when you wake up.”

And she was right. I woke up to find her gone.

A groan escapes my lips as my eyes snap open. I’m no longer in that hotel room with her soft body against mine. Instead, I’m alone in an empty club lounge, haunted by nothing but memories of her.

But I don’t plan to let it stay that way.