Forced To Marry The Mafia’s Rival Heir

Chapter 9

Clara’s POV

The message on my phone screen glowed like a venomous serpent in the dim light of the restaurant terrace, its words slithering into my mind: “Girlfriend? How sweet. But ask him about the crash, Clara. Before he proposes something deadlier.” My fingers went numb, the wine glass nearly slipping from my grasp. They were here; watching, listening, invading this fragile bubble of romance I'd carved out with Robins. The crash? What crash? My thoughts spun wildly, but I forced a smile, tucking the phone back into my clutch before Robins could notice the shift in my demeanor.

He was still gazing at me with that earnest intensity, his blue eyes reflecting the candlelight like twin sapphires. The proposal; his request to make us official hung between us like a delicate thread, taut with possibility and peril. I wanted to say yes right then, to leap into this whirlwind of affection that had consumed me since I'd first laid eyes on him at that party. But the secrets, the shadows... they held me back. "I promise, I'll think about it," I whispered, my voice laced with genuine emotion. "It's not a no, Robins. Just... give me a little time."

He nodded, though I caught the flicker of disappointment in his expression. Leaning across the table, he captured my hand again, his thumb tracing slow circles over my knuckles. "I understand. But don't keep me waiting too long, Angela. I just met you but I feel like I've been waiting for you my whole life." His words melted something inside me, a rush of heartfelt joy battling the dread from that message. We lingered a bit longer, the conversation drifting back to lighter topics; his quirky lab habits, my fabricated stories of campus life, but the evening's magic had been tainted.

When the bill came, Robins insisted on paying, his credit card flashing with that same air of understated wealth. We rose together, his arm slipping around my waist as he guided me toward the exit. The terrace air was cooler now, the city lights below twinkling like distant stars, mocking the storm brewing in my chest. At the door, he pulled me into a hug, his body warm and solid against mine. I inhaled his scent; clean, with a hint of sandalwood cologne and for a moment, I let myself forget everything else. His lips brushed my temple in a soft kiss. "Text me soon, okay? I need to know if this is real."

"It is," I murmured against his shoulder, my arms tightening around him. "I'll let you know soon. Promise." We parted reluctantly, his fingers lingering on mine until the last possible second. I hailed a cab, sliding into the back seat with a wave as he stood there, watching me go, his silhouette framed by the restaurant's glow. The drive home blurred in a haze of conflicting emotions; elation from the date, terror from the messages, and an overwhelming romantic joy that bubbled up despite it all.

Robins; Williams, as I now suspected his real name might be which it was, though I pushed that thought away was my crush, my obsession. The way he'd looked at me tonight, the laughter we'd shared, the dirty jokes that had us both flushed and giggling... it was everything I'd dreamed of during those lonely nights poring over his research papers. This would be my first real university relationship, a sliver of normalcy in my chaotic life as Clara Black, mafia princess disguised as Angela the student. I couldn't hold back anymore. The happiness gnawed at me, insistent and sweet, like a forbidden dessert.

As soon as the cab dropped me off and I stepped into my apartment, closing the parlor door behind me with a soft click, I pulled out my phone. My fingers flew across the screen, heart pounding with excitement. "Yes, Robins. A thousand times yes. Let's make this official. I can't wait to be your girlfriend. " I hit send, a giddy smile spreading across my face. This was it; us, together, against whatever shadows lurked. I felt bad for making him wait even those few hours; he didn't deserve the suspense. Leaning against the door, I let out a breathless laugh, imagining his reaction.

But as I moved toward my bedroom, passing the balcony, my joy faltered. The door to my father's office was half-open, a sliver of light spilling into the hallway like an accusation. Through the gap, I could see him;Donald Black, the iron-fisted leader of the Double Axe Mob pacing from one end of the room to the other. His face was a mask of fury, depression, and overwhelming stress, his fists clenched at his sides. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and his usually impeccable suit was rumpled, as if he'd been wrestling with demons all evening. He looked up, his sharp eyes locking onto mine through the c***k. "Clara," he barked, his voice low and commanding. "Come in here. Now."

My heart dropped into my stomach, shaky legs carrying me forward. I pushed the door open wider, stepping into the office that smelled of cigar smoke and old leather. The walls were lined with bookshelves hiding safes and weapons, a reminder of the life I couldn't escape. "Dad? What's wrong?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady, though my mind raced. Had he seen the messages? Did he know about Robins?

He stopped pacing, turning to face me fully, his expression thunderous. "I heard you have a lover now. And that you brought him here, to our home." His words hit like a slap, and I froze, my blood running cold. How did he know? Robins had only been here briefly that afternoon, a quick visit before he left. "What... what are you talking about?" I stammered, but he cut me off with a raised hand.

"Don't play games with me, Clara. I warned you about bringing people here. This house is a fortress for a reason; our enemies are everywhere. No outsiders, no risks. You know the rules." His eyes bored into mine, searching for deception. My heart hammered; the guard must have told him. One of the house guards had seen Robins leave, perhaps. Curiosity built inside me; was that guard the one spying on me, sending those blocked messages? But I flung the thought away; it seemed too obvious. No, it had to be someone closer, maybe tied to my family or even Robins'. Someone who knew my real name, my secrets.

"I... it was just a friend from campus," I lied, my voice trembling. "Nothing serious. I didn't think…"

"Save it," he snapped, rubbing his temples as if warding off a headache. "We have bigger problems tonight. Come with me to the council room. There's a meeting, and you need to be there. It's time you learned more about leading this family." He didn't wait for my response, striding past me toward the long meeting room adjacent to his office. I followed shakily, my heels clicking on the hardwood floor, the emerald dress suddenly feeling too exposed, too frivolous for whatever darkness awaited.

The council room was dimly lit, a massive oak table dominating the space, surrounded by my father's most trusted men. John, his consigliere and my uncle, sat at one end, his face grim. Other lieutenants hardened faces I'd known since childhood nodded as we entered. My father took his seat at the head, gesturing for me to sit beside him. "We're plotting against the Scorpiono Mafians," he announced without preamble, his voice laced with venom. "Tonight, we end Richard Stone."

My heart plunged further, a cold dread seizing me. Richard Stone; Williams' father? Robins' father. No, this couldn't be happening. Not now, when I'd just accepted him, when our love story was blooming. "Dad, wait," I blurted, my voice cracking. "Why? Can't we negotiate? The Stones... they're powerful, but maybe."

He shot me a suspicious glance, his eyes narrowing. "Negotiate? Since when do you care about the Scorpiono scum? They've stolen from us again; the Venom shipment, our most prized drug. It's synthetic gold, addictive as hell, and they intercepted it before our suppliers could deliver. This is the second time this month. They're toying with us, underestimating the Double Axe Mob. But no more. We end this war tonight, with Richard's head."

I tried to pitch in again, desperation clawing at me. "But killing him... it could escalate everything. Think about the fallout, the families involved." My words faltered under his glare. He was suspecting something; I could see it in the way his jaw tightened.

Before he could press me, my phone buzzed in my clutch; a text from Robins. I glanced discreetly: "You just made me the happiest man alive! Can't wait to see you tomorrow. " Warmth flooded me briefly, but I hid the phone quickly, shoving it deeper into my bag. My father's eyes flicked toward the sound, suspicion deepening, but he didn't comment.

John cleared his throat, drawing attention. "Boss, we've got an inside man. Salvatore De Luca, Richard's consigliere. He's snitching because of old grudges." He leaned forward, explaining the backstory that twisted my gut further. Salvatore had been in love with Maria Stone; Richard's late wife, my aunt through my mother's side. She'd chosen Richard for his wealth and power, leaving Salvatore heartbroken. When Maria died because of cancer years ago, Salvatore's rage festered. John, Maria's brother and thus my uncle, had his own vendetta; he'd brought Salvatore into the fold, promising mutual revenge. "Salvatore's been feeding us intel. Tonight, Richard's meeting a supplier at an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts. Just him and Salvatore. We strike there." John said, with a hard face.

My father nodded approvingly. "Bring Salvatore here first. I want the full breakdown."

Moments later, the door opened, and John escorted Salvatore in; a tall, brooding man with dark eyes and a scar across his cheek, exuding a dangerous charisma. He scanned the room, his gaze lingering on me a beat too long, sending an unwelcome shiver down my spine. They dove into the plan: John would lead a team of five; Bill, Federico, Thomas, Cesaro, and Lucas. Approach from the back, enter through a second-floor window for surprise. Capture Richard alive if possible, but end him if necessary. The room buzzed with fierce energy, my father's men cheering the strategy. "This solidifies our dominance," Donald declared, pounding the table. "Venom back in our hands, the Scorpiono broken."

I sat there, frozen, hearing every detail but powerless to stop it. My mind screamed; Robins would be shattered, our budding relationship crushed before it began. This was my first taste of campus love, innocent and thrilling, now threatened by the mafia legacies that bound us unknowingly. Fear and confusion paralyzed me; I couldn't reveal my connection without endangering everything.

As the men rose, set to go, Salvatore lingered. He approached me slyly while the others huddled by the door, his hand brushing mine in a twisted, sneaky romantic gesture. He twisted my wrist gently but possessively, leaning in close enough that his breath tickled my ear. "I've been the one sending you those messages, Clara," he whispered, his voice a low, menacing purr. "And this is just the beginning."

My blood turned to ice, the suspense in his words hanging like a noose as he pulled away, smirking, leaving me alone with the terror of what was to come.