THE MAFIA’S PRIDE

The truth between us

Vivian POV

I stepped out of the shower, feeling refreshed.

Today had been exhausting.

A smile found its way onto my lips as my mind wandered back to everything that had happened at the DeLuca Group headquarters.

Damien’s reassuring kiss.

The way he had held my hand without caring who was watching.

The car he had gifted me.

A blush crept onto my cheeks.

Sometimes, I still couldn’t believe this was the same man who couldn’t remember me.

That reminded me…

I hadn’t seen Damien since we got home.

I slipped into a comfortable set of pajamas before stepping out of my room.

The mansion was unusually quiet.

As I looked around, I spotted Marcus walking out of one of the rooms down the hallway.

I still wasn’t familiar with the layout of the mansion.

Damien and I had spent most of our time together at the beach house before the accident.

“Marcus,” I called.

He immediately stopped and turned toward me.

“Yes, ma’am?” Marcus replied.

“Have you seen Damien?” I asked.

“Yes, ma’am,” Marcus answered. “Mr. DeLuca is in his study.”

He gestured toward the room he had just come from.

“Thank you.”

I walked toward the study and gently knocked on the door.

There was no response.

I slowly pushed the door open.

Damien stood with his back to me, his phone still in his hand.

From the look on his face…

He had only just ended a call.

His expression was colder than it had been all day.

For a brief moment, I wondered who had been on the other end of that call.

“Damien,” I called softly.

He turned to face me.

“We’re leaving for Paris tonight,” Damien said.

His voice was calm.

Cold.

“You don’t need to pack anything. Just change your clothes.”

I frowned.

“Paris?”

“We have a family meeting,” Damien replied. “I’ll be introducing you to the DeLucas.”

I stared at him, trying to process what he had just said.

“The… DeLucas?”

“Yes.”

“But why?” I asked.

His expression remained unreadable.

“Because you’re my wife.”

My heart skipped a beat.

“You have one hour to get ready,” Damien said.

He turned as though the conversation was over.

“Damien…”

He stopped but didn’t look at me.

“Are you sure you want to introduce me as your wife?” I asked quietly. “You don’t even remember—”

“I hate repeating myself,” Damien said, cutting me off.

His words hit harder than I expected.

The warmth in his voice from earlier was gone.

So was the man who had kissed me.

Standing before me now was Damien DeLuca.

Cold.

Distant.

Untouchable.

I lowered my eyes, swallowing the lump forming in my throat as I watched him walk past me without another word.

I stood there for a few seconds after he left.

The silence he left behind felt heavier than his words.

With a quiet sigh, I turned and walked back to my room.

I opened the walk-in closet and stared at the rows of clothes hanging neatly inside.

Paris.

It still hadn’t sunk in.

Pushing my thoughts aside, I reached for a cream-colored turtleneck sweater and paired it with a pair of high-waisted black tailored trousers. I slipped into a long camel coat and completed the outfit with black ankle boots.

Simple.

Elegant.

Comfortable enough for the flight.

After tying my hair into a low ponytail, I picked up my handbag and glanced at myself one last time in the mirror.

I was ready.

When I stepped out of my room, Marcus was already waiting in the hallway.

“Mr. DeLuca is waiting downstairs, ma’am,” Marcus said.

I nodded.

“Thank you.”

We walked downstairs together.

Damien was already standing in the foyer, dressed in a charcoal suit beneath a long black overcoat.

His hands rested inside his pockets as he stared out through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

He didn’t turn when he heard my footsteps.

“I’m ready,” I said softly.

He glanced at me briefly.

“Let’s go.”

That was all.

Marcus opened the front door, and we stepped outside.

A convoy of black SUVs was already waiting.

One of the guards opened the rear door of the Rolls-Royce.

Damien got in first.

I slid in beside him moments later.

The drive was quiet.

Painfully quiet.

I stole several glances at him, hoping he’d say something.

Anything.

Instead, he remained focused on the city passing by outside his window, his expression unreadable.

The Damien who had held my hand just a few hours ago…

Seemed to have disappeared.

Nearly forty minutes later, the convoy pulled into a private airfield.

A sleek white private jet stood waiting on the runway, its engines already humming softly beneath the evening sky.

The moment the car came to a stop, Marcus stepped out first and opened Damien’s door.

Damien got out without a word.

I followed him.

Without looking back, he started walking toward the aircraft.

I quietly fell into step beside him.

Within minutes, we climbed the stairs and stepped inside the private jet.

The interior of the private jet was nothing like I had imagined.

It felt more like a luxurious living room than an aircraft.

Cream leather seats lined both sides of the cabin, separated by a polished wooden table. Soft lighting illuminated the space, while large windows overlooked the dark runway outside.

I had never been on a private jet before.

For a brief moment, I simply stood there, taking everything in.

“Ma’am.”

One of the flight attendants smiled politely.

“This way, please.”

I nodded and followed her.

Damien had already taken a seat near the window.

Without looking at me, he picked up a document from the table and began reading through it.

I quietly settled into the seat opposite him.

The silence between us was suffocating.

A few minutes later, the cabin door closed.

The engines gradually grew louder.

The aircraft slowly taxied toward the runway before accelerating.

Within moments, we were airborne.

I glanced out the window as the city lights became smaller and smaller until they disappeared beneath the clouds.

The rest of the flight passed in near silence.

A flight attendant served dinner shortly after takeoff, but Damien barely touched his meal.

His attention never left the documents in front of him.

Every now and then his phone would vibrate.

He would glance at the screen, type a brief reply, then continue reading.

I wanted to ask what had happened.

I wanted to ask why he had suddenly become so distant.

But every time I looked at him…

I couldn’t find the courage.

Eventually, exhaustion got the better of me.

The gentle hum of the engines and the comfortable seat slowly lulled me to sleep.

…

“Ma’am.”

A soft voice stirred me awake.

I blinked a few times before realizing where I was.

The flight attendant smiled politely.

“We’ve landed.”

I rubbed my eyes and glanced across the cabin.

Damien was already on his feet, buttoning his suit jacket.

He looked as composed as ever.

As though he hadn’t spent the last few hours buried in work.

Without a word, he picked up his coat and walked toward the exit.

I quickly followed.

The cool night air greeted us the moment we stepped off the aircraft.

Several black luxury vehicles were already waiting on the tarmac.

A chauffeur opened the rear door of the first car.

Damien got in.

I slid in beside him.

The drive through Paris was quiet.

The city glowed beneath the streetlights, its elegant buildings and wide boulevards passing by outside the window.

Nearly thirty minutes later, the convoy pulled to a stop in front of one of the city’s most luxurious hotels.

Uniformed staff immediately stepped forward to greet us as Damien climbed out of the car.

Without waiting for anyone, he walked through the grand entrance.

I quietly followed behind him.

Within minutes, we were checked in and escorted to our suite.

We stepped into the hotel suite.

It was spacious, elegant, and overlooked the glittering lights of Paris through its floor-to-ceiling windows.

I had barely taken a few steps inside when Damien spoke.

“We’re staying in the same room for now,” Damien said.

I turned to look at him.

“I don’t want anyone in my family getting the impression that we sleep in separate rooms,” Damien continued. “Not until this meeting is over.”

I nodded.

“I understand.”

Without another word, he picked up a change of clothes and disappeared into the bathroom.

The sound of running water soon filled the suite.

I sat on the edge of the bed, absentmindedly tracing circles on the duvet with my fingers.

Something was wrong.

The Damien who had kissed me only hours ago…

The man who had held my hand in front of his entire company…

The man who had looked me in the eyes and told me he didn’t intend to lose me twice…

Had disappeared the moment he answered that phone call.

And I couldn’t stop wondering why.

Several minutes later, the bathroom door opened.

Damien stepped out, his damp hair neatly pushed back, a white towel hanging loosely around his neck.

Without sparing me a glance, he walked straight past me and entered the large walk-in closet.

I watched him disappear inside.

Part of me wanted to let it go.

To wait until tomorrow.

But another part of me knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep until I understood what had changed.

I took a slow breath and remained seated, my eyes fixed on the closet entrance as I listened to the quiet rustle of hangers and drawers.

A few minutes later, Damien emerged from the closet.

He had changed into a pair of black lounge trousers and a fitted black T-shirt.

His wristwatch was back on, and his hair had been neatly combed, making him look just as composed as ever.

If I hadn’t seen him earlier…

I would never have guessed something was weighing on his mind.

“Damien,” I called softly.

I stood up and walked over to him.

Gently, I reached for his hand.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

The moment my fingers touched his…

He pulled his hand away.

I froze.

“What happened after you got that call?” I asked quietly.

“Nothing.”

His answer was immediate.

“It’s just some family issues.”

His voice was so cold.

So distant.

It was as though the man standing before me wasn’t the same Damien who had held my hand just hours ago.

I forced a small smile.

“Can I help?”

“It doesn’t concern you.”

Those four words hit me harder than I expected.

My smile faded.

“What do you mean it doesn’t concern me?” I asked, my voice rising.

He remained silent.

I took a step closer.

“Why are you acting like this?”

“Vivian—”

“No,” I interrupted. “Answer me.”

“You’ve been pushing me away ever since that phone call.”

I searched his face, hoping to find even a trace of the warmth he’d shown me earlier.

Instead…

There was nothing.

My chest tightened.

“Just a few hours ago you kissed me.”

“You held my hand in front of your entire company.”

“You bought me a car.”

“You looked me in the eyes and told me you didn’t intend to lose me twice.”

I felt my eyes sting.

“And now…”

I swallowed the lump in my throat.

“…you’re standing here acting as though I don’t even matter.”

A heavy silence filled the room.

I laughed bitterly.

“I don’t understand you, Damien.”

“You keep pulling me close…”

“…then the next minute you push me away.”

My voice cracked despite my efforts to stay composed.

“Tell me…”

“Did any of those kisses mean anything to you?”

For the first time since we’d arrived in Paris…

The coldness in Damien’s expression began to fade.

He looked at me for a long moment.

Then his shoulders dropped slightly, as though the weight he’d been carrying had finally caught up with him.

His voice, when he finally spoke…

Was no longer cold.

“Vivian…”

“It’s not what you think,” Damien said softly.

I looked at him without saying a word.

He let out a slow breath before running a hand through his hair.

“My mother is sick.”

The anger inside me immediately faded.

“She’s… the only family I have.”

He paused.

“Well… except for my stepbrother.”

His eyes dropped to the floor.

“My father died ten years ago.”

“The day he died…” he continued quietly, “…he left the entire DeLuca Group in my hands.”

For the first time since I’d met him…

He looked vulnerable.

“If anything happens to my mother…”

He stopped, swallowing hard.

“I don’t know what I’ll do.”

I slowly reached for his hand.

This time…

He didn’t pull away.

“I wasn’t trying to push you away,” Damien admitted.

“I just didn’t want to put all of this on your shoulders.”

His fingers tightened around mine.

“I didn’t want to burden you.”

A lump formed in my throat.

“And the kisses?” I asked quietly.

“Were they real?”

He didn’t hesitate.

“Every one of them.”

My heart skipped.

“It’s only been two days since I woke up…”

He looked into my eyes.

“…but every moment I’m with you…”

He paused, searching for the right words.

“…it feels like a part of me I’ve been missing finds its way back.”

Tears blurred my vision.

“There is something else you should know,” Damien said.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet.

From inside, he removed a slightly worn photograph and handed it to me.

The moment I saw it…

My breath caught.

It was us.

Standing side by side.

Smiling.

Wearing our wedding rings.

“I found it at the hospital,” Damien said.

“When I turned it over…”

“There was an address written on the back.”

I looked up at him.

“I went there.”

“It was our beach house.”

“I found our photographs.”

“Our clothes.”

“Our wedding rings.”

“Our memories…”

He paused.

“I found everything.”

Tears slipped down my cheeks.

“I remembered enough to know one thing.”

His gaze locked onto mine.

“You are my wife.”

“I kept it to myself.”

“Why?” I whispered.

“Because before I told you what I’d found…”

“I needed to know why someone wanted you dead.”

Silence filled the room.

Everything suddenly made sense.

He hadn’t been pretending.

He hadn’t been leading me on.

He had been protecting me all along.

Everything suddenly made sense.

A sob escaped my lips.

“Oh, Damien…” I whispered through my tears.

I closed the distance between us and threw my arms around him.

“I’m so sorry,” I cried, my voice breaking. “I’m so sorry I doubted you.”

Fresh tears streamed down my face.

“I didn’t know…” I whispered. “I didn’t know you were carrying all of this alone.”

For a brief moment, he stood still.

Then…

His arms slowly wrapped around me.

He held me against his chest, one hand gently resting on the back of my head.

“It’s okay,” he murmured softly.

I buried my face against his chest, holding onto him as though letting go would shatter me.

For the first time since his accident…

I finally understood.

The distance.

The coldness.

The unanswered questions.

None of it had been because he didn’t care.

He had been carrying the weight of his family…

The burden of an empire…

And the fear of losing me all over again.

We stayed like that for what felt like forever.

Neither of us spoke.

Neither of us needed to.

Sometimes…

A silent embrace said more than words ever could.