The Mafia King's contract

CHAPTER 9: "THE PROMISE"*

Two weeks.

Two weeks of Alessandro being home. Healing. Bossy. Mine.

His shoulder was still bandaged, but he was already back on calls. Back to running things.

From our bed.

"Stop pacing," he said without looking up from his laptop. "You’re making me nervous."

"I’m not pacing," I lied. I was. "I’m... thinking."

"About?" He closed the laptop. Patted the bed beside him.

I sat. "About the promise."

His jaw ticked. "What promise?"

"The one with the necklace," I said. "That you’d come home. Every time."

He took my hand. Kissed my knuckles. "I meant it."

"I know," I said. "That’s why I’m scared."

He frowned. "Scared of what?"

"Of what happens when you have to leave again," I whispered. "Of what _business_ really means."

Alessandro was quiet for a long time. Then he sighed. "Come with me."

"What?"

"Tomorrow," he said. "You come with me. No more hiding you. No more _business_ being a dirty word. You’re Mrs. Moretti. It’s time you saw what that means."

My stomach dropped. "Alessandro, I don’t know if I can—"

"You can," he said. "Because I’ll be there. And because you chose this. _Life_. Remember?"

I nodded. Terrified.

---

The next morning at 8 AM, I was in a black dress. Hair up. Heels.

Armor.

Alessandro was in a black suit. Arm in a sling, but he still looked like death in a tie.

"Ready?" he asked.

"No," I said. "But I’m coming anyway."

He smiled. Proud. "That’s my girl."

First stop: A warehouse on the edge of the city.

Not the one he burned. A different one.

Inside: 20 men. Suits. Guns. And a long table with ledgers, phones, maps.

The second we walked in, everyone stood.

"Sir," they said in unison.

Alessandro nodded. "This is Mrs. Moretti," he said. Voice cold. Final. "You answer to her like you answer to me. Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

I almost choked.

He led me to the head of the table. Pulled out the chair for me.

"Sit," he said softly. Only for me.

I did.

For the next 3 hours, I watched him work.

Orders. Deals. Punishments. Rewards.

He was ruthless. Efficient. Terrifying.

And every 10 minutes, his eyes would flick to me. Checking.

At one point a man spoke out of turn. "With all due respect, sir, a woman—"

Alessandro didn’t even look up from the paper he was signing. "Finish that sentence and you’ll be feeding the fish tonight."

The man shut up.

After, in the car, I was shaking.

"You okay?" Alessandro asked.

"I don’t know," I said honestly. "It was a lot."

"I know," he said. "I’m sorry."

"Don’t be," I said. "This is you. And I chose you."

He reached over. Took my hand.

Second stop: A restaurant. Private room.

His captains. 5 of them. Older men. Scarred.

They all stood when we entered.

"Mrs. Moretti," the oldest one said. "It’s an honor."

"Thank you," I said. Voice steady.

Lunch was worse than dinner with his mother.

They tested me. Questions about security. About money. About loyalty.

Alessandro let me answer.

When they asked, "What would you do if someone threatened the family?"

I looked at Alessandro. Then at them. "I’d burn the world down to protect it," I said. "Because it’s my family now too."

Silence.

Then the old man smiled. "She’ll do."

Alessandro’s chest puffed out like I’d just won him a war.

Third stop: The hospital.

To visit the men who were hurt in the hit.

He introduced me to every single one. "This is my wife. She’s the reason you’re getting the best doctors."

They looked at me like I was a saint.

I felt like a fraud.

On the way home, Alessandro was quiet.

"Was it too much?" he asked finally.

"It was everything," I said. "I saw all of you today. Not just the man in my bed."

"And?"

"And I’m still here," I said. "Still choosing you."

He pulled the car over. Again.

This was becoming a habit.

He cupped my face. "Annabel. I need you to know something."

"What?"

"I’ve killed people," he said. "I’ve ordered things that would make you sick. I will do it again to keep you safe."

"I know."

"But I will never lie to you," he said. "I will never cheat. I will never hurt you. That’s my promise. On top of the other one."

Tears fell. "Okay."

"Say it back," he said.

"I promise," I whispered. "I’ll stay. I’ll stand beside you. I’ll be Mrs. Moretti. No matter what."

He kissed me. Deep. Desperate. Like sealing a vow.

---

That night, he took me to the west wing.

The part of the house I was never allowed in.

It was an office. Bigger than the study.

And on the wall: photos.

Alessandro as a kid. With his mother. With his father.

"You never let anyone in here," I said.

"No," he said. "Only you."

He opened a safe. Took out a file.

"This is everything," he said. "Accounts. Properties. Names. If anything ever happens to me, this is yours."

"Alessandro—"

"Don’t," he said. "Let me do this. Let me give you this piece of me."

He handed me the file.

It was heavy. Like the gun.

"I trust you," he said. "With my life. With my empire. With everything."

I set the file down. And climbed into his lap.

Right there in his chair. In the west wing.

"I trust you too," I whispered. "With my life."

He held me so tight it hurt.

"I’m going to take care of you, Annabel," he said into my hair. "For the rest of our lives."

"I know," I said.

"Promise me one more thing," he said.

"What?"

"That if it ever gets to be too much, you’ll tell me," he said. "That you won’t leave without telling me."

"I promise," I said. "I’ll never leave without telling you."

"Good," he said. "Because I don’t think I’d survive it."

We stayed there for hours. Just holding each other.

In the place he kept all his secrets.

And for the first time,

I didn’t feel like an outsider.

I felt like home.

*[End of Chapter 9]*

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