The Mafia's Bride

Chapter 11&12; Shattered Lace

Don Riccardo's Chambers opened.

“Sofia?” his deep voice rumbled low.

She stormed in, her expensive heels clicking violently against the marble floor. Her cheeks were flushed red, tears streaking her face, and her mascara smudged like the remains of a once-perfect painting now ruined by rain.

The Don's brows furrowed. “What happened?”

Sofia didn't speak at first. She walked briskly toward him, then knelt at his feet like a wounded child, clutching his hand.

“It’s all ruined,Sir… everything,” she cried, voice trembling. “The wedding… my image… my dignity. Matteo humiliated me before everyone!”

Riccardo’s grip on his cane tightened slightly. “I know what happened that day. I’m not pleased either,” he muttered. “But I didn’t expect you to come here crying about it again. Matteo will answer for the chaos he caused.”

“No, no... You don’t understand!” Sofia choked. “It wasn’t just about the wedding. It’s why he did it—why he walked away like I was nothing.”

Riccardo narrowed his eyes. “Then explain.”

Sofia sat up straighter, wiping her tears slowly. “He… he was having an affair.”

A beat of silence.

The Don's face remained unreadable. “What?”

Sofia’s lips trembled again. “With a filthy, lowborn maid… my own personal maid.”

Riccardo’s brows raised, a flicker of disbelief flashing across his tired eyes. “You’re sure about this?”

“Yes!” she said almost too quickly. “I’ve seen her. I-I saw her leaving his room late at night… I saw him kissing her neck—pinning her against the wall like a wild animal!” Her voice cracked. “And she… she let him. That little witch seduced him behind my back!”

The room fell into a sharp silence, the Don’s chest rising and falling heavily. He knew Matteo. His son was many things—cold, dangerous, ruthless—but never careless with women. He *hated* intimacy. Despised attachment.

“This can’t be,” Riccardo murmured. “Matteo detests being touched.”

Sofia nodded through her tears. “I thought so too, but… I saw it with my own eyes. He was obsessed—like she had bewitched him!”

Riccardo let out a deep, rough sigh, coughing into a cloth as he leaned back. “A maid. A goddamn maid,” he said with a growl. “After everything we’ve built, he throws it away for a servant girl?”

“I feel so humiliated, Don Riccardo,” Sofia whispered, voice small and shaking. “I gave everything… everything for this family… for him. I was loyal.”

“I’ll talk to him,” Riccardo said coldly.

But Sofia didn’t move. She stayed on her knees, sniffling until Riccardo glanced down again.

“There’s something else you want,” he muttered knowingly.

She bit her lip and nodded.

“I want to deal with her.”

“No,” Riccardo said sternly. “Let me handle my son.”

“Please.” Sofia looked up at him, her brown eyes shimmering with fake innocence. “Not just for me… but for the respect of our alliance. What Matteo did—what that girl did—was more than betrayal. It was mockery. *I was mocked by the entire underworld*.”

The Don didn’t answer at first.

“Give me permission to make an example of her. One that others will remember. That no one can come close to what's mine.”

He stared at her. Studied her face. Then slowly, painfully, he sighed and gave a small nod.

“Do what you want… but don’t kill her,” he said at last. “That will be Matteo’s decision.”

Sofia’s lips curled slowly, her face lighting up with a triumphant glint beneath the surface of her broken facade.

“Thank you, Don Riccardo,” she whispered, standing gracefully like a queen returning from battle. “I won’t disappoint you.”

She turned, her tears suddenly dry, her steps composed, and her smile hidden beneath her calm expression.

The Don watched her go, his heart sinking deeper into uncertainty…

★—★

¶ PENTHOUSE

Enzo slouched deep into the worn leather chair, rubbing the back of his neck with a tired sigh. “Man, I just came back from Russia yesterday. Barely had time to rest before I had to jump straight into that mess of a wedding.”

Nico chuckled, crossing his legs as he poured two glasses of whiskey. He handed one over. “At least you didn’t have to attend my betrothed’s birthday party before all that chaos.”

Enzo raised an eyebrow, taking a slow sip. “You’re telling me you actually went to Carmella’s birthday party? How was that disaster, huh?”

Nico shrugged, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips. “Disastrous doesn’t even begin to cover it. She was everywhere, making a scene as usual. You know how Carmella is—crazy and stubborn as hell.”

Enzo laughed, shaking his head. “You’re still pretending you don’t like her. I see that big head of yours thinking otherwise.”

Nico smirked but said nothing.

“Come on, spill it. How bad was it?” Enzo leaned forward, clearly enjoying this.

“Let’s just say I’m lucky I survived the night without wanting to disappear,” Nico said, rolling his eyes.

They both laughed, the tension easing.

After a beat, Nico’s expression turned serious. “So, enough about me. How was your mission in Russia? You didn’t say much.”

Enzo took a slow breath. “It was… fine. Almost had everything under control. But near the end, someone saved me. Unexpectedly.”

Nico blinked. “A girl?”

Enzo nodded slowly. “Yeah. Someone I thought I knew.”

Nico’s face went quiet, almost unreadable. “Who?”

“Yelena...but am not totally sure,” Enzo said, his voice low. “Her face was covered. She gave a fake name—Alessia. But her voice… that voice was too familiar. I can’t stop thinking about it.”

Nico leaned back, eyes narrowing. “You sure about this? Yelena showing up now? After all these years? Especially with what you did to her?”

Enzo sighed staring into his glass, swirling the whiskey. “I don’t know why she’s here. And I don’t know if I’m ready to find out.”

Nico didn't press further already aware his mind was far gone.

The room fell silent except for the faint clink of ice in their glasses.

★—★

¶Marino's Estate~Carmella's Room

Carmella stepped out of the bathroom, towel wrapped lazily around her body, humming to herself as steam curled behind her like smoke from a battlefield. Her peace was short-lived.

The bedroom door slammed open.

“Get dressed,” her mother snapped, storming in like she owned the air. “You’re going to stay with Nico tonight.”

Carmella blinked. “Come again?”

“You heard me,” Mrs. Marino folded her arms. “You’re moving in with him.”

“I most certainly am not.”

Her mother’s smirk was sharp, wicked. “Too late. We’ve already informed him on your behalf.”

Carmella stared at her in disbelief. “You what?!”

Her mother clicked her tongue. “You’ve been dragging this betrothal for too long. Nico is an eligible man. And I heard from my spy—yes, the one planted in his house—that some desperate little girl’s been crawling around trying to seduce him.”

Carmella’s eyes widened, but only for a second before she rolled them. “Not my business. He can do whatever he wants.”

Mrs. Marino’s eyes narrowed. “If you don’t want that b***h to steal your man, you’ll get there and handle it. Any time she shows her face, you’ll teach her a lesson.”

Carmella threw her head back dramatically. “Can I please get dressed first?”

“Fine,” her mother hissed. “But you’re moving in this evening.”

“What? No! I can’t today—tomorrow maybe—but not today!”

“You’re going today!” her mother barked. “So pack your things!”

The door slammed behind her, rattling the walls.

Carmella let out a long, frustrated groan and flopped onto the bed. Her life, once again, being puppeteered like a soap opera.

Carmella sighed and peeled herself off the bed, dragging her towel tighter around her chest as she moved toward her wardrobe. Her fingers hovered over her silk robes, then her leather crop top, then a full ball gown — chaos lived in her closet too.

“Ugh, what do you even wear when your mother sells you off to a cold mafia prince,” she muttered under her breath, pulling on a casual black tank top and fitted jeans. No bra. Let Nico suffer.

She’d barely started brushing her hair when her phone buzzed.

Amy calling... Her best friend.

Carmella smiled faintly. “Speak of the devil.”

“Carmie?” Amy’s voice rang bright through the speaker. “Just checking in — are you okay? You sounded off yesterday.”

“Oh, I’m just peachy,” Carmella said flatly. “My mother is shipping me off to Nico’s place like I’m some limited-edition wine.”

“What?! Why?!”

“She heard some chick has been hanging around his penthouse and now I’m apparently on guard dog duty.”

Amy snorted. “Girl, no.You are not a jealous watchdog. Come stay with me instead. Like, seriously. I just got wine, Netflix, and new K-dramas.”

Carmella paused, brushing her hair more slowly. “You know what… that’s actually tempting.”

“Obviously. Come on. Stay at mine tonight. You can go play wifey later.”

Carmella grinned. “Alright, I’ll sneak off. Let the world burn.”

Just then, the door creaked open, and her junior brother Ivan,peeked in.Tall and skinny, dark curls, glasses too big for his nose, and a face too handsome for his age.

“Carmie,” he said, adjusting his hoodie. “The car’s outside.”

She raised an eyebrow then sighed. “Thanks, buddy. Tell them I’ll be down soon.”

He nodded, then hesitated with a worried look. “You sure you wanna go?”

Carmella softened. “You’ve been eavesdropping again.”

“Obviously, I've to know who mom's selling you off to” he said, deadpan.

“Fair. Go, I’ll handle it.”

He gave her a crooked one sided smile and left.

Carmella picked up her phone again and smirked. “Amy… get the wine ready. I’m coming.”

★—★

¶Maids Quarters

The moon light filtered in weakly through the thin curtains of her room, the dusty light painting pale strokes on the tiled floor. Aria lay still for a moment, her eyes tracing the ceiling. Her thoughts circled back—again—to Noona.

She hadn’t spoken to her since that night.

The last call had ended in a shouting match, Noona’s voice cracking under the pressure of truths that should have been told long ago. The revelation of her family—*the Castellanos*—and the fact that the De Lucas may have played a part in their downfall still sat like broken glass inside her chest.

Aria turned on her side, staring at the cracked screen of her phone. She hovered over Noona’s name, thumb twitching, unsure if she wanted answers or if she was just tired of the silence.

But before she could decide, her thoughts were pierced by something sharp—voices.

She rose, brushing her hair back, and opened her door. The hallway stretched ahead, wide and lined with marble floors. Just around the corner, near the open archway to the laundry hall, a group of maids clustered together, whispering and giggling too loud to be considered casual.

She didn’t want to eavesdrop—until she heard her name.

“...thinks she’s so special,” one sneered.

“Can you believe she actually seduced Il Serpente? The slut,” another spat.

Aria froze.

“She’s a witch, if you ask me. Has to be. Always floating around like she’s innocent.”

Then a voice cut through clearer than the rest, dripping with venom and loud enough to silence the others.

“She’s probably going to spread her legs again. Wretched whore.”

The hallway erupted with mocking laughter. Aria blinked slowly, her vision narrowing.

She stepped forward calmly, each step echoing with deliberate grace until she stood right in front of them. The maids stiffened, their faces paling—except one. The ringleader. The one who dared say it.

Aria tilted her head, eyes narrowing. She noticed with wicked amusement that the girl barely reached her chin.

“Well,” Aria said sweetly, her voice sugar-laced poison, “what a short little creature you are.”

The girl blinked.

“I dare you to repeat that nonsense you just said to my face,” Aria added, leaning in slightly, a dark smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

The maid scoffed and stepped forward like she had something to prove. She opened her mouth to repeat her words then—

SMACK.

The sound echoed like a slap across the entire mansion.

The girl stumbled backward, crashing to the floor with wide, teary eyes and a palm-shaped red mark blossoming across her cheek. She clutched her face, sobbing softly. The other maids froze.

One by one, they scattered. No one said a word. They just... left her there.

Aria stood tall, brushing invisible dust from her night robe and offering a mocking pout in the girl’s direction.

“Oh, don’t cry now,” she cooed sarcastically, “that mouth of yours looked so brave a second ago.”

The girl shot a glare at Aria before hurrying after her friends.

She turned to leave, satisfied.

Then she heard faint screaming and stopped recognizing the voice.

“I saw a snake!” Renata shrieked, clutching her chest like she had survived a m******e. The hallway snapped into silence. All eyes turned to her.

“In-in our dorm!” she stammered, loud enough for every maid in the east wing to hear.

Aria, who had just finished putting that loudmouthed maid in her place, blinked. “A snake?” she asked, brow furrowing.

Renata turned to her quickly. “Yes! A long, dark one—I nearly stepped on it!”

“I just left there,” Aria muttered, already suspicious.

Still, she followed, and to her surprise, three guards and the head maid joined them—Renata’s dramatic cries had clearly drawn attention. When they reached the dorm, the guards began searching every inch.

Aria stood back, arms folded, trying not to bristle. The moment Renata said, “Maybe it snuck into someone’s things,” her stomach turned.

The head maid gave a stiff nod. “Search their belongings.”

“No—wait—” Aria stepped forward despising people going through her things, but Renata was already moving fast, too fast.

“There,” Renata pointed, ushering a maid toward Aria’s box with fake urgency. “Search that one.”

The maid hesitated. Aria’s eyes narrowed. “That’s mine—don’t—”

Too late. Her box was thrown open. Her clothes tossed. And then—

Renata gasped theatrically. “Oh my God—what’s this?!”

From Aria’s box, she pulled out an ornate jewelry box Aria had never seen before. Then the small wooden box from Matteo’s study. And finally… a tiny vial.

The guards, the head maid, even the other maids stilled. Renata raised the items like a trophy.

Aria’s heart pounded. “Wait, I don’t even know—”

“How did you get this, Castell?” the head maid snapped, her voice like a whip.

Renata stepped forward, tone venomous. “She’s a thief! That’s Signorina Sofia’s jewelry box! I told you all this girl was rotten!”

“I-I didn’t take anything—” Aria tried.

“Shut up!” the head maid barked. “Guards! Take her to Signorina Sofia!”

“What?! No—” Aria gasped as two of the guards gripped her arms roughly.

“Don’t touch me like that—” she protested, but they dragged her down the hallway like she was filth.

The dorm behind her buzzed with whispers and gasps. Renata stood in the center, smiling faintly.

Aria’s eyes burned, but her jaw stayed tight.

*

~Sofia's Suite

The knock on the door was sharp—twice, then a shove as the guards hauled Aria inside like she was a sack of trash. Her feet scraped against the polished marble as she stumbled into Signorina Sofia’s suite.

Inside was chaos.

Maids rushed frantically around the curtained interior, pulling open drawers, lifting rugs, checking under the bed. Lucia stood among them, clutching a cushion to her chest, her expression lost in worry.

Sofia stood in the center, arms crossed, eyes narrowed. She wore a satin robe with gold trimming, and despite the frantic movement around her, she looked pristine—too pristine. Like she was waiting.

As soon as her eyes landed on the jewelry box in Renata’s hands, she gasped dramatically.

“Oh mio Dio!” she cried. “That’s it! That’s my mother’s jewelry box! I’ve been looking everywhere for it!”

Renata stepped forward, chin high and eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “We found it in her belongings,” she announced, jabbing a painted nail toward Aria, who still looked stunned.

Sofia’s face twisted. “You disgusting little thief,” she spat. “And here I was being generous, letting you work in this house.”

Aria barely had time to blink before Sofia stormed up to her, eyes wild. “How dare you not only steal from me—” her hand snapped across Aria’s face, a loud crack echoing across the room “—but also try to seduce my fiancé?!”

Aria’s face whipped to the side. Pain bloomed instantly on her cheek.

Sofia was seething now. “Do you think because you have a pretty face and a few fake tears you can take what’s mine?!” she snarled.

Her hand came again, this time her ring catching Aria’s lip. Blood followed, a thin, sharp line trailing down to her chin. Aria’s knees buckled slightly, but the guards yanked her up, holding her too tight—her arms twisted behind her, shoulders screaming.

Gasps and satisfied smirks rippled through the room from the other maids. Renata stood to the side, arms folded, grinning faintly. Only Lucia looked like life had drained out of her—eyes wide, unmoving.

Sofia wasn’t done.

Another slap. Another curse.

By the fifth strike, Aria’s head lulled slightly, her lip split and blood smeared across her cheek. She didn’t cry. Her eyes were hollow, distant—but burning.

Lucia couldn’t take it anymore.

“No!” she cried, pushing forward. “Signorina, please—please forgive her—please!” Her voice cracked as she clung to Sofia’s robe. “She’s just a maid—please—”

“Get her out of here,” Renata said coldly, and with a nod, a guard gripped Lucia by the arm and flung her backward. She hit the dresser hard, letting out a soft whimper as she slid to the floor.

Sofia sniffled, dabbing her perfectly dry eyes with a silk handkerchief. “You all saw this,” she said, voice shaking with mock grief. “I didn’t want to believe it. But she betrayed my kindness.”

She waved her hand with a flourish. “Take her to the maids’ quarters. Dump her in the middle of the court yard—I want everyone to see what happens to thieves and whores.”

The guards obeyed, dragging Aria’s limp frame toward the door.

Renata stepped forward, her voice sharp and triumphant. “Let this be a warning,” she called out to the other maids, who had gathered at the door. “To any of you who think you can seduce Don Matteo or steal from anyone in this house—this is your fate.”

There were a few smirks. A few pitiful glances. But no one moved.

Except Lucia.

She scrambled to her feet and ran after the guards as they dropped Aria unceremoniously in the center of the dormitory. Her body hit the cold marble with a thud.

“Aria,” Lucia whispered, kneeling beside her. “Oh God—Aria—”

She cradled Aria’s head gently as Aria let out a pained breath, her eyes fluttering open just enough to see Lucia’s tear-stained face.

Before everything went blank.

★—★

The cold breeze nipped at Yelena’s skin as she stepped out of the grand hotel lobby, her heels clicking elegantly against the polished marble. The night was thick with secrets — but she wore them well.

Parked sleekly by the curb, a black matte car hummed quietly, and leaning against it was a tall, sharp-jawed man in a dark tailored suit. His hair was tousled like he hadn’t tried — but Yelena knew better. Kai *always* tried.

His eyes swept over her, momentarily stunned.

“Damn,” he muttered under his breath, standing straighter. “You sure you’re not going to seduce the whole De Luca family while you’re at it?”

Yelena gave a slow, knowing smirk as she approached, her coat catching the wind behind her.

“Maybe I will,” she purred. “ I’m starting with Enzo.”

Kai opened the door wordlessly, but not before leaning close and whispering, “He won’t know what hit him.”

She slid inside like liquid confidence, the silk of her dress gliding against the leather seats. Kai entered on the other side, shutting the door, his demeanor shifting the moment they were enclosed.

“Have you found an entry point?” she asked.

Kai nodded, tapping his tablet. “There’s a gala. The Don’s family is expected to appear. Including Enzo. We can slip in through diplomatic invites—your cover as Alessia Romano is solid.”

“And security?”

“Tight. But you’ve handled worse,” he said, then added softly, “But if it gets bad, you pull out, Lena. I don’t care if it’s Enzo or the damn Pope. You’re not getting caught.”

Her eyes flicked toward him, softened for a second… then gone. “I’m not here to run, Kai. Not this time. If I’m doing this, I’m going all in.”

He exhaled, jaw tight. “Just don’t forget why we started this in the first place.”

She leaned her head back, eyes on the night sky through the window. “I haven’t. I never will.”

★—★

¶Marino Estate

Carmella stood at the grand staircase of the Marino estate, her glossy hair bouncing with every step. Her silver suitcase wheeled behind her, her phone clutched in her perfectly manicured hand. She gave a small wave at Ivan, standing near the gate in his oversized hoodie and thick glasses, trying to look casual.

But she saw right through him.

He looked… sad.

Carmella’s heart softened, just a little.

“Don’t look at me like that, geekface,” she teased with a pout. “I’m just moving, not dying.”

He didn't reply. Just shoved his hands deeper into his hoodie pockets and looked down. Carmella rolled her eyes, but her smile faltered.

From the balcony, her father stood silently, watching. He didn’t say a word. Just looked at her like he wanted to stop everything—but didn’t have the strength.

She glanced up at him, eyes locking.

A flicker of emotion passed between them. Hurt. Betrayal. Regret.

He looked away first.

Before Carmella could react, her mother’s sharp hand pushed at her shoulder. “Get in the car.”

The warmth drained from the moment.

Carmella scoffed and let herself be nudged toward the black SUV waiting at the curb.

The driver opened the door without a word, eyes a little too twitchy for Carmella’s liking. She paused. “Where’s the new guy? I asked for Gianni.”

“He called in sick,” the man replied flatly. “Signora said to take you myself.”

“Hmph.”

She climbed in, ignoring the weird feeling at the pit of her stomach. She gave her little brother one more look through the window. He was still staring.

Pitiful little genius.

The car pulled out of the compound, heavy silence between her and the driver. Carmella gazed out the window waiting for the right moment.

Without a word, she reached into her designer purse, pulled out a thick envelope of cash, then tapped the driver sharply on the shoulder.

The man glanced at her through the rearview mirror.

“I drive from here,” she said coolly, extending the envelope.

He frowned slightly. “Signorina, your mother gave strict—”

She shoved the envelope forward, her voice sharper now. “I said I’m driving. You didn’t see anything. You didn’t hear anything. You don’t know where I’m going. Do we understand each other?”

He hesitated. Then nodded once, stiffly.

They pulled over on the side of the road, not too far from the estate but far enough to be unseen.

Carmella slipped out in one fluid motion, her heels clicking against the pavement as she rounded the car. The driver exited without a word and handed over the keys. She flashed him a tight, mocking smile.

“Good boy,” she said, tossing the envelope into his hands like a reward.

Sliding into the front seat, she adjusted her mirrors with exaggerated flair and pushed her sunglasses higher on her nose. The interior still smelled of new leather—her mother probably had it cleaned and scented for Nico.

Too bad she had other plans.

As the car pulled back onto the road, she let out a satisfied hum. Her phone buzzed.

Amy’s name flashed across the screen.

Carmella accepted the video call, still one hand on the wheel. “Speak of the devil,” she smirked.

“Ahhh, is that Carmella Marino, the runaway fiancée?” Amy laughed on the screen, lying in bed in a satin robe.

Carmella blew a kiss toward the camera. “Guilty. I’m officially a fugitive.”

“You actually got away?” Amy asked with mock shock. “Your mom let you out alive?”

“Barely,” Carmella muttered. “She pushed me into the car herself. If I’d sneezed, I’m sure she’d have stabbed me.”

They both burst into laughter. Carmella relaxed a little, letting the speed increase just slightly as she drove through the open roads.

“She really forced you to go live with that man?”

“She did more than force me—she practically shoved me into his future nursery,” Carmella replied, rolling her eyes. “As if babysitting Mr. Brooding De Luca is my idea of a dream life.”

Amy giggled. “Yesss! Girl’s night it is.”

Carmella chuckled, switching hands on the wheel, her silver nails gleaming under the sunlight. “They’re going to lose their minds when they find out I never showed up at Nico’s place.”

“Let them,” Amy purred.

Carmella laughed harder. “Cheers to chaos—”

But then—

CLUNK.

Her smile faded.

She blinked. “What was that?”

“Carmie?” Amy’s voice came through the speaker. “What’s going on?”

The car began to shake slightly—barely noticeable, but enough for Carmella to frown. The wheel suddenly felt heavier in her hands.

She pressed the brake.

Nothing.

“Amy… wait, the brake—why isn’t—?”

The screen crackled as Carmella gripped the wheel tighter, panic rising in her throat. “No, no, no—brake, brake—!”

“Carmella?!”

“I CAN’T STOP—!”

The road curved fast. Trees blurred past. Horns screamed from another lane.

Metal screeched. The car spun.

Blackout.