The Mafia's Bride

Chapter 8; Reveal

Matteo’s Penthouse (Late Night) ~

The rain tapped quietly against the glass walls of Matteo’s penthouse. Milan’s skyline stretched beyond the window—dark, restless, alive.

Matteo stood near the bar, sleeves rolled, tie gone. He poured two fingers of scotch, the amber liquid catching the low light.

Behind him, the elevator chimed. Nico stepped in, suit jacket slung over one shoulder, his face as unreadable as ever.

“You’re late,” Matteo said without turning.

“You’re drinking alone,” Nico replied, setting his jacket on the armrest. “So I figured you needed company.”

Matteo handed him a glass. Nico took it without thanks.

A few quiet seconds passed before Matteo asked, “How was the Marino girl’s party?”

Nico let out a low exhale. “Louder than necessary. Waste of time.”

“She still hates you?”

“With everything she has,” Nico said simply.

Matteo gave a short smirk and took a sip.

“She asked if I planned to ‘die of boredom’ before our wedding,” Nico added dryly.

“Charming.”

“She’s got a mouth. And a knife.”

Matteo snorted faintly. “Sounds like your type.”

Nico tilted his glass in a mock toast. “Glad we’re laughing.”

Silence returned, heavy but not uncomfortable.

Then, Nico cleared his throat. “You still haven’t killed her.”

Matteo set his glass down.

Nico’s gaze didn’t waver. “The Castellanos girl.”

“I know who you mean.”

“She’s alive. And she’s here. Why?”

Matteo looked toward the window again. “She doesn’t know who she is.”

“Yet.”

Matteo’s jaw tightened slightly. “If that changes, I’ll handle it.”

“You should’ve handled it already.” Nico’s voice was quiet but edged. “The woman she lives with—off record. Too clean to be random.”

“We looked into it.”

“Still. It doesn’t sit right.”

Matteo turned slowly. “Do you doubt me?”

“I don’t doubt you,” Nico said. “I doubt what she’ll do when she finds out.”

A tense pause.

“She’s just an overly curious maid,” Matteo said, almost to himself.

Nico finished his drink and set the glass down.

“She’s a Castellanos,” he reminded. “That blood never stays quiet for long.”

He walked toward the door.

Matteo watched him go.

Just before stepping out, Nico muttered, “You’re not as detached as you think.”

The door shut behind him.

Matteo stood still, silver eyes narrowed. The rain hadn’t stopped.

And for the first time in weeks, he felt it—unrest.

★

~ De Luca Mansion – Bridal Wing (Morning) ~

The mansion buzzed with energy. Maids ran up and down the hallways with boxes, fabrics, flowers. The air was thick with perfume, tension, and Sofia’s shrill voice barking from the bridal suite.

Inside, the chaos had a crown — and it was Sofia Moretti.

Aria stood at the side, balancing an open garment bag in one hand, watching as Sofia twirled in front of the mirror in her extravagant designer gown. It was pearl-white, embroidered, overdramatic — just like her.

“Doesn’t it look *stunning*, Aria?” Sofia asked, though it wasn’t really a question.

“Yes, signorina. Like royalty,” Aria answered, lips pressed into a polite smile.

“Obviously.” Sofia beamed at herself. “Matteo will pass out when he sees me.”

Aria didn’t comment. She couldn’t imagine Matteo passing out for anything other than blood loss.

Another maid entered, hands full of makeup boxes. She stumbled slightly, knocking into Sofia’s pristine vanity.

There was a sharp clang, a lipstick tube hit the floor.

Sofia froze. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“I-I’m sorry, Signorina,” the girl stammered. “It slipped—”

“Are you blind?! That table is worth more than your salary. Get out. You’re fired.”

The room went still.

The maid blinked. “Fired?”

“You heard me.”

A few other maids exchanged nervous glances and murmured. One whispered, “She can’t fire anyone—she’s not married yet.”

Sofia turned sharply, fury etched in every feature. “What did you just say?”

Two maids looked down, silent.

Sofia strode over, eyes blazing. Then — slap!— her palm met the nearest maid’s cheek. Another followed.

Aria flinched. Her hands tightened around the garment bag. She looked at the girls, then at Sofia. Her stomach twisted, but she stayed still.

Sofia huffed, smoothing her hair back. “This is my day. If anyone ruins it, they can go scrub floors in Palermo for all I care.”

Aria slipped out of the bridal wing the moment Sofia’s back turned.

The chaos inside was unbearable. Screaming. Slapping. Entitlement.

But it wasn’t the slap that made her heart pound—it was the tiny vibration in her apron pocket.

*Bzzz Bzzz*.

She hurried down the hallway, ducking past corners,until she reached her shared room. It was quiet, empty.

It was strictly against the rules for a maid to be caught making a phone call any where other than their dorms because they will be assumed as Spies and then DEATH!.

Aria cringed at the disheartening thought.

She closed the door gently behind her and checked the screen.

Noona.

Aria swallowed hard and answered.

“Noona?”

“Aria,” came the familiar, raspy voice. “Mi piccola… how are you?”

Aria smiled faintly, curling up on her bed. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too. I was starting to think you forgot me.”

“I didn’t. Things are just… crazy.”

“How's your maid job.. hope it isn't stressful?”

Aria chuckled. “More than that. The Don’s son is getting married soon, so we’ve been turned into personal slaves.”

There was a pause.

Noona’s weak voice sharpened. “Don?”

Aria blinked. “Yeah. I’m working for a Mafia family… the De Lucas.”

Silence.

“Noona?”

“You’re in the De Luca Mansion?!” Noona’s voice cracked with fear. “Aria, you need to leave there. Now.”

“What? Why?”

“You don’t understand—this is dangerous!”

“Noona.” Aria sat up straight. “Why are you panicking? You’re scaring me.”

No answer.

“Noona,” she pressed, her voice low. “What are you hiding?”

“I... I can’t—”

“You can. I’ve lived my whole life not knowing who I am. You told me my parents died in a car crash. You told me I was safe. But if you’re this scared just by hearing *De Luca*—then there’s something you haven’t told me.”

Noona was silent for a long time. Then, with a trembling breath, she whispered—

“Your real name is Ariana Valentino Castellanos.”

The world tilted.

“What...?”

“You were born into the Castellanos family. Your family—your bloodline—was powerful, noble... and hunted. The De Lucas wiped them out. Burned your estate to the ground. I barely escaped with you in my arms.”

Aria’s heart slammed against her chest.

“No...”

“I changed your name. Hid your identity. All to protect you.”

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” Aria’s voice was barely a whisper.

“I wanted you to live,” Noona rasped. “I thought if they never found you—”

Aria stood up, pacing the room, hands in her hair. Her head spun. “Matteo... he called me Castellanos once. I thought he was mocking me. But he knew.”

She pulled open her drawer with shaking hands and took out the photo—her only photo. A baby in the arms of a man and woman with tired but gentle smiles.

“My parents,” she breathed, tears falling freely now.

Everything made sense. The nightmares. The visions. Matteo’s sharp gaze. The way he looked at her—like a ghost from the past.

“I have to go,” she whispered.

“Aria—”

But she ended the call, dropped the phone, and let the sobs escape.

She curled up on the floor, clutching the photo to her chest.

Everything had just changed.

★

Moscow Safehouse — 11:17 PM

The room is dim, lit only by the pale glow of the laptop screen. Yelena sat cross-legged on the floor, back against the peeling wall, a worn blanket tossed carelessly to the side. She had been awake for hours.

The screen displayed a single file. Classified.

Target: Enzo Volkov.

Her finger hovered over the trackpad before finally opening it.

Photos, movement reports, timestamps. All recent.

She stared at the grainy image of him taken from a distance — black coat, silver lip rings, hands in his pockets, that same devil-may-care strut like he owned the world.

But he looked… different now.

Sharper.

Colder.

More lethal.

And somehow even more handsome than she remembered.

She leaned her head back against the wall, sighing.

“Why did you change so much, Volkov…” she whispered in Russian, her eyes unreadable.

The memory of their brief encounter in the warehouse flashed behind her lids — the way he smirked, the way he looked right through her as if she was just another stranger.

As if she hadn't once meant everything.

She glanced at her side. The gun lay there, cleaned and ready. Her orders were clear — track and observe. Engage only if necessary.

She closed the file, her face turning cold again. Emotions like that? Dangerous. Forbidden. Weak.

"Personal feelings compromise precision," she muttered like a mantra. "You taught me that… didn't you?"

She reached under her shirt, pulling out a thin silver chain, hidden beneath layers — a ring tied to it. His ring.

She stared at it a moment too long… then tucked it back.

Suddenly her computer beeped, She clicked on the tracker set on Enzo. Her gaze tensed.

Next move: Italy.

But this time, she wouldn’t let her heart get in the way.

Marino Estate – Late Evening

The soft click of her heels echoed across the marble floor as Carmella entered her bedroom, the heavy doors shutting behind her. Lavender walls, golden accents, and a perfectly curated scent of jasmine lingered in the air — but none of it soothed her tonight.

She dropped into the velvet chair by her vanity, her reflection staring back at her with discontent. She pulled off her earrings, tossing them onto the table, and reached for her lipstick... then paused.

What was the point?

She toused it aside her thoughts traveling back to her disastrous birthday party.

It had been horrible,it has always been.

But at least before,it was slightly interesting seeing different suitors swaying her but now —now she is stuck with an emotionally detached fiancee!

She hated everything about this place.... everything!

A knock came.

“Carmella,” her mother’s voice filtered through the door,as she stepped in, smooth and sharp, “Don’t forget the De Luca wedding. We’re expected to be there.”

Carmella let out a breath. “Is he even going?”

“Nico?” her mother asked, feigning innocence. “Of course. He’s practically family to them.”

Carmella snorted. “He barely acknowledges me. I don’t even think he remembers this engagement exists.”

“Then make him remember,” her mother snapped. “The Marino name still holds weight. We may not be what we used to be, but alliances matter.”

Carmella stood, facing her mother with an annoyed expression. “His whole family’s gone. He clings to the De Lucas like a stray dog. And I’m supposed to marry him to strengthen our position?”

“Yes, and Nico isn't a stray dog Mella watch your tongue he's a very powerful man, you should be thankful he hasn't called off the engagement—

”He should call off the engagement,I don't give a f**k I hate that damn cold jerk “

”Mella!! The only reason he hasn't called it off is because of our families pleas and the relationship we have with the De Lucas, don't you dare ruin this for all of us just because of your stupid selfish reasons “. Mrs Morreti snapped and Carmella's eyes darkened.

”I'm not a kid, you and dad can't keep making decisions for me—

Mrs Morreti's hand connected to Carmella's cheek sending her sprawling to the floor.

Carmella held her stinging cheek glaring at her,she didn't cry. Not Infront of her witch like mother. Never!

Mrs Morreti adjusted her dress, facing Carmella with a dangerous glare.

“You will marry Nicole and you will wear something decent for the De Lucas wedding! ”

Her mother’s footsteps faded down the hall.

Carmella gritted her teeth, falling on her bed.

She hated it here... just as she hated him.

★

The room is dark, the only light coming from the moon filtering through the curtains. Matteo lies in bed, his face contorted in distress. Beads of sweat form on his forehead as he tosses and turns.

In his dream, he's back at the estate, a young boy of seven. The corridors echo with distant screams. He runs towards the source, his heart pounding.

He bursts into the grand hall to find his mother, lying in a pool of blood.... the blood was everywhere....on everything..!

Young Matteo screams, but no sound comes out. The scene fades into darkness.

*End of Nightmare.

Matteo jolts awake, gasping for air. He sits up, running a hand through his sweat-drenched hair.

His silver eyes glistened in the dark ,his brows curving in a distressed frown.

He had been having the same dream since his mother's death...

Matteo slid into his rooms large bathroom,few minutes later the sound of running water echoed through the vast room.

Inside Matteo sat inside a bathtub... the warm liquid barely easing the storm brewing in his chest.

This was all their fault....Her fault!

And she'll suffer on their behalf.

Matteo thought to himself,his fists clenching beneath him as he let the warm water cover him.

★

¶ The Next DAY—Wedding Day

Matteo strode with deliberate ease. His handsome face looking drained and stressed like he hadn't slept for days.

His black cloak sweept dust behind him as he made his way to the Don's chambers.

Every maid and guard bowed their head instantly no one daring to look up until he was out of sight.

He pushed open the double lid doors and stepped inside. He saw maids helping his weak father to dress, immediately they noticed his presence they bowed their heads before continuing.

Matteo paid no attention to them,his gaze instinctively locked on the Don's frail features.

His voice cut through the room,sharp and commanding.

“Leave”

“Yes sir”.

All the maids stopped instantly bowing their heads again before rushing out.

“Figlo mio....” The Don muttered smiling lightly as he watched his son help him dress, once he was done, Matteo shrank into the chair by the bedside.

“You haven't come to visit me in days...”

Matteo scoffed. “I thought you hated my presence ”

“Not as much as I hate your absence ”. Don Riccardo replied with a smug look.

Matteo scoffed again. “ I'm busy.... besides you added to it by bringing that social butterfly into my life...so don't complain ”

Don Riccardo let out a soft chuckle. “You'll get used to her”

“I doubt that ” Matteo muttered irritated and the Don's expression shifted slightly.

“Your wedding is in few hours Teo...get used to her”

Matteo rolled his eyes then something buzzed in his pocket,He frowned after checking it.

He stood tall. “Padre, I've business to attend to ”

Don Riccardo threw him a glare. “So why did you come to visit me,if you can't stay long”

Matteo paused mid way to the door then tilted his head with a dangerous smirk.

“Like I said, I'm busy, besides I just came to check if you were still alive”

“You sly snake.... I won't forgive you if you dare miss your wedding”. Don Riccardo mumbled.

Matteo said nothing as the door closed behind him with a soft thud.

★

Few hours later

¶Bridal Reception

Sofia woke with a smile.

Today was the day she’d waited for all her life.

Today, she would become a De Luca.

She sat up in bed, already feeling like royalty, stretching lazily before clapping twice.

“Let’s go! I want everyone on their feet!” she shouted, voice echoing through the room.

A pair of maids hurried in, adjusting the curtains and fluffing the gown laid out for her. But something felt… off.

She narrowed her eyes.

“Where’s Aria?” she asked sharply.

The maids froze. One of them—young, nervous, unfamiliar—cleared her throat.

“She’s been replaced for the day, signorina. Lucia is assigned to you now.”

Sofia frowned, processing that.

Replaced?

She had grown used to Aria’s presence—her fast feet, her sharp mouth (however annoying), and that way she understood her needs without much instruction. Now she was nowhere to be found?

“Fine,” Sofia muttered, forcing her smirk back. “She better not be sick on my wedding day.”

Lucia stepped forward with trembling hands, holding out Sofia’s jewelry. “Would you like the—”

“Don’t talk. Just do it,” Sofia snapped, flipping her hair.

She moved to the mirror, admiring herself in silk and lace, commanding adjustments to her veil, nails, perfume.

Downstairs, the mansion was already buzzing.

Sofia peeked from her window and grinned. The red carpet had been rolled out, fresh white roses lined the entrance, and the massive fountain was lit up with gold shimmer.

It was all perfect. She was perfect.

Soon enough, the sound of luxury cars pulling up filled the air. The Morettis had arrived.

Her father, Don Moretti, stepped out first, surrounded by bodyguards, followed by her mother and sister. Guests whispered.

Inside the grand reception hall, the weak, aging Don Riccardo De Luca was already seated with the help of two maids. He nodded faintly at the Morettis’ entrance.

Everything was falling into place.

Carmella Marino's family entered next, flamboyant as ever. Carmella herself rolled her eyes at the decor, clearly bored. Sofia caught a glimpse of her from the upper floor.

Of course, Carmella had to be here.

Nico’s betrothed and a walking headache. Sofia pitied Nico.

But her thoughts snapped back to herself.

Everything was ready. Guests were seated. The string quartet played softly. The florists had outdone themselves. Her dream wedding was finally alive.

Except…

Where were the brothers?

No Enzo. No Nico.

No Matteo.

She brushed the thought aside, telling herself they were fashionably late. Matteo had to be preparing for his grand entrance, right?

He had to show up.

Right?

Sofia sat down slowly as the final touches were made to her gown.

She adjusted her diamond earrings, gaze flickering toward the closed doors.

The air was thick with perfume, anticipation… and something she couldn’t quite name.

Where was her groom?

★

De Lucas Mansion — Maids Quarters

The morning light peeked through the curtains. Casting a warm golden glow over Aria's frail body.

She lay curled on her side, staring blankly at the wall.

Her body was tense, unmoving beneath the covers, though the room had been quiet for hours. Lucia had been reassigned to Sofia for the day, and Renata hadn’t returned after breakfast.

It was the first time in weeks she had the room to herself. Yet peace was the last thing she felt.

Her head pounded with everything Noona had told her. The name "Castellanos" echoed like a curse through her mind. The dreams, the blood, the fire—it all made sense now. And worse, the Don’s son, Matteo, had known. He’d called her that name. Looked at her like a ghost had risen from the past.

She squeezed her eyes shut, but sleep wouldn’t come. Her body was tired. Her heart was tired. But her mind refused to rest.

She had told the head mistress she wasn’t feeling well—and it wasn’t entirely a lie. There was a weight in her chest that made breathing painful. A fog in her mind that clouded every thought except one:

“Why?”

Why had Noona hidden this from her?

Why had the De Lucas spared her?

And most of all… why was Matteo still keeping her close?

He was supposed to have killed her.

He killed her family.

Her fingers dug into the blanket.

She should run. Noona had begged her to leave. Begged her to disappear again. But something in her refused to cower this time.

She had spent her whole life being protected. Being hidden. Being *lied to*.

Now? She wanted answers.

Her eyes opened slowly, and she turned to stare at the dark ceiling.

Maybe he kept something in his room. A file. A photo. Something. Anything.

She knew it was dangerous.

But she also knew today of all days—his wedding day—he would be distracted. Rumors were flying through the mansion already: Matteo hadn’t shown up. The guests were restless. Sofia was close to tears.

She sat up in bed slowly, her body heavy with hesitation.

What if he catches me?

But then she remembered the look in his eyes when he’d first seen her in the garden. Not confusion. Not annoyance.

Recognition.

She had to know why.

She pulled on her soft slippers and tiptoed to the wardrobe, grabbing the plainest, cleanest maid uniform she could find. She tied her hair into a loose bun, fastened a cloth over her nose as if to block dust, and grabbed a feather duster from the corner.

A disguise, but not really. Just enough to look like she belonged if someone asked.

The halls were quieter than usual. Most of the staff were gathered near the ballroom or assisting with the disaster unfolding below.

She passed a pair of guards who barely looked at her, too distracted with whispers about the absent groom.

When she reached the forbidden wing, her steps slowed.

Her stomach twisted with nerves, and she almost turned back.

But then she saw his door…

That heavy, ominous black door with silver handles. She swallowed hard and placed a hand on the knob.

It wasn’t locked.

Of course not. Matteo feared no one.

She stepped in quickly and shut the door behind her, heart hammering in her chest.

The room was massive—cold, masculine, and painfully tidy. Everything was black, gray, or steel. The windows were covered with thick curtains, and the only light came from the crack under the bathroom door.

She hesitated a moment longer, then moved toward the desk.

Her hands moved fast but careful, opening drawers, flipping pages. Nothing personal. Nothing obvious. But under a stack of files, she found a box.

Wooden. Small. Locked.

She gritted her teeth and tucked it under her arm. She’d try to open it later.

She moved toward the bookshelf next, scanning rows of law books, war memoirs, and—

A journal?

She reached for it—

But froze.

Footsteps.

Aria’s heart nearly stopped.

Without thinking, she dropped the book and rushed to the cabinet mirror, grabbing the duster and quickly beginning to clean it. She stood perfectly still, staring at her reflection, trying to slow her breathing.

The door opened behind her.

She didn’t turn.

“Who sent you here?” Nico’s voice was calm but low.

She fumbled slightly, feigning innocence. “The head maid... said since the Don’s son is getting married, we should clean the place spotless.”

Silence.

She finally turned, putting on her best dumb-but-helpful maid smile. “I didn’t mean to disturb anything.”

Nico’s eyes scanned the room like a hawk.

But he didn’t push further.

“She didn’t tell anyone to clean this suite,” he said eventually. “Get out.”

Aria bowed quickly. “Yes sir.”

As she passed him, his gaze lingered, unreadable. But he didn’t stop her.

But then Aria bumped into a strong broad chest. She slowly raised her head only to meet a pair of dangerous looking silver eyes.

Her breath hitched.

Her legs stoof frozen on the spot.

She heard Nico say something in Italian in the background,she couldn't move,his presence was intimidating.... intoxicating.

She instantly bowed her head.

Matteo took a slow deliberate step forward.

Gaze never leaving her.

Nico looked at both of them slowly, letting out a curse word before leaving.

“Gattina, cosa ci fai qui?” *What are you doing here*

Aria clutched the hem of her dress, not daring to meet his icy gaze.

She could smell the blood all over him mixed with his cologne. Just like what awaited her.

She was doomed, words couldn't form in her head. Her heart slammed in her chest as he took another step closer.

She was caught.. and worst,in his room.