His Forbidden Mafia Princess

Aleena – POV Hatred simmers beneath the calm mask I wear at the dinner table. “Aleena Caruso will marry your son, Nico Bellini,” my father announces to Angelo Bellini. Mr. Bellini nods in approval his bald head gleaming under the chandelier, fingers heavy with gold rings, and a smug grin that reeks of wealth and power. My gaze shifts to Nico. He’s nothing like his father handsome, sharp-jawed, with thick black hair and piercing green eyes. But still, he’s not the man I want to marry. “Aleena agrees to this arrangement, Mr. Luciano?” Nico asks. “Yes. My daughter will honor my wishes,” my father replies without hesitation. I bite the inside of my cheek. Every word stokes the fire inside me. I don’t want this. I want to build my own tech empire not be sold off like a bargaining chip. “Aleena,” Nico says, turning to me. “You’re happy with the arrangement?” He doesn’t believe my father’s lie. Smart man. I can feel my father’s eyes burning into me. Don’t you dare defy me. You know what it will cost. “Yes,” I mutter. “I agree with my father’s wishes.” “Good,” Angelo cuts in. “Now that we’re clear shall we talk business? Specifically, who’s taking over the smuggling operations? I assume your daughters won’t be involved. Let Nico handle it.” Subtle greed drips from every word. My father stays silent. In our world, women are never taken seriously. Misogyny is the foundation of every deal, every empire. I could run circles around Nico in this business but I made a promise to my mother never to step into this filth. “We’ll decide who takes over soon,” my father says. Angelo doesn’t like that, but my father presses on. “I suggest we move the engagement to this week,” he says. “Next Saturday,” Angelo counters. “Done.” My eyes flick to Nico again. His jaw is clenched, his gaze locked on me. He’s just as trapped as I am. When the tense dinner ends, I follow my father into his study. “Aleena,” he warns, his voice low. “Don’t even think about running or sabotaging this deal. If I get even a whisper of defiance, I’ll make sure she marries Nico instead and she’ll be forced to end things with that little boyfriend of hers. She won’t study, won’t be free. She’ll go straight into business training. Understand?” I nod. My silence isn't obedience it’s survival. “Your mother’s last wish was to keep both of you out of this world,” he says. “I’m honoring that. Barely.” He steps closer. “You need to make Nico fall for you. I’m not merging with Bellini I want control. You will make that happen.” “Yes, Father,” I mutter, feeling like a puppet with clipped strings. “I don’t trust your silence, Aleena,” he growls. “You’re too calm. You’re planning something. So I brought in someone to keep an eye on you.” He raises his voice. “Step in.” The door opens, and a man walks in broad-shouldered, built like a tank. A fitted black T-shirt stretches across his chest, military boots thudding against the floor. Blonde hair. Blue eyes. Rugged jaw. He’s handsome, sure but there’s something lethal in the way he carries himself. Cold. Unreadable. He doesn’t look at me. He stands at attention before my father. “This is Zane Caldwell,” my father says. “Your new bodyguard. Ex-military, American. He reports to me. He keeps you safe. And contained.” “Yes, sir,” Zane replies, voice sharp as a blade. Disgust coils in my stomach. I storm out of the study, my heels clicking against the marble. I can hear him Zane following. Heavy footsteps. A shadow I didn’t ask for. Once in my room, I whirl around to face him. My life is officially over. He's a walking obstacle six-foot-four of muscle, eyes like ice, trained to obey orders and crush rebellion. “Zane,” I snap. “You can call me Caldwell,” he replies, that American accent cool and clipped. “I can pay you more,” I say. “Work for me instead.” “No.” “Why not? Aren’t you in this for the money?” “It’s not that simple,” he says. “My job is to protect you.” “No,” I correct. “Your job is to spy on me.” I narrow my eyes at him, thinking. My father knew I’d try to bribe the bodyguard. So what did he do? What leverage does he have over this man? My father never lets outsiders into our home. Everyone in our business is Sicilian, born and raised. For him to bring in an ex-U.S. military officer, he must have something on him. Dirt. A deal. Maybe this man committed a crime, and now he’s under my father’s thumb. Working for protection. For silence. “You should wait outside,” I say. “No. I’ve been ordered to stay in your room.” He doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t look at me. Just stands there like some kind of soldier statue with a maddeningly handsome face. I glare at him. He doesn’t blink. I need a plan. One that gets me and my sister out of the Caruso family for good. Freedom is the goal. Whatever it takes.