Bound To My Mafia Husband

Chapter 2: The Contract

The night did not end when I said yes. In fact, it blurred. Did it really happen? I did not remember walking out of Luca Giordano's office. I did not remember a single word after that, the one that sealed my fate.

The morning sunlight seeped through the curtains, and I sat up in bed.

My chest tightened.

My brother's stupidity.

Luca Giordano.

The deal we made.

Matteo's life was at risk, and I had sacrificed my own life, my dreams, and my future to marry that man for one year. I swallowed hard and wondered if I had done the right thing.

I swung my legs over the bed and felt for my favourite slippers; they were not there. I blinked a few times as realisation hit me in the face.

Where the hell am I?

I looked around the room.

This is not my bedroom.

The silky sheets rubbed against my bare skin as I pulled myself up from the bed. The room was huge, bigger than my whole apartment. There was a huge TV on the wall, a clock on the sideboard, and a red carpet leading to the double doors. The window was open, and I noticed that it had a balcony.

What the hell?

I scratched my head trying to work out what had happened to me last night.

Luca's penthouse?

He must have bought me here.

Suddenly, the door slammed open, and I gasped.

"Finally, you are awake." He did not bother to knock as he entered the room.

"Why am I here?" I opened my mouth.

His footsteps moved closer.

"Do you understand what you agreed to?" he demanded.

Did I understand what I had agreed to?

I suddenly felt exposed, I pulled the sheets around my body, covering myself and staring at the floor.

I could feel Luca's eyes boring into me, burning my skin.

"I understand your terms, yes," I answered, not meeting his gaze.

"Do you?" He stepped forward and placed a finger under my chin, forcing me to look into his eyes.

Dammit.

My body shivered in response to his touch.

"If you are to be my wife, you are to play the role. Otherwise, your brother pays the consequences with his life, do you understand? I have high expectations of you as my wife; all eyes will be on you, and you will not embarrass me. Not once." He spoke so clearly and firmly.

He moved his finger from under my chin and studied me carefully.

"I understand." My throat tightened as his words hit me.

Luca tilted his head back but did not say a word.

"I will not fail you, I promise." I forced the words out.

For a split second, something in his eyes flickered.

"Good, then you will come down for breakfast and sign the contract," He insisted.

There was no time to answer back because the next second, he clicked his fingers, and in came two smartly dressed maids.

"Get her looking acceptable for breakfast. Ten minutes." He snapped and then walked out of the room without another glance.

The maids moved the second the door shut behind him.

One went straight to the wardrobe, pulling open doors that revealed rows of clothes—designer dresses, silk blouses, heels lined up like soldiers. The other disappeared into what I now realised was an en-suite bathroom.

“Please, miss,” one of them said gently, already laying out a cream blouse and a fitted skirt on the bed. “We don’t have much time.”

Miss.

Not Lena.

Not even a question of who I was.

Just… his.

I swallowed hard and slid out of the bed, clutching the sheets around me for a moment before forcing myself to let go. There was no point pretending anymore. I had made my choice the second I said yes.

The bathroom was bigger than my entire kitchen back home. Marble counters. Gold fixtures. A mirror that reflected a version of me I barely recognised.

Pale.

Shaken.

Owned.

“Quickly,” the maid urged softly.

They worked fast. My hair was brushed and styled, my face lightly made up—just enough to make me look polished, not overdone. The blouse fit perfectly, hugging my frame, and the skirt stopped just above my knees. Even the heels were the exact right size.

Of course they were.

Everything about this place screamed control.

Prepared.

Planned.

By the time they stepped back, I didn’t look like the girl who had been walking home alone last night.

I looked like someone else entirely.

“Breakfast is ready,” one of them said, stepping aside.

My stomach twisted.

I wasn’t hungry.

But I didn’t have a choice.

The hallway outside the bedroom was just as intimidating—long, quiet, lined with expensive art that I didn’t even dare glance at for too long. My heels clicked against the polished floor, each step echoing louder than it should.

I felt like I was walking toward something I couldn’t come back from.

Because I was.

The dining room doors were already open.

And he was there.

Luca Giordano sat at the head of the table, completely composed, as if this were just another normal morning for him. Coffee in hand. Suit already on. Not a single sign that he had just forced a woman into marrying him.

His eyes lifted the moment I stepped inside.

They scanned me.

Slowly.

Taking everything in.

“Sit,” he said.

No greeting.

No warmth.

Just a command.

I moved without thinking, taking the seat to his right. The chair felt too big, too heavy, like everything else in this place.

A plate of food was already set in front of me—fresh fruit, pastries, eggs—but I couldn’t bring myself to touch any of it.

The silence stretched.

Then—

“Eat.”

I hesitated.

“I’m not—”

His gaze snapped to mine.

“Eat,” he repeated, sharper this time.

My fingers trembled slightly as I picked up the fork. I forced myself to take a bite, even though my throat felt tight.

This was my life now.

Follow instructions.

Don’t question.

Don’t fail.

“Good,” he murmured, almost to himself.

Then, without another word, he reached beside him and placed a thick stack of papers on the table.

The contract.

My heart dropped.

“There are terms you will follow,” he said, his tone calm but final. “You will read them. You will sign them. And you will not break them.”

I stared at the papers.

So many pages.

So many rules.

I didn’t need to read them to know what they meant.

Ownership.

Control.

A year of my life… gone.

“For Matteo,” I whispered under my breath.

Luca’s eyes flickered.

“Speak up.”

“For my brother,” I said louder, forcing strength into my voice. “That’s why I’m doing this.”

Something unreadable crossed his face.

Then it was gone.

“Then don’t waste time,” he replied.

A pen was placed beside the contract.

Heavy.

Expensive.

Final.

My hand hovered over it.

This is it.

Once I sign… there’s no going back.

No escape.

No undoing this.

Images flashed through my mind—my tiny apartment, my normal life, freedom, choices… all slipping through my fingers.

Matteo.

His voice on the phone.

I messed up.

My chest tightened.

I picked up the pen.

The room felt too quiet. Too still. Like, even the air was waiting.

“Lena,” Luca said suddenly.

I froze.

I hadn’t expected him to say my name.

“Look at me.”

Slowly, I lifted my gaze.

His expression was hard, but there was something else beneath it. Something I couldn’t quite place.

“Once you sign that,” he said, his voice lower now, more deliberate, “you belong to this world. To my world. There are no half measures. No hesitation.”

My grip tightened on the pen.

“I know,” I whispered.

A beat passed.

Then I lowered my gaze to the contract.

And signed.

My name looked strange on the page.

Like it didn’t belong to me anymore.

Lena—

The pen slipped slightly in my fingers as I finished the last letter.

It was done.

A sharp inhale left my lips as I set the pen down.

Silence.

Then Luca reached forward, pulling the contract toward him. He flipped through the pages briefly, checking each signature.

Satisfied.

“Good,” he said.

Just one word.

But it felt like a door slamming shut.

He stood, buttoning his suit jacket with calm precision.

“From this moment on,” he continued, his gaze locking onto mine again, “you are Lena Giordano.”

The name hit me like a shockwave.

Giordano.

His.

My stomach twisted.

“You will be introduced to the staff properly,” he added. “You will learn how to behave, how to speak, how to represent me.”

Each word felt like another chain locking into place.

“And tonight—” he paused, watching me carefully, “—you will attend your first event as my wife.”

My heart skipped.

Already?

“I—”

“This is not a suggestion,” he cut in smoothly.

Of course it wasn’t.

Nothing with him ever would be.

He turned to leave, then stopped just short of the door.

“One more thing.”

I held my breath.

“You did the right thing,” he said, not looking back. “For your brother.”

And then he walked out.

Leaving me sitting there.

Alone.

With a new name.

A signed contract.

And a life I no longer recognised.