Chapter 5 The Mafia Wife
1192 Words
I didn’t sleep.
Not really.
I lay in that massive bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying everything over and over again until it didn’t even feel real anymore.
The contract.
The rules.
The wedding.
The kiss.
My lips pressed together at the memory.
I turned onto my side, squeezing my eyes shut.
Stop thinking about it.
It didn’t mean anything.
None of this meant anything.
It was a deal.
A transaction.
One year.
That’s all.
But my chest still felt tight.
Because no matter how many times I told myself that…
It didn’t change the truth.
I was his wife now.
A knock at the door pulled me from my thoughts.
“Come in,” I called, my voice quieter than I expected.
The door opened, and a different woman stepped inside this time. Not a maid.
More… polished.
Professional.
She gave me a small, respectful smile.
“Good morning, Mrs. Giordano. My name is Sofia. I’ll be assisting you moving forward.”
Assisting.
That sounded nicer than watching.
“Okay…” I sat up slowly, pulling the covers around me. “Assisting with what exactly?”
Her smile didn’t change.
“Everything.”
Right.
Of course.
“Mr. Giordano has requested that you be ready within the hour,” she continued. “You have a full day ahead.”
A full day?
My stomach twisted.
“I didn’t realise I had a schedule.”
“You do now.”
I let out a slow breath.
“Of course I do.”
Everything felt… structured.
Controlled.
Planned.
Sofia moved around the room with ease, already pulling outfits from the wardrobe like she had done this a hundred times before.
“This is appropriate for this morning,” she said, holding up a fitted cream dress. “You’ll be meeting senior staff.”
“Staff?” I frowned.
“Yes. Household and business representatives. It’s important they recognise you in your role.”
My role.
The words settled heavily in my chest.
“The mafia wife,” I muttered under my breath.
Sofia didn’t react.
Maybe she didn’t hear me.
Or maybe… she did, and chose not to.
By the time I was dressed, styled, and made to look like someone I barely recognised again, I felt it creeping in.
That same feeling from yesterday.
Like I was stepping into someone else’s life.
Except this time…
I wasn’t just stepping in.
I was expected to own it.
“Ready?” Sofia asked.
No.
Not even close.
“…Yes.”
The room I was led into wasn’t as grand as the others, but it didn’t need to be.
It was filled.
Men in suits.
A few women.
All standing.
All waiting.
For me.
The second I stepped inside, the room went quiet.
Every pair of eyes landed on me.
Judging.
Assessing.
Measuring.
My chest tightened, but I kept my posture straight, forcing myself to walk forward.
Don’t show weakness.
Don’t give them anything.
Luca was already there.
Of course he was.
Standing at the front like he owned not just the room…
…but everyone in it.
His gaze flicked to me as I approached, quick and sharp.
“About time,” he said.
My jaw clenched slightly.
“I’m right on time.”
A flicker of something passed through his eyes.
Then—
“Everyone,” he said, his voice cutting through the room effortlessly, “this is my wife.”
The word hit differently this time.
Wife.
Not just something said in private.
Something announced.
Claimed.
“Lena Giordano.”
Silence.
Then—
“Mrs. Giordano,” one of the men said, nodding his head slightly.
Then another.
And another.
Respect.
Not for me.
For him.
For what I now represented.
I swallowed, forcing myself to nod back.
“Good morning.”
My voice was steady.
Thank God.
“She will be present at future events and meetings where necessary,” Luca continued. “You will treat her accordingly.”
A pause.
Then—
“Understood, sir.”
Sir.
Of course.
Everything about this screamed power.
And I was standing right in the middle of it.
Luca stepped closer to me, just enough that I could feel his presence beside me.
“Stay close,” he murmured under his breath.
Not a suggestion.
I didn’t move.
“I am,” I replied quietly.
Another flicker in his eyes.
Then he turned his attention back to the room.
The meeting continued, voices blending into something I couldn’t fully follow—business, deals, numbers, names.
But I noticed things.
The way people looked at Luca.
Careful.
Respectful.
A little afraid.
And then…
The way they looked at me.
Curious.
Cautious.
Wondering.
Who is she?
Why her?
How long will she last?
My fingers curled slightly at my sides.
I wasn’t going to be weak.
Not here.
Not in front of them.
The meeting eventually ended, people filing out one by one.
The room grew quieter.
Until it was just us.
I let out a breath I didn’t realise I had been holding.
“Well?” Luca’s voice cut through the silence.
I turned to him. “Well what?”
He studied me.
“You didn’t embarrass me.”
I blinked.
“That’s your standard?”
“It’s your requirement.”
My lips pressed together.
Right.
Of course it was.
He stepped closer.
Again.
Always too close.
“You held yourself well,” he added.
There it was again.
That unexpected shift.
Not soft.
But not cold either.
Something in between.
“I told you I wouldn’t fail,” I said quietly.
His gaze lingered on mine for a second longer than necessary.
“I’m starting to believe that.”
My heart skipped.
Annoyingly.
I hated that it did.
Then he stepped back, like the moment hadn’t happened.
“Get used to it,” he said. “This is only the beginning.”
My stomach tightened.
“What’s next?” I asked.
His expression darkened slightly.
“A dinner tonight.”
Of course there was.
“With people who matter,” he continued. “Which means you will behave accordingly.”
I let out a small breath.
“I’ve got that part.”
He tilted his head slightly.
“Do you?”
I met his gaze, holding it.
“Yes.”
A pause.
Then—
“Good.”
He turned away, already done with the conversation.
Like I was just another part of his schedule.
Another responsibility.
Another asset.
I stood there for a second longer, watching him.
Trying to understand him.
Trying to understand this world I had just been thrown into.
The mafia wife.
That’s what I was now.
Not Lena.
Not the girl with a normal life.
Not the girl who had choices.
Something else.
Something controlled.
Something watched.
Something owned.
My chest tightened slightly as the reality settled in again.
One year.
Just survive one year.
That’s all I had to do.
Right?
But as I turned to leave, one thought lingered in the back of my mind—
This wasn’t going to be as simple as surviving.
Not with him.
Not in this world.
And definitely not…
As Luca Giordano’s wife.
- Writer
