BOUND TO THE MAFIA BILLIONAIRE

I used to believe Paris could never look dull. The city glittered even on its worst days, rain soaking the pavements, tourists whining, metro doors slamming shut too quickly. Somehow, Paris still shimmered. But on the day my life shattered, the entire city felt washed out, like someone had drained the saturation from my world and left only grey behind. I stood in front of the glass doors of Saint-Claire Hospital, gripping my phone so tightly my fingers tingled. My heart thudded against my ribs, every beat sharp, uneven, painful. The voicemail from earlier still echoed in my head. “Miss Aria… it’s about your mother. You should come immediately.” Immediately. It was the kind of word that sounded like a command from God Himself. My scarf fluttered around my neck as a cold gust whipped across the street. Parisian winter was cruel, but that day it felt vindictive, like the city was angry at me. Like it knew something was wrong and wanted me to feel it in my bones. Inside the hospital, the disinfectant air wrapped around me. Harsh lights. Rushed footsteps. Quiet sobs somewhere down the hall. I hated hospitals. They always smelled like endings. “Miss Aria?” a nurse approached. “Yes?” My voice came out thin, almost not mine. “Your mother is stable for now. But you should see her. This way.” Stable. A word that held hope and fear in equal measure. I followed her through the maze of white corridors, each step heavier than the last. When she finally stopped in front of a door, I felt my throat close. “You can go in.” I nodded and pushed the door open. My mother lay on the bed, her skin pale, her breathing shallow, her eyes closed. Machines beeped quietly beside her, like tiny reminders that she was still here, barely hanging on, but here. “Mom…” I whispered as I walked to her side. Her fingers twitched. Then slowly, her eyes fluttered open. “Aria…” she breathed. I swallowed hard. “I’m here.” She smiled yet weak, tired, heartbreakingly gentle. “You shouldn’t cry, chérie.” “I’m not,” I lied. A tear slipped down my cheek right after the lie left my mouth. She lifted her hand, touching my face with trembling fingers. “You have your father’s stubbornness. You always think you need to carry everything alone.” “Please don’t talk about him,” I whispered sharply. Her brows furrowed with that familiar sadness. “He didn’t mean to leave us.” “He chose work over us,” I said through clenched teeth. “That’s choosing.” “Aria” “No, Mom. You don’t have to defend him. Not when you’re the one who stayed.” She exhaled softly but didn’t argue. My mother always had a way of loving too gently, forgiving too quickly. She was light. Warmth. Patience. Things I’d never been good at. She squeezed my hand. “Promise me something.” My heart stumbled. “What?” “When I’m gone—” “No.” The word flew out like a reflex. Like breathing. “No. Don’t say that. You’re not going anywhere.” She smiled sadly. “Everyone goes eventually, chérie.” I shook my head violently. “No. We’re not having this conversation.” Her grip tightened, surprising me. “Promise me,” she whispered. “Promise you’ll let someone in. Promise you’ll let yourself love… truly love.” I froze. “Mom…” “You’ve kept people away for too long,” she said softly. “You deserve more than loneliness wrapped in ambition.” A hot tear slid down my cheek. “Can we talk about this when you’re better?” She didn’t answer. Not with words. Instead, she gave me a look I recognized instantly, a mother’s farewell disguised as hope. Before I could speak again, she suddenly winced in pain. “Mom?” Her breathing grew erratic. The machine started beeping faster. A nurse rushed in. Then another. “Miss, you need to step out” “No! Mom!” My voice cracked as the nurse gently pulled me back. “Ma’am, we need space” The room spun. My chest tightened. I stumbled into the corridor, breath shaking, hands trembling. I pressed my back against the wall and cried silently, my body wracked with emotion. Minutes stretched. Hours blurred. Time stopped meaning anything. And then… Footsteps approached. “Miss Aria?” A doctor stood in front of me, his expression gentle but grave. I didn’t let him finish. “No,” I whispered, shaking my head. “I’m… very sorry.” The world fell silent. No sound. No heartbeat. No breath. Just a clean, cruel cut straight through my soul. I slid down the wall, my knees hitting the cold floor. I sucked in air, but it felt thin, like Paris had forgotten to breathe with me. My mother was gone. Just like that, the last good thing in my life disappeared. THREE MONTHS LATER They say grief fades. It doesn’t. It just changes shape. Mine became an ache I carried everywhere, walking with me through morning commutes, lingering behind me like a shadow, curling up beside me at night. I moved through days like I was half-asleep, half-alive. Until the email arrived. From:Mr. Damian Subject: URGENT — Estate Settlement (Meeting Required) Estate. Settlement. The words made my stomach twist. My parents had always kept their business separate from mine. So why would a lawyer want to meet with me? I read the email five times, anxiety buzzing under my skin. Then finally, I took a shaky breath, grabbed my coat, and stepped outside. Paris greeted me with sunlight that didn’t feel warm. I walked fast, weaving through crowds until I reached the address in the email, a tall marble building near the Seine, polished doors gleaming like money. Inside, everything smelled expensive. Cold. Professional. I approached the receptionist. “I’m here to see Mr. Damian “Yes, Miss Aria. He’s expecting you.” The elevator ride to the top floor was silent except for the soft hum of classical music. When the doors opened, I stepped into a spacious office overlooking the river. A man in a sleek grey suit turned around. He looked like he’d been sculpted by generational wealth—sharp jaw, colder eyes, posture so perfect it felt almost intimidating. “Miss Aria?” he asked. “Yes,” I said, trying to steady my voice. “I’m Damian Please, have a seat.” I sat across from him, my palms sweaty. He slid a folder toward me. “This concerns your father.” “My father?” I frowned. “I haven’t heard from him in years.” “Nevertheless,” Damian said smoothly, “his passing has legal consequences.” I blinked. His passing? “Wait—my father died?” My voice cracked unexpectedly. Damian nodded. His gaze softened, if only slightly. “I’m sorry for your loss.” Loss. Another one. Another hole in me. But before I could process that blow, he continued: “Your father left behind several financial matters that require immediate attention. And you, Miss Aria… you are his heiress.” My heart slammed against my ribs. “What… what exactly does that mean?” Damian leaned back, studying me with those unreadable grey eyes. “It means,” he said slowly, “your life is about to change.” But it wasn’t his words that unnerved me. It was the way he looked at me—like he knew something about me I didn’t know about myself. Something dangerous. Something life-altering. Something that would pull me into a world I never belonged to. A world where grief wasn’t the only thing waiting for me.