THE MAFIA TYRANT SECRET

Vivienne had never believed that a beautiful life meant an easy one. At twenty-four, she had a degree in fashion design, a wardrobe most women would envy, a sharp tongue that frequently got her into trouble, and a fiancé she had loved since childhood. What she did not have was her mother. And no amount of money could change that. Standing before the tall mirror in her bedroom, Vivienne adjusted the neckline of her burgundy dress and studied her reflection. Her red hair fell in soft waves over her shoulders, framing her face. She was curvy, with a full figure she had learned to appreciate despite the opinions of people who seemed to believe women owed the world an apology for taking up space. She turned sideways. “Perfect.” Her phone rang before she could admire herself any longer. **ADRIAN CALLING.** Her lips curved into a smile. “Good morning, future husband.” “Good morning, beautiful.” Adrian’s voice was smooth, familiar, and warm enough to make her smile widen. “Are you ready for tonight?” “Depends. Are you taking me somewhere expensive?” He laughed. “When have I ever disappointed you?” Vivienne raised an eyebrow at her reflection. “Would you like me to answer that honestly or preserve your dignity?” “You’re impossible.” “And yet, you proposed.” “Unfortunately, I was already in love by then.” She laughed, and for a moment, everything felt normal. Adrian had been part of her life for so long that she could barely remember what growing up without him would have looked like. They had attended the same school, shared childhood secrets, and spent years promising each other that they would get married someday. Her mother had loved him. That mattered to Vivienne more than she sometimes admitted. Before her mother died, she had wanted to see Vivienne married to the boy who had grown up beside her. She had even joked that she would haunt them both if they dared to cancel the wedding. Vivienne's smile faded slightly. “Mum would have loved all this,” she murmured. Adrian was quiet for a moment. “She would have loved seeing you happy.” “I wish she were here.” “I know, baby.” Vivienne swallowed the familiar ache in her throat. “Anyway, where are you taking me tonight?” “It's a surprise. I'll send a driver to pick you up.” “I have my own car.” “I know. But let me spoil my future wife for once.” She narrowed her eyes playfully. “You are suspiciously generous today.” “Just be ready by seven.” The call ended, leaving Vivienne smiling at her phone. She set it down and glanced toward the wooden jewellery box on her dresser. Inside it lay a delicate necklace her mother had given her on her twenty-first birthday. Beside the necklace was a small photograph of them together. Her mother had been beautiful, elegant, and stubborn enough to argue with an entire room of people without raising her voice. Vivienne missed everything about her—even the little lectures about eating properly and not spending too much money on clothes. She touched the photograph. “I’m doing my best, Mum.” Then she closed the box. There were things her mother had left behind besides memories. A house filled with their history. Documents she had instructed Vivienne to protect. And a magnificent crown, valued at fifty million dollars, that had belonged to her mother's family. The crown was not merely jewellery. It was a legacy. Vivienne had never worn it outside the house. She kept it secured, away from curious eyes, because her mother had made her promise never to treat it as an ordinary possession. It was one of the few things in the world she would never sell. Her phone vibrated again. This time, it was a message from Adrian. Don't forget the documents I asked you about. Vivienne frowned. She typed back. Which documents? His reply arrived almost immediately. The property papers. We should organise everything before the wedding. She stared at the screen. It was not an unreasonable request. They were getting married, and Adrian had recently been dealing with problems at his company. He had mentioned needing help with some paperwork. Still, something about his sudden interest in her mother's property unsettled her. She decided not to argue over text. We'll talk about it later. She slipped her phone into her handbag and headed downstairs. Outside, the morning sun shone over the city. Her driver was waiting beside her car, but Vivienne waved him away. She wanted to drive herself. She needed fresh air, music, and a little time to think. Besides, she had never liked being treated as though she were too delicate to handle her own life. She settled behind the wheel, started the engine, and pulled onto the road. For the first few minutes, everything went smoothly. She sang along to the music, tapping her fingers against the steering wheel. Her thoughts wandered to her wedding dress, the business she hoped to build, and the designs she had been sketching late into the night. She wanted a fashion house of her own. Not a little boutique that people visited because they felt sorry for a rich man's wife. She wanted a serious business one that could stand on its own, create jobs, and put her designs on international runways. She wanted Adrian to be proud of her. More importantly, she wanted to be proud of herself. A traffic light turned red ahead. Vivienne slowed. Then she noticed the black car approaching from the side. It was moving too fast. Her brows drew together. “Is this man blind?” She pressed her horn. The other driver did not slow down. For one suspended second, she saw the vehicle's headlights glaring through the windshield. Then came the impact. Metal crashed against metal. Glass shattered. Her car spun violently, and the world became a blur of noise, pain, and flashing light. The seat belt tightened across her body. Her head struck something hard, and a sharp ringing filled her ears. When the car finally stopped moving, silence settled around her. Vivienne tried to breathe. Her chest hurt. Something warm trickled down the side of her forehead. “Help…” The word barely escaped her lips. Through her damaged windshield, she could see the black car several metres away. Its front end was crushed. A man was moving near the wreckage, shouting for help. Another person was slumped inside. A young woman. Vivienne tried to open her door, but pain shot through her body. She cried out and fell back against the seat. Her vision blurred. The last thing she remembered before everything went dark was the sight of a tall, dark-haired man standing beside the other car. He looked terrifyingly calm for someone standing in the middle of a disaster. Then he turned his head. For a fleeting moment, their eyes met through the broken glass. And the world disappeared. The first thing Vivienne heard when she regained consciousness was a steady beeping. The second was a woman crying. The third was a doctor saying, “She's awake.” Her eyelids fluttered. White ceiling. Bright lights. The sharp smell of antiseptic. A hospital. Vivienne tried to sit up, but a hand gently pressed against her shoulder. “Easy, madam. Don't move too quickly.” She turned her head. A nurse stood beside her bed, checking the monitor. “What happened?” Vivienne whispered. “You were in an accident. You've been brought here for treatment.” “My car…” “We'll discuss everything later. Right now, you need to rest.” Vivienne swallowed, her throat dry. “Was anyone else hurt?” The nurse hesitated. That hesitation frightened her more than the pain. “There were other people involved,” the nurse said carefully. “The doctors are treating them.” Vivienne closed her eyes. She did not know the people in the other car. She did not know their names or why the driver had been moving so recklessly. She only hoped they would survive. A doctor arrived and examined her, explaining that she had suffered several injuries and needed observation. She would remain in the hospital for the next few days. Vivienne listened, nodded, and asked for her phone. It had been damaged in the crash, but the hospital had managed to recover her handbag. When she finally got a working phone, she called Adrian. He answered on the fourth ring. “Vivienne? Where have you been? I've been trying to reach you.” She stared at the hospital blanket covering her legs. “I had an accident.” Silence. Then his voice changed. “What?” “I'm in the hospital. A car hit mine.” “Are you seriously injured?” “I don't know yet. The doctors say I need to stay here for a few days.” “I'll see what I can do.” Vivienne waited. She expected him to ask which hospital she was in. She expected him to say he was coming immediately, that he needed to see her with his own eyes. Instead, he added, “I've got a lot happening at the company right now. I'll call you again.” The call ended. Vivienne stared at her phone. Perhaps he was in a meeting. Perhaps he was panicking and didn't know what to say. Perhaps she was being unfair. She placed the phone beside her and turned toward the window. For the first time that day, she felt truly alone. She did not know that the man from the other car had already learned she was alive. She did not know that his younger sister was fighting for her life in the same hospital. And she certainly did not know that the accident would eventually place her in the path of a man whose name could make powerful people tremble. For now, Vivienne had only one thought. She needed to get well. Her wedding was approaching. And she still believed she was about to marry the man she loved.