Fate’s Forbidden Mafia Heir

Chapter Five: The Dinner of Deceit

Elena

I stared at myself in the mirror for too long, trying to see the girl I used to be.

She was gone.

The reflection now was someone else entirely—someone sharper, colder, dressed in blood-red silk that clung to my curves like a warning. My hair was pulled back into a crown of pins and curls, and my lips were the exact same shade as the wine in the Chairman’s decanter. I looked powerful. Unapproachable. Like someone no one could hurt.

And I hated it.

Tonight’s family dinner wasn’t just about appearances. It never was. It was politics. A statement. A calculated move by a man who’d raised me like a soldier instead of a granddaughter.

A knock at the door.

I turned, expecting one of the maids. But Nico stood there, a shadow framed in the light. No suit jacket. Black shirt open at the collar. The raw edge of rebellion in his posture. And something darker in his eyes.

We hadn’t spoken since the night in my room. Since we kissed like we’d never get another chance. Since we laid next to each other and shared a silence that was louder than any confession.

I didn’t trust anyone—not even myself. But Nico? Nico I wanted to believe in. That was the most dangerous part.

“You look...” He stopped mid-sentence, his voice lower than usual. “Like sin dressed in silk.”

I smirked, but my hands trembled at my sides. “You’re not supposed to be in my room.”

He stepped in anyway, slow and deliberate. “That’s never stopped me.”

The door closed behind him.

We didn’t touch. We didn’t need to.

He just stood there, staring at me like I was the only thing tethering him to this life. And maybe I was. Maybe he was that for me too.

“You ready for the circus?” he asked.

“No,” I said. “But I know how to perform.”

He nodded once. “Then let’s give them a show.”

***

The dining room glittered like something from a palace—long mahogany table, chandeliers spilling light onto gold-rimmed china and crystal goblets. The room was already full when we arrived, everyone dressed like royalty and smiling like wolves.

I took my seat beside my grandfather, directly across from Nico.

He didn’t look at me. Not openly. But I felt his gaze like a second heartbeat.

The Chairman rose with his usual slow authority, letting the silence fall over the table like a curtain.

“I want to begin by addressing the family,” he said. “And reminding everyone of our strength, our unity, and our legacy.”

Polite nods. Hollow smiles.

He continued, “As Elena comes of age and takes on more responsibility, it is vital we ensure her safety. As such, Nico has been assigned to her as her personal protector.”

A few forks clattered against porcelain. That was new.

My throat tightened. I hadn’t been told. Not even a warning.

From across the table, Nico’s jaw tensed.

I glanced sideways at my cousin Lorenzo, whose sharp cheekbones and smug grin never failed to grate on my nerves.

“With all due respect, sir,” Lorenzo drawled, “are you certain that’s wise? A former stray watching over our legacy?”

The Chairman didn’t flinch. “I don’t make decisions based on bloodlines. I make them based on loyalty.”

And just like that, the message was clear.

You can all be replaced.

I forced my hand to stay steady as I lifted my wine glass. Nico didn’t speak. Didn’t defend himself. But he didn’t need to. The Chairman’s decree was gospel.

Still, my skin itched with unease. My grandfather had warned Nico to stay away from me. Now he was assigning him to guard me?

What game was this?

After the toast and the forced laughter, I pushed my food around the plate, unable to swallow more than a few bites. Conversations flowed around me, too rehearsed, too polite. I caught snippets of international deals, marriages being arranged, alliances traded like currency.

All the while, Nico stayed still—watching, listening, calculating.

And I watched him.

Especially when he wasn’t looking.

***

Back in my room, I ripped the pins from my hair and tossed them onto the vanity, one by one, like blades. The silk dress puddled around my feet, and I stood in the mirror again—bare, but not vulnerable.

A knock at the door. Again.

This time I didn’t say anything. I just waited.

The door creaked open. Nico stepped in, not saying a word as he shut it behind him.

“I didn’t know,” he said. “What your grandfather planned.”

I nodded slowly, turning to face him. “But you didn’t argue, either.”

“I couldn’t. Not in front of them.”

“So what now?” I asked, walking past him to grab my robe. “You follow me around like a dog while everyone whispers about whether we’re sleeping together?”

He didn’t flinch. “Let them whisper.”

I froze.

“I don’t care what they think,” he said. “I care what you think.”

“That’s the problem,” I whispered, tying the robe around my waist. “I don’t know what I think anymore.”

He stepped closer. “Then let me help.”

I looked up. “How?”

“By being the only one in this house who doesn’t lie to you.”

My eyes searched his. “You say that like you’re not hiding things.”

“I’m not hiding from you.”

His hand brushed my shoulder, and I didn’t move away.

“I’m trying to protect you,” he said.

“I don’t need protection.”

“Everyone does, Elena. Even the strong.”

He took my hand, his thumb brushing over the pulse at my wrist.

“You think I don’t see the way you carry yourself in that room? The armor you wear in front of your grandfather?”

“I wear it because I have to,” I said, voice shaking. “Because I’m surrounded by people who’d rather watch me fall than help me stand.”

“You don’t have to wear it with me.”

My breath caught.

“You look at me like I’m more than a name,” I said. “More than a legacy.”

“You are.”

We were close now—too close. But I didn’t back away.

“Say it,” I whispered.

“I’m in love with you,” he said.

And just like that, the rest of the world disappeared.

He kissed me again, and this time it wasn’t desperate or frantic. It was slow. Deep. Full of promises neither of us dared speak aloud.

His hands found my waist. Mine slid around his neck. We sank together onto the edge of the bed like it was inevitable—like it had always been meant to happen this way.

We didn’t undress.

We didn’t rush.

We just kissed like we were drowning and the other was air.

When he finally pulled back, he rested his forehead against mine.

“I want to take you away from all of this,” he said.

“Then do it,” I whispered. “Take me somewhere no one knows our names.”

“I would,” he said. “But you and I both know we were never meant for peace.”

And he was right.

Because even as I lay there, tangled in the arms of the one person who felt real, I knew war was coming.

And I didn’t know which of us would survive it.