The Mafia King's Collateral Bride

Emilia Jones had long given up on fairy tales. After her parents died in a tragic car accident when she was just ten, she was sent to live with her mother’s brother—Uncle Peter—and his wife, Lydia. What was meant to be a new beginning turned into quiet suffering. Their son, Marcus, never missed a chance to remind Emilia she didn’t belong. And her aunt and uncle made it clear: she was a burden, not family. Still, Emilia endured. She finished high school, keeping her head down, working odd jobs on weekends, and tutoring classmates just to save up. Her dream? To become a doctor—something her late mother always wanted for her. .... Emilia jones stood at the front porch of her uncle’s home, clutching a creased envelope in her hand, her knuckles white. The fading light of late evening cast long shadows over the weathered steps. She didn’t notice them—her eyes were locked on the letter she had just pulled from the mailbox, her breath caught somewhere between rage and heartbreak. It was the scholarship confirmation. Or at least it had been. Now, it was torn down the middle, the edges wet like someone had tried to destroy it and thought better of it halfway through. Her name was still visible at the top: “Congratulations, Emilia Jones. You have been awarded—” But the rest was smudged, unreadable. She swallowed the lump in her throat and stepped inside the house. “You opened my mail,” she said flatly. Her aunt Lydia didn’t bother looking up from the television. “Don’t get dramatic, Emmy. It was lying around. I thought it was for Marcus.” “Marcus is illiterate when it comes to medicine,” she snapped. “You knew it wasn’t for him.” “You’re living under our roof, eating our food. You think you can talk to me like that?” Lydia finally turned, eyes cold. Emilia exhaled shakily. “I got into King’s Medical University. On scholarship. Full ride. Abroad. You knew how hard I worked for that.” Peter, her uncle, walked in just then, reeking of cheap gin. “And what are you going to do, eh? Run off overseas and forget us? After everything we’ve done for you?” She stared at him, stunned. “Everything you’ve done? You didn’t even pay my school fees in full. I worked nights as a waitress just to finish high school. You never showed up at any of my school functions. You let Marcus bully me for years. And now you ruin my future?” Lydia scoffed. “Don’t be so dramatic. That scholarship doesn’t matter now.” “Why not?” Peter exchanged a look with his wife. It was Lydia who said it: “Because we needed money. Urgently.” Emilia’s stomach dropped. “What… what did you do?” Peter ran a hand through his thinning hair. “We took a loan.” She stared. “From a bank?” Peter looked away. Emilia's heart began to race. “What kind of bank?” “A private one,” Lydia replied quickly. Too quickly. Then the truth dawned. “No…” she whispered. “You didn’t…” Marcus strolled into the room then, wearing that usual smug grin. “Mafia Bank,” he said mockingly. “You know, the kind where if you don’t pay up, you lose a finger. Or worse.” Emilia’s knees buckled. “You took a mafia loan? Why would you— But i told you not to, that i would work more extra jobs to pay the bills!” “We were desperate!” Peter snapped. “We had no choice.” “We have nothing… what about collateral?” Her voice was barely a whisper, her throat thick with anger. Lydia avoided her eyes. Marcus laughed. “You... They didn’t ask for your permission, cousin.” "What have you done?!" Emilia snapped. There was no reply, only Marcus laughter filled the room. And yes, her life is a joke. *** That night, Emilia didn’t sleep. She stared at the ceiling of her tiny room, surrounded by cracked walls and peeling paint, wondering if this was how her life would end: not in blood, but in betrayal. Her mind flashed back to her childhood—the day social services handed her over to her uncle and his wife after her parents died in a car crash. She was ten. She remembered gripping her stuffed bunny, wide-eyed and quiet, while Lydia had plastered on a fake smile and said, “Of course we’ll take her.” And now that she is twenty. Things had gotten worse, they had sold her. For money. Her savings wouldn’t be enough to cover up the loan, it was a lot of money; millions. "What did they do with that much money?" She whispered to herself, tired and upset; with her face on her palms. She will have to pick up more shifts at the local diner where she works, determined to repay the loan. She had no idea the real storm was still coming. .... One chilly Monday morning, Emilia woke to a strangely silent house. Usually, she’d hear Lydia yelling, or Marcus blaring music. But today—nothing. Confused, she padded into the kitchen. No one. Their room? Empty. Her pulse quickened. The wardrobes were cleared out. The safe—open. Even Marcus’s gaming console was gone. She checked the garage. The car was missing. They’d left her. And not just that—documents scattered on the dining table told a more terrifying story. Loan papers. Stamped with a blood-red insignia she didn’t recognize. The sums were enormous. The loan her uncle had taken from some sort of underground bank. And now, they were gone. That night, as the cold crept in, Emilia sat curled on the couch, hands trembling. Her world had collapsed in one day. No family. No university. No money. Just silence.