The bride of the pact

Chapter four

VIVIANA

“Vivi, that was unlike you back there. You’ve always been polite to people,” Livia said softly from behind me as I stormed into my room.

“Yeah? Look where that’s gotten me so far.”

“I hate Jake already, Vivi. I can’t overlook that. I never wanted anything to do with a mafioso.”

“Yeah? Yet you know I was pregnant for the heir to a violent mafia gang.” Livia chuckled mockingly.

“I didn’t know who he truly was. Now I’m just stuck with another monster.”

“Vivi, it’s okay to cry. You’re overwhelmed, especially after being forced to abort your baby.”

“I don’t want your pity. I want a cold bath.”

“Alright.” Livia left, and I collapsed onto the bed, sobbing.

I’ve always been an optimist, someone who clings to hope. But this time—there was nothing. Getting married to Jake had nothing hopeful about it. He’s as cruel as my father and a brutal womanizer. Mafia I hated, but a womanizer? That was worse. Why can’t most men stick to one woman?

“Miss Viviana. A message from your father.”

“What is it?”

“Prepare yourself. You’re getting married in two days.”

“What? Why? That’s too sudden!” I barked, confused.

“Your fiancé insisted it can’t take longer than two days, ma’am.”

“Get out of my way!” I shoved the messenger aside and rushed to my father, who was seeing Jake off to his car.

“Papa, this is too sudden! Two days?”

“You disrespect me, young woman.”

“Are you so desperate to sell me off to some fuckboy?” I ranted at Jake, who just smiled and slid into his car.

God, he annoys me.

“Get prepared, princess,” he called, speeding off.

“This is against my rights, Papa! Why are you doing this? Do you owe him? Are you selling me out?”

“Young woman, this is your last warning before I teach you how to use your mouth.”

Emotions are such a f*****g mess.

Tears streamed down my face as I watched my father walk away, Livia rushing to my side. First, they took my baby away. Now this—marriage to a devil in two days when I’m still bleeding from the abortion. It was only yesterday. I hate myself.

“Vivi, please stop crying. Maybe it’s not as bad as you think.” Livia tried to comfort me, fighting back her own tears. She’s terrible at this.

“They took my baby. My first fruit. Because of him. I want him to rot in hell.”

---

JAKE

“Drive me to my lawyer.”

“Yes, sir.”

I sat silent as the car drove, Vivi’s rebellious fire filling my thoughts. This marriage will be far from boring—full of chaos. I can’t wait to watch her drama unfold—and give her mind-blowing s*x that’ll make her appreciate my womanizing. The thought of pounding her hard, hearing her scream my name, made my blood boil—until my phone buzzed, jolting me back.

“What now, Enzo?” I snapped, irritated.

“I’ve got the guest list for next week’s party.”

“Why now?” I asked, more annoyed.

“Because Dante Corsini is back—and he’ll be there.”

“Perfect. The odds are finally in my favor. Track his every move till then.” I smiled and ended the call.

Dante Corsini. My longtime rival who barely escaped with a split skull from my axe years ago. A monk—just without the prayers and a big scar on his head. He’s back. After hiding for years following a raid on one of my parties where his men killed one of my nephews.

Pussies.

My sister’s tears haunt me to this day. If there’s one thing I’ve never done, it’s getting children involved in my business. I might be a soulless creep—but not a killer of children. Dante crossed the line by killing a child to get his way, and worse—a nephew of my sister, who was hesitant to attend that party. I was the one who persuaded her. So, in a way, I caused his death.

A child’s life for a life.

I don’t believe in an eye for an eye. Sometimes you get lucky and kill your enemy, sometimes you don’t. But not for children—they’re innocent. That’s why, in all my years f*****g around, I’m careful. No condom, no pregnancy. If I’m not pulling out or using protection, you’re among the rare clean bitches I’d risk. So far, they haven’t exceeded three.

A grudge keeps you alive—keeps you thirsty for revenge. And the only action I have for Dante Corsini is driving a bullet through his skull.

“We’re here, sir.” My driver announced.

Lost in thought, I hadn’t noticed.

“Don’t park. Wait here. I’ll be in and out,” I ordered, adjusting my cufflinks and stepping out.

I stormed into the building and headed straight to my lawyer’s office. The look on his face told me he was terrified. He should be.

“Going somewhere?” I asked, dropping into a seat.

“No… no,” he stuttered.

“I was just getting my kids from school,” he replied nervously, fidgeting.

“Mr. Jake, I swear it wasn’t my fault. I had nothing to do with it,” he added, running his hands through files.

“Then explain why the Corsinis burned down the estate I bought yesterday—a place only you, me, and Enzo knew about.” I barked, nearly losing my temper.

“I was threatened. If I didn’t cooperate, my children would be killed.”

“Who the f**k threatened you?” I demanded, my anger boiling.

“Alessandro Rossetti.”

His lips trembled, eyes darting—like the truth itself might kill him.

Silence detonated between us. My pulse roared.

Alessandro?

He wasn’t lying. The way his shoulders sagged under the weight of that name told me everything. Even his sweat pores gave way to all the sweat it had in store as I sensed fear envelope him more.

And in that moment, I realized—this wasn’t just any marriage. It was a game with Alessandro.