lawfully trapped with the Mafia boss

Chapter 3

Annie’s POV

I arrived at the airport around 1 a.m., but our flight to California wasn’t scheduled to depart until 2 a.m. A delay was announced, further stretching the wait. Mr. Dicosta had insisted I take his private jet, but I declined. He had already done so much for me, and I didn’t want to take advantage of his generosity.

When the flight finally took off, I was eager to leave behind the city where my life had taken such a dramatic turn. By the time we landed in California at 8 p.m., I was exhausted.

Finding my driver didn’t take long. He stood in the arrivals area holding a name tag with my name on it. My breath caught for a moment—this man could pass as a model rather than a driver. His sharp features and poised demeanor made him look like a piece of art brought to life.

“Hello, I’m Annie,” I said, extending my hand.

“Hello, I’m Mike,” he replied with a nod, his voice steady and polite.

Mike directed me to an SUV parked in the lot. I climbed into the passenger seat, grateful for the comfortable silence. The drive wasn’t awkward; in fact, it was surprisingly pleasant. Mike played Alan Jackson’s “The Older I Get,” a song I hadn’t heard in ages but loved. It felt like a warm hug, calming my nerves.

When the SUV pulled into a mansion, my jaw dropped. The house was enormous, with intricate details that made it look more like a palace than a home.

“Mike, are you sure this is the right place?” I asked, still staring at the grand structure.

He nodded wordlessly, a slight smile tugging at his lips.

Mike led me to the front door, where a woman in her forties greeted me with a warm but formal smile.

“Welcome home, young madam. I’m Elizabeth,” she said.

“Please, call me Annie,” I replied, overwhelmed by her use of “young madam.”

Elizabeth guided me through the lavish interior, each room more breathtaking than the last. When we reached my room, I could hardly believe my eyes. It was bigger than all the rooms in my old apartment combined. The balcony overlooked a stunning garden, and a walk-in closet and luxurious bathroom completed the space.

“This is… incredible,” I murmured.

Elizabeth smiled gently. “Dinner will be served in 30 minutes, young madam.”

I sighed, deciding not to correct her again.

As soon as Elizabeth left, my phone rang. The number was unfamiliar, but I answered without hesitation.

“Hello, Annie. This is Vicento Andriano, your elder brother.”

I froze. My elder brother? What?

As if sensing my disbelief, he continued. “You’ll meet the rest of the family soon. You have another brother besides me. The mansion you’re staying in belongs to our parents, so feel at home.”

He proceeded to give me detailed instructions. “The password to open the study is Annie Andriano. Inside, you’ll find a black card in the first drawer of the desk and some documents in your name. The card is unlimited—use it for anything you need. The maids and staff are there to help you with whatever you require.”

Still processing everything, I stammered, “Vicento… when are you coming to see me?”

“Soon, princess. I’m on a business trip, but your other brother, Devin, will be in California in three days. You’ll be staying together.”

I couldn’t help but smile at the thought.

Vicento’s tone turned more serious. “Annie, I heard you applied to be the CEO’s secretary at Dicosta Conglomerate. You don’t need to stress yourself—I can find you a position in our family’s company.”

“I think I’ll stick to the original plan for now,” I replied softly.

Taking a deep breath, I asked the question that had been haunting me. “Why… why did you all stay away from me for so long?”

His voice softened. “We kept you away to give you a normal life, free from the dangers of our world. But after the attack, you’re no longer safe. Mike is your bodyguard—don’t go anywhere without him. I don’t mean to scare you, princess, but this is the life our parents tried to shield you from.

After freshening up, I headed downstairs, hoping to find someone to guide me to the dining area. Elizabeth appeared as if on cue.

“Young madam, I was just coming to get you.”

“Please, call me Annie,” I said again, earning another polite smile.

The dining area was massive, capable of hosting over 30 people. I sat awkwardly at the long table, feeling out of place in such grandeur.

Dinner was served by a young woman around my age. She seemed nervous, her gaze fixed on the floor as she placed the dishes before me—mushroom risotto and tiramisu for dessert.

The risotto was delicious, and I made a mental note to ask the staff to teach me how to prepare it.

Elizabeth reappeared after dinner, introducing two other staff members: Hannah, who helped with cleaning, and Evans, the gardener.

Back in my room, curiosity got the better of me. I searched the name Vicento Andriano online. What I found was limited but impressive. Vicento was the CEO of the Andriano Conglomerate, a company with global influence. Their father had handed over the reins to him three years ago, and he had since expanded the empire.

Despite the information, many details about my family remained shrouded in mystery.

The next morning, I was woken by my phone ringing incessantly. Groaning, I picked it up without checking the caller ID.

“Lazy ass, wake up!”

I groaned. “Lena, why do I put up with you?”

Lena Wilson, my best friend since grade five, had always been a ball of energy. Her family had relocated to California three years ago, but we kept in touch.

We chatted briefly, agreeing to meet up the next day.

Hannah showed me around the mansion later that afternoon. The garden, with its fountain and vibrant flowers, reminded me of an old picture I’d once seen of a little girl in a similar setting.

The pool and the luxurious decor of the house left me awestruck. “How rich are my parents?” I wondered aloud.

Finally, I asked Hannah to show me the study. Punching in the password—Annie Andriano—made me pause. If my last name was Andriano, what did that mean about my identity?

Inside the study, a portrait caught my eye. It was of a man, handsome and imposing, his cold expression exuding power.

“Is this my father?” I whispered, stepping closer to the dark brown desk in the middle of the room.