STOLE MAFIA'S HEART

His coming

AT MR. BANKER'S FAMILY MANSION

Mrs. Grace Banker

"I have a wonderful surprise for you, my dear daughter-in-law." Mrs. Banker declared with an infectious cheer.

"Just tell me! Did Chase finally set a date for our wedding?" Olga asked, her enthusiasm evident as she took a sip of her tea.

"Oh, my poor girl. What I meant to say is that my son, Chase, will be returning home for a few months along with that unbearable woman who drives me up the wall. However, I am genuinely thrilled that he’ll be spending time with us and his grandmother again. This gives you the perfect opportunity to win him over." Mrs. Banker added, nearly rolling her eyes at her own comment.

Olga recognized Chase's feelings all too well; she understood he would never regard her as a potential bride. Still, she nodded in feigned understanding.

"Alright, Mrs. Banker. I will do my utmost to flirt with him and secure that engagement ring." Olga replied, suppressing her own eye roll.

Mrs. Banker flashed her a bright smile and took a sip of her coffee.

ELLA MIA

A persistent knocking at the door jolted me from my slumber. I rolled over, hoping to drift back into sleep, but the knocking only grew louder.

Flicking on the light on my nightstand, I was startled to see that it was six in the morning—a time I typically avoided. Kicking off my blankets, I hurried to the door and flung it open. “Some of us don’t wake up at this hour. Please, next time…” I began, but my words faltered when I realized it was Mr. Banker standing before me.

“Is gossiping about me not enough? Now you want to commandeer my mansion?” he said, his brows knitted in annoyance.

I steadied myself to respond, but he silenced me with a quick gesture.

“Get in the shower; the servant will bring your clothes in five minutes.” he instructed, glancing at his watch. “We’re leaving.”

Before I could react, he gestured toward his watch, emphasizing the urgency of the moment, rolling his eyes as he did so.

I closed the door and stomped my feet in frustration while rushing to shower.

Two minutes later, I emerged feeling presentable. Mr. Banker’s girlfriend—or whatever she was—had impeccable taste. I slipped into a flowing yellow summer dress that accentuated my figure perfectly, paired with white sandals. I tied my hair back in a ponytail to complete my look.

Grabbing my bag, I dashed out of my room, already feeling a twinge of nostalgia about leaving it behind, knowing I wouldn’t return.

As I made my way down the stairs, I spotted Mr. Banker’s grandmother in a wheelchair alongside Chase, who was dressed in a sharp black suit. I couldn’t help but wish I could pull him close and steal a kiss, but his gaze made me uneasy.

“What? Is the dress not to your liking?” I challenged, curious if he was still preoccupied with thoughts of his girlfriend.

“Yes, you look like a grandmother in it. Let’s go; we’re ten minutes late.” he replied, rolling his eyes at me.

I froze in disbelief. ‘Like a grandmother?’ I thought, but the old woman noticed my expression and interjected.

“Chase, mind your words! If you make this sweet child leave me with these pains, I’ll disown you as my grandson.” she said, winking at me, while Chase’s face flushed with irritation.

I smirked, enjoying my small victory, and he retorted. “You can’t say that to me, your favorite grandson, and choose a stranger over me.”

“We're taking your private jet, dummy, so how can we be late?” the old woman replied, rolling her eyes at her grandson.

It appeared that rolling eyes was a family trait among the Bankers. Chase remained silent as he gently pushed his grandmother along.

The flight was filled with an awkward tension. The aloof Chase buried himself in work while the old woman dozed throughout the journey. Meanwhile, I found myself doing little more than staring out the window, visiting the restroom, and sipping coffee, water, or juice until we landed.

Upon our arrival, we took SUVs directly to my house. The only question Chase asked was for directions, after which silence enveloped us as his grandmother took a private jet back home.

Moments later, we arrived at my mansion, the lights illuminating the interior, signaling that my parents and younger brother were inside.

“Please wait here; I’ll only be a minute.” I said, glancing at him, but was met with silence.

Just as I was about to exit, I felt a firm grip on my hand and turned to face him. “Don’t forget to pack enough clothes.” he instructed coldly. I nodded, still feeling a mix of shock and anxiety, and stepped outside.

I couldn’t believe he thought I’d be able to endure staying there every morning to face his mother. The thought of seeing his frosty demeanor daily felt torturous.

I glanced back, surprised to see him approaching me. “No, I need to do this alone, please.” I pleaded, gently pushing him back toward the car clad in his expensive suit.

“Don’t test me. Remember, you owe me, not the other way around, so I’ll do as I please, or the deal is off.” he retorted coldly, sending a chill down my spine.

I sighed deeply, opening the door while he stood next to me, looking so frigid that I felt a wave of anxiety wash over me.

“Daughter.” my father called from the couch, nearly tumbling over when he saw who was beside me.

“You’re not going to welcome me to your mansion, Mr. Mia?” Mr. Coldface asked, his hands in his pockets, staring directly at my father.

“Apologies, Mr. Banker. Please, come in.” my father stammered.

Seeing my father shrink in front of Mr. Coldface ignited a spark of resentment in me toward him.

Mr. Coldface nodded and took a seat in an empty chair. He glanced at me and, with a small smirk, asked. “Care to join us?”

Now I understood; he was seeking revenge for my earlier smirk, which was why he had accompanied me home.

“Mr. Mia, your daughter approached me regarding your debt.” he stated, triggering my father’s fury.

“What?” my father roared, standing abruptly.

“Please, take a seat, Mr. Mia. Let’s not create a scene.” Mr. Banker replied, crossing his legs.

My mother and little brother remained silent, well aware of the building tension.

My father sat, and Mr. Coldface gestured for me to speak.

“Father, Mother, Kenny, I’m sorry about…” I began, but he interrupted.

“Some of us don’t have all day. Mr. Mia, your daughter informed me that she would work for me to settle your debt.” he declared succinctly.

“And work how, Mr. Banker? At your brothel?” my father spat, consumed with rage.

“Don’t insult my generosity, Mr. Mia. I could seize this mansion and your cars, and you’d still owe me. Ella, go pack while I speak with Mr. Mia.” he ordered, leaving me no room to voice my opinion as I retreated to my room.

After packing some of my belongings, I returned to the sitting room, only to find them sipping whiskey and chatting.

Kenny was holding his own while my mother savored a glass of wine.

“What’s going on?” I questioned, bewildered.

My father chuckled and replied. “If you had been straightforward, I wouldn’t be furious. Dear, starting Saturday, you will visit us, as Mr. Banker has agreed, and your mother has packed the herbs you’ll need.”

I stood there, speechless.