My contract marriage to a Mafia boss

Chapter3

Anna’s POV

The flight back to the city was completely silent, but my mind was screaming.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Adrian’s face. Five years, For five years, I had struggled to pay for groceries, skipped meals so Sophie could have shoes, and wept myself to sleep wondering why the man from that night had vanished into thin air. And now, I found out he was a billionaire. He was Damien’s older brother.

Worse, he hadn’t even blinked when he looked at me. To him, I wasn’t heartbroken. I was just a ghost he couldn't bother to remember.

"You're shaking," Damien's cold, smooth voice cut through the drone of the private jet's engines.

I snapped my head up, pulling my wool coat tighter around my shoulders. We were sitting across from each other in the luxurious leather seats of the cabin. Emily was further back, discreetly checking her phone.

"I'm fine," I lied, my voice tight. "Just tired."

"You look like you've seen a ghost, Anna." Damien leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His striking blue eyes locked onto mine, analyzing every micro-expression. "Or perhaps, you recognized my brother?"

My heart stopped. I forced my face to remain completely blank, drawing on every ounce of my acting training. If Damien knew that Sophie was Adrian's daughter, he would use her as a pawn in his war for the empire. I couldn't let that happen.

"I don't know him," I said, looking Damien dead in the eye. "But he looked at me like I was dirt under his shoe. Your family is... charming."

Damien let out a low, dark chuckle, though his eyes remained entirely cold. "Adrian thinks everyone is beneath him. He is arrogant, sloppy, and believes the Blackwood empire belongs to him by birthright. But he is wrong. I am going to take everything from him."

"And where do I fit into this chess match?" I asked, trying to steer the conversation away from my past.

"A married man looks stable, dependable, and mature to the board of directors," Damien explained, leaning back. "Adrian’s marriage to Iris is a public sham. If I present a united, elegant front with you, the board will lean toward me when the final vote for the company control happens. You play the dotting, beautiful wife, and I ensure you and Sophie never have to worry about a single cent for the rest of your lives."

I swallowed hard. It sounded so simple. But now that I knew the stakes, it felt like walking into a lion's den with a steak tied around my neck.

By the time the jet landed and a sleek black limousine drove us to the sprawling, high-security Blackwood Estate, night had fallen. The estate was terrifyingly massive—a stone fortress surrounded by iron gates and armed guards.

Emily opened the door for me, her professional smile back in place. "Welcome home, Mrs. Blackwood."

The words made a shiver run down my spine.

Damien led me through the grand double doors into a breathtaking marble foyer. Standing at the bottom of the grand staircase was an older man in a pristine suit, holding a silver tray.

"Ah, Mr. Damien," the man said, bowing his head slightly. "Welcome back. And this must be the new lady of the house."

"Anna, this is Ryan Vincent," Damien introduced casually. "He is our family butler and the head of our legal team. Ryan handles... everything."

Ryan offered me a polite, calculating smile. "An absolute pleasure, Madam. I have already arranged for your belongings to be brought to the master suite. If there is anything you or your daughter need, you only have to ask."

"Thank you, Ryan," I murmured. There was something about the way the older man looked at me sharp, knowing glint in his eyes that made me deeply uncomfortable. It felt less like a welcome and more like a spider watching a fly land on its web.

Before I could say anything else, the sound of clicking heels echoed from the upper balcony.

"Well, well. I didn't believe it when the guards whispered about a wedding."

I looked up. Walking down the stairs was a stunning woman with sharp features and a malicious smile. She wore a red designer dress that screamed old money and power. This had to be Iris, Adrian's wife.

"Iris," Damien said, his tone dripping with fake politeness. "Where is my brother?"

"In the study, brooding as usual," Iris replied, her eyes sweeping over me like she was inspecting a cheap piece of meat. "So, this is the actress? I must say, Damien, I expected someone with a bit more... pedigree. She looks like she belongs in a soap opera, not a palace."

"Careful, Iris," Damien warned, his voice dropping an octave, becoming dangerous. "You are speaking to my wife."

Iris laughed, a high, mocking sound. "Of course. My apologies. I'm sure you two will be very happy... for the next twelve months." She leaned closer to me, her perfume sickeningly sweet. "A word of advice, darling. Don't get too comfortable. In this family, outsiders have a habit of disappearing."

With a cruel smirk, she turned and walked away, her heels clicking loudly against the marble.

"Ignore her," Damien said smoothly, acting as if the threat hadn't even happened. "Ryan will show you to your room. I have business to attend to."

Without waiting for a response, Damien strode off toward the west wing of the house, leaving me alone with Ryan.

"Right this way, Madam," Ryan said, gesturing toward the stairs.

The estate was quiet, almost suffocatingly so. As Ryan led me down a long, dimly lit hallway lined with old family portraits, my mind raced. I needed to see Sophie. Damien had arranged for her to be brought to the estate ahead of us under Emily's supervision, and I wouldn't rest until I held my baby girl in my arms.

Suddenly, a heavy oak door to my left swung open.

I stopped dead in my tracks.

Adrian Blackwood stepped out of the room, holding a glass of amber scotch. He looked tired, his tie loosened, but his aura was still incredibly commanding and terrifying.

Ryan bowed. "Mr. Adrian."

Adrian didn't look at the butler. His dark eyes locked directly onto me. He took a slow sip of his drink, stepping fully into the hallway, blocking our path.

"So, you're the woman my little brother brought home to secure his shares," Adrian sneered, his voice low and mocking. He took a step closer, towering over me. "Tell me, sweetheart, how much is he paying you to pretend to love a monster like him?"

I forced myself to stand tall, refusing to let him see how terrified I was. "That is none of your business, Adrian."

Hearing his name leave my lips made him freeze. Adrian squinted, his eyes scanning my face with a sudden, intense scrutiny. The mocking smirk slowly faded from his lips, replaced by a deep, confused frown. He took another step forward, so close I could smell the rich scent of his cologne—the exact same scent from five years ago.

"Have we met before?" Adrian asked, his voice losing its arrogance, replaced by a sharp, sudden suspicion. "Your face... you look incredibly familiar."

My breath hitched in my throat. My heart pounded so hard I was certain he could hear it. Before I could find the words to lie, a door further down the hallway cracked open.

"Mamma?"

A small, sleepy voice echoed through the silent corridor.

Adrian and I both snapped our heads toward the sound. Rubbing her eyes, holding her favorite stuffed bear, four-year-old Sophie stepped out into the hallway, looking for me.

Adrian’s eyes moved from me to the little girl. He froze completely, his glass of scotch slipping from his hand and shattering loudly against the hardwood floor. He stared at Sophie’s face at her eyes, her nose, her features that were a mirror image of his own and the color completely drained from his face.

He looked back at me, his eyes wide with a mixture of shock, realization, and pure, unadulterated fury.

"Who," Adrian whispered, his voice trembling with a terrify

ing rage as he stepped toward me, "is that child?"