The Mafia Boss's Pretend Wife

Chapter seven

Chapter seven

Vivienne Hart POV

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My mind is still trying to contemplate his words, trying to process everything that's happened.

Life is crazy, and it's like a game of maze, one second you have it all and the very next second you have nothing

But in my life I had nothing to begin with. After losing my mother, it was tough, but losing my grandparents scarred me to the extent that I felt like a ghost.

For once, I wanted to do something of my own, but fate trapped me here.

Only if I could change things.

Now I'm a prisoner in someone else's life.

Luciano asked his men to inform everyone to set up lunch for him and his wife.

And I thought I was here as a filler, to pretend as his wife.

Tanya Vitale.

Does he love her? Does she love him?

But what's love in the first place? It's all so foreign to me.

But it must be nice to be in love and be with someone who you can call as your person. And in life, I never had any of this. No one cared for me, let alone love me.

Only if I could have been someone special and popular, but I'm not

School was tough, I used to keep my eyes to the ground, sit in the corner and bury myself inside the books.

Linda and I were two complete opposites.

And the thought of Linda still gives me hope.

Maybe she will figure out something is wrong.

Can she find me? This feels like a death wish.

My thoughts are filled with nervousness, the weak, tender ache in my heart that makes me feel like I'm going to crash myself down.

I feel a part of me trembling, the aching pain getting worse with each second, not knowing if I will ever escape this.

The driver pulls over and Rian, the bald guy with the forehead tattoo, rushes down

As I watch the other cars pull behind ours, Rian opens the door for me.

I look at him dumbfounded, not sure what I am expected to do. But without a word, Rian steps forward like to grab my hand but…

“If I were you, I wouldn't try that.” Luciano warms.

His voice comes out like a dark whisper of the grim reaper.

Rian steps back, bringing his fisted palm to his chest like to offer his peace and defeat in front of his boss.

“What…” my voice trails off as I turn towards Luciano.

“Get down, little one.” He instructs me, as his eyes are strange at Rian.

And without a word, I comply.

The last thing I want is to anger him. I am not sure who Luciano Vitale is. Or mainly, I'm not aware of the man he is.

He looks like a devil and holds the control of one

And I might be dumb, but I'm not the one who will scathe myself out of my foolishness to try to pick against the monster next to me.

Luciano gets down and walks towards my side.

Placing his hand on my small back, he ushers me to walk.

The touch of his warm, calloused big hand is frightening on my already trembling body, but I don't make it very obvious, so I hold myself tight, trying to ignore his touch as I walk.

It's a salon, but it's empty. However, the place screams luxurious.

I noticed two ladies waiting at the door like they were already expecting us.

“Good day, Mr. Vitale. We were waiting for you.” One of the two ladies steps in, putting up a trembled smile on her face.

And seeing the fear in those eyes, I ease myself, knowing I'm not the one.

“You have two hours.” Luciano states in his dark voice that burns the dark holes in me as he looks at his watch before stepping aside.

I don't understand what it means.

Two hours?

But for what?

I don't get to ask all these questions because by the time I'm able to even get a word out of my mouth, the two ladies step forward and hold me by my elbow as they usher me inside.

When they pull a curtain inside, I sigh, knowing I'm at least far from the monster's eyes.

It's a small relief that reduces the itch on my skin.

But his touch is still burning on my skin.

“Do… You know him?” I ask one of them through my shaking voice, I try to keep my voice low, not wanting to gain any attention while I am being sneaky.

But even though they hear me, they choose to ignore my question.

Putting an apron over me, they set me up in a high chair.

Before I know it, they are grabbing my feet, getting me ready for a pedicure, manicure.

“What's… Happening?” I ask them, trying to make sense of the situation.

Luciano didn't seem like a man who would wait for two hours just to get myself ready.

I don't understand anything, but I don't fight. The girls are already shaking, my defiance will be only hard on each of us.

So, I remain quiet.

I notice the way they cleanse my face and put on a soothing pack after plucking my eyebrows.

While I look at my mirror reflection, they trim my long hair, cutting out the damaged ends of my hair.

I zone out for a second, watching myself sit like a puppet. And when they section my hair to dye it. I freeze.

“I don–t want… To dye my hair.” I stammer my words as I feel my voice crack.

But again they don't listen to me.

And I don't fight.

I sit quietly.

The next hour goes by dying my hair into dark honey brown and straightening it.

Then they will strip me off, but I'm thankful when they give me a tone to cover myself as they wax my entire body.

I feel like a mannequin, worse than ever. I feel a part of me looking back at myself and wondering how weak can I be that I'm sitting like this body ain't mine?

Maybe this is what all the girls do? I try to soothe myself.

But I lose it when they pull out a white sheath dress from the cover and bring it up to me.

“That's not mine.” I grimace as I tighten the clutch on the robe, knowing I'm left naked within.

“Mr Vitale expects you to wear this.” One answers, looking at me with slight annoyance.

“Why don't you talk to the boss itself? We are just doing our job.” The other comments, her voice holding up the tension.

And instead of letting them put the dress on me, I do it myself.

When I'm done, they bring out a pair of heels.

I put them on, even though I'm bad at walking in heels. I'm always falling and hurting with them on.

But for now, I comply.

When everything is done, the ladies smile, and they look relieved as they guide me out.

“Mr. Vitale, I hope we haven't disappointed you.

We have tried our best to match your preferences.” One of them comments, beaming a smile on their face as they point at me.

And it's clear

I'm definitely a mannequin they have polished and neatened to his preference.

Hearing his name being taken, Luciano breaks his eyes from his phone as he lifts his gaze in our direction, a cigarette burning in between his lips.

When he locks his eyes with mine, something shifts. It's so evident in his eyes, the intense burn unlike anything, the way he takes a sharp breath..

It's hatred

Pure rage.

The loathing in his eyes is evident, but I'm not sure if it's for me or the person they have turned me into.

But who have they turned me into?