S*X Contract With Invalid Mafia Boss

Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Christine’s POV

If I had known what the day had in store for me, maybe I would have just stayed in bed and refused to wake up at all.

Yesterday had been—dare I say—good. Sofia and I had reconciled, and for once, the suffocating walls of this gilded prison didn’t feel as unbearable. I’d let myself believe, foolishly, that today could be better.

But dreams have a funny way of foreshadowing reality.

I dreamt that Luca had thrown me out—out into the dark, cold streets where no one knew my name or cared that I existed. His voice echoed in my ears, filled with disdain and finality, as he told me I was nothing to him. When I woke up, my chest felt tight, my body tangled in sweat-soaked sheets. The relief of waking quickly faded when Sofia delivered the news I hadn’t wanted to hear.

“Luca left instructions that he won’t be coming back for the next five days.”

The words rang in my ears, sharper than I cared to admit. My heart sank in confusion. I didn’t like him—not in the way a sane person would like someone—but something inside me had still been waiting for him, anticipating the sound of his car pulling up, his heavy footsteps, and his unreadable expression when he came home.

He wasn’t coming home.

Not today. Not tomorrow.

I threw myself out of bed in a foul mood and began getting ready for class. At least that would be a distraction. But, no—life wasn’t done toying with me yet.

One notification.

Class canceled.

The day stretched endlessly before me, the silence around the house mocking me, amplifying the loud thrum of my thoughts. I tried watching movies, scrolling through my phone—anything to drown it out—but nothing helped. My thumb hovered over the search bar before I knew it.

Luca Moretti.

What did I think I would find? A secret confession? The real man behind the mask? I wasn’t that naive.

But still, I searched.

A few hotel mentions, some boring CEO profiles. Nothing about his mafia dealings, his underworld life—the side of him I knew existed. It frustrated me to no end. How could someone so ruthless, so powerful, hide in plain sight like that?

I don’t know how long I sat there scrolling—minutes? Hours?—but I barely noticed Sofia enter my room. She carried a tray of food, humming softly like she always did.

“It’s noon, Christine. You need to eat something,” she said kindly.

“Do you know how to knock?” I snapped, my voice sharper than I’d intended.

Sofia froze in shock, her smile faltering. “I’m sorry—I thought you might be hungry. I—”

I sat up too quickly, blinded by my irritation, and my hand smacked the edge of the tray. Before I could process what happened, the mug of coffee tipped, spilling its scalding contents over my hand.

The pain was immediate, a fiery sting that shot up my arm. “What the f*** is wrong with you?!” I shouted, my voice echoing through the room.

Sofia flinched, her eyes wide as she scrambled to grab tissues. “Oh my God—I’m so sorry! Let me—”

“Don’t bother,” I cut her off, ignoring the pain throbbing in my palm. “Just clean up the mess you made before I come back.”

I didn’t wait for her response. I climbed out of bed, stomping past her. I didn’t care where I was going—I just needed to get out. My chest felt tight, like the walls were caving in on me, and my own skin itched with the need to escape.

My feet carried me to the living room, my anger bubbling under the surface like a simmering storm. I wasn’t paying attention until I collided with something—or rather, someone.

A solid chest.

For half a second, my heart leapt, hope flooding my veins. Luca.

But when I looked up, that brief flicker of joy died instantly.

It wasn’t him. It was Mario.

My face fell, the disappointment cutting deeper than I wanted to admit. I grunted, hardening my expression as I stepped around him.

“Christine?” Mario’s deep voice followed me.

“What are you still doing here?” I muttered, my voice dripping with irritation. “Shouldn’t you be off babysitting your jerk of a boss?”

Mario frowned, clearly noting the shift in my tone, but he answered calmly. “I was about to leave. I just heard noise upstairs and—” He paused. “Luca’s busy. He’s handling his… marriage preparations.”

I stopped cold.

My heart froze mid-beat, the blood in my veins turning to ice.

“Marriage?” The word tasted bitter on my tongue. “Preparations?”

Mario’s jaw tensed, his face betraying his slip. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

“No. Say it again,” I demanded, my voice cracking despite my best efforts to sound strong. “Luca is getting married?”

“It’s not my place—”

“Don’t lie to me!” I stepped closer, grabbing his arm before he could turn away. “Tell me you’re joking. Tell me he’s not getting married.” My voice broke, the sound of my own desperation shocking me.

Mario hesitated, his discomfort clear. “Christine, I need to run an errand for the boss. I shouldn’t even be here.”

I held on tighter, defiance burning in my chest. “You’re not leaving until you tell me the truth. All of it.”

For a moment, Mario looked at me—really looked at me—like he could see every crack in the armor I tried to wear. “It’s complicated.”

“Complicated?” I scoffed, blinking back tears. “You mean to tell me that the man who’s kept me locked in here for weeks—the man who turned my life upside down—is out there planning a wedding?”

“Christine—”

“No!” My voice shook as anger mixed with something else—something more painful. Betrayal. How could he?

“Christine, let go.” Mario’s voice was firm now, but I ignored him.

“Why? Why didn’t he tell me?” I choked out, my grip faltering. “Am I nothing? Just some… some prisoner he can toss aside whenever he feels like it?”

Mario’s face softened, but he didn’t answer. He couldn’t answer.

The silence was louder than any confession.

I let go of his arm, my chest heaving as I stumbled back. My hands clenched into fists at my sides, trembling with the weight of emotions I couldn’t name. Anger. Pain. Confusion.

He’s getting married.

Those words circled in my mind like a cruel mantra, each repetition cutting deeper than the last.

I turned away from Mario before he could say anything else, my vision blurring with tears I refused to let fall.

I didn’t need anyone to tell me twice.

Luca Moretti could go to hell.