Blood and Billions: A Mafia Tale

Chapter Four

I stared at myself in the mirror, different women buzzed around me, each tending to the preparations for the upcoming wedding. The room was a whirlwind of activity, but my reflection betrayed none of the chaos around me. My green eyes, which had once sparkled like emeralds, now stared back at me with emptiness. They held no traces of the girl I had once been.

Unable to bear the sight any longer, I closed my eyes, seeking solace in the darkness. My mind wandered back to how I had arrived at this moment, the terror of a gun pointed at me still fresh in my memory.

I steeled myself, ready to face whatever fate had in store. The seconds dragged on, but the gunshot never came. I had cautiously opened my eyes to find Nicholas still standing there, his calculating gaze never leaving mine.

"You really want to die," he observed, his voice tinged with a curious mixture of doubt and intrigue.

"I do not want to be a part of this," I replied.

Nicholas stepped away from me, and I was left feeling strangely abandoned. His next question was unexpected. "Tell me the one thing you want the most in the world, Isabella, and I will give it to you if you do this."

I had been momentarily taken aback by the offer. The question hung in the air, and I found myself grappling with the depth of my desire. The one thing I wanted was so simple—my mother. To be reunited with the woman who had loved me unconditionally, even in her darkest hours. But the truth was harsh and unyielding; no one could ever grant me that wish.

With a heavy heart, I answered, my voice barely more than a whisper, "I want to go to school, to college. I want to be a designer."

Nicholas regarded me for a moment, his piercing gaze seeming to weigh my request.

"I can make that happen," he assured me, his voice resonating with confidence.

I knew he could. He was a man who could buy a country over and over with the money he had. The prospect of escaping the life I had known, filled with turmoil and despair, had a seductive allure. The chance to pursue my dreams was a tempting offer.

"But," I continued, casting a glance at the lifeless woman who lay nearby, her presence a constant reminder of the masquerade I was expected to perform, "how will people ever believe that I am her?"

"She was sent away when she was five years old and passed from one school to another," he started, his voice laced with a matter-of-factness. "No holiday visitations or whatsoever. No one knows how exactly she grew up to be. There are a few pictures here and there, but they will be taken care of. You already have her features, all you need to do is play the part. And another factor in my favor, Lorenzo Moretti has a slight problem with his vision."

I couldn't help but feel a wave of irritation rise within me. Everything about this situation seemed too convenient, too meticulously orchestrated. My muttered words of discontent didn't escape Nicholas's notice, and he responded with a smile. "Anything else you'd like to let out?"

My gaze averted, landing on anything in the room but him. I hated how skillfully he could manipulate my emotions, how effortlessly he could make me squirm in discomfort. "If you've been rivals with her father," I questioned, my voice steady despite the storm of confusion inside me, "why is it so important that this rivalry ends, and why is she with you?"

Nicholas sighed, his tone carrying a trace of impatience. "I was tasked with bringing her back into the country as my first show of goodwill. She was supposed to stay with me, and I would present her to her father just before the wedding. As to why I'm doing this, in my world, as you will come to learn, it is better to have alliances than rivals. I am a powerful man, Isabella, but there is only so far power can take you," he concluded.

"Why don't you just tell her father the truth? That she killed herself," I suggested, unable to conceal the innocence of my question.

Nicholas's reaction was swift, and he almost seemed to scoff at my naivety. "How naive you are," he tsked, the disappointment in his tone almost mocking. "I have had someone prepare you a room. Get some sleep. Tomorrow you will learn what it means to be the daughter of Lorenzo Moretti."

With those final words, he turned away from me, and I couldn't help but feel the weight of the impending journey into the unknown. I gazed down at Natalia's lifeless form, her green eyes seeming to judge me even in death. It was as if she, too, questioned my role in this sinister plot.

The image of those judgmental green eyes lingered as I returned to the present. My own green eyes reflected the same sense of judgment and uncertainty.

"Ma'am?" a voice pulled me from the unsettling scene, and I quickly turned my attention to the woman at my side.

I forced a fake smile, masking the turmoil within. "What is it?" I asked, my voice strained.

She bowed her head respectfully and relayed the message, "Mr. Maddox requests your presence in his study."

I nodded, acknowledging her words. "Okay, thank you." With one final glance in the mirror, I took a deep breath. A sad smile touched my lips; I wasn't Isabella Mendez anymore. I had entered a world of intrigue and danger, and the facade I had to maintain was a far cry from the life I once knew.

I followed the woman to Nicholas Maddox's study, my heart pounding with a mixture of anticipation and fear.

His back was turned to me as I entered, and for a moment, I hesitated in the doorway.

When he finally turned around, our eyes locked, and in that moment, I finally saw it and it wasn’t fleeting anymore— the desire in his gaze. He drawled my name, "Isabella."

Every instinct in me screamed to run from this man, to escape the pull of his dark world that promised to consume me. I knew that Nicholas Maddox had the power to ruin me, and once I crossed that threshold, there would be no turning back.

As Nicholas walked towards me, I could almost hear my heart pounding in my chest. He stopped right in front of me, his presence overwhelming. In a low, seductive voice, he whispered in my ear, "You look beautiful, Bella." His breath on my skin making me speechless.

He pulled away, leaving me breathless then transformed to the Nicholas I feared had transformed, assuming a commanding demeanor. "Lorenzo Moretti will be here soon," he stated with a stern expression. "Remember everything and play your part. Do you understand?"

I gulped and nodded, my heart racing as the weight of the situation bore down on me.

Nicholas pulled me away from the door and closer to him, the touch of his skin against mine sending a surge of electricity through me. My heart skipped a beat when our eyes locked, and I knew there was no escape from the magnetic pull he had on me.

As Lorenzo Moretti entered the room, my eyes fixed on his features. He was a tall man with salt-and-pepper hair, and a faint crinkle formed at the corners of his eyes as he laughed, giving him an air of warmth.

Nicholas stepped forward to greet him, saying, "Lorenzo Moretti."

Moretti nodded in acknowledgment and immediately inquired, "Where is my daughter?"

Nicholas moved aside, allowing Moretti's gaze to fall upon me. His eyes, which had held warmth a moment ago, now narrowed with suspicion. "You are not my daughter.”