The Mafia's Arranged Bride

Prologue

Gianna Ammassari

The evening felt like a dream—perfect, almost surreal. As I stepped out of the sleek black car, I caught my reflection in the glass doors and blushed at the sight. My emerald green Valentino dress hugged me in all the right places, making me feel like I belonged beside Nico Baldocchi—the leader of one of Sicily’s most powerful mafia families and soon to be my husband.

Nico stepped out behind me, and the sight of him stole my breath. He was dressed in a sharp black suit that fit him perfectly, accentuating his tall, broad frame. Every inch of him made him look more like the powerful man he was, a man who controlled one of the most feared mafia families in Italy.

But it was his eyes that captivated me the most. Dark, intense, and always so unreadable. They were the kind of eyes that drew you in but kept you at a distance. Even now, as he offered me his arm, there was a cool detachment in his gaze.

“Gianna,” he said, holding out his hand, his voice smooth and commanding, sending a shiver down my spine.

I took his arm, my fingers lightly brushing against his as we walked inside the chic restaurant. We were seated at a secluded table with a breathtaking view of the city below. This was our official first date since both our families decided that I was to marry him, an arrangement to bring together the two of the strongest mafia families to ever exist.

The flickering candlelight cast a warm glow on Nico’s face, making him look even more handsome, if that was possible. For a moment, I just stared at him, soaking in every detail—the sharp lines of his jaw, the way his lips curved ever so slightly when he was deep in thought, the way his fingers absentmindedly traced the rim of his glass.

“This is perfect, Nico,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

He looked at me then, really looked at me, and for a fleeting moment, I thought I saw something in his eyes—something softer, something almost like regret. But then it was gone, replaced by that same stoic mask he always wore.

“Gianna,” he began, and there was a weight to his words, a heaviness that made my heart skip a beat. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

My smile faltered. “What is it?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

Nico set down his glass and leaned forward slightly, his gaze piercing through me. “I will give you everything a wife deserves—protection, loyalty, power. But I...I will never be able to love you.” For a moment, I couldn’t breathe. His words hung in the air like a dark cloud, suffocating me.

“What?” I managed to croak out, my voice barely audible. He didn’t flinch.

“I’m in love with someone else, Gianna.”

It felt like the ground had been pulled out from under me. I gripped the edge of the table, trying to steady myself as the room spun around me. My heart shattered into a million pieces.

“Who?” The question slipped out before I could stop it, my voice trembling. I hated how small I sounded, how broken.

“It doesn’t matter,” Nico said, his voice cold and distant. “What matters is that you understand where we stand. This marriage is a business arrangement, nothing more.”

Business arrangement. The words were like a knife to the heart. I had always known that our marriage was meant to unite our families, to strengthen our power. But I had hoped, prayed even, that there would be more to it—that maybe, just maybe, Nico actually liked me somewhat.

But those hopes were gone now, shattered by his brutal honesty.

I swallowed the lump in my throat, forcing myself to meet his gaze. “And you’re asking if I still want to marry you?” My voice was surprisingly steady, despite the storm raging inside me.

Nico nodded. “Yes.”

My throat tightened with the effort of holding back the tears that threatened. I had loved Nico for as long as I could remember, and now, just when I thought I was finally getting my fairytale, it was being ripped away from me. But love was a luxury in the world I came from. I had duties and obligations and no matter how much it hurt, I would fulfill them.

Nico reached into his pocket, revealing a small velvet box holding a stunning diamond ring. Then, to my surprise, he stood and moved around the table, lowering himself onto one knee. My breath caught in my throat as he looked up at me, the ring gleaming between his fingers.

“Gianna Ammassari,” he said, his voice steady and emotionless, “Will you marry me?”

Tears blurred my vision. This was the moment that could change everything. The truth was laid bare in front of my eyes to see, and I could easily make the right choice and free myself from an eternity of hell.

Yet I didn't. I couldn't.

“Yes, Nico,” I whispered, my voice catching in my throat. “I’ll marry you.”

He slid the ring onto my finger, and for a brief moment, our eyes met. I searched for something—anything—that would show he felt more than just duty. But there was nothing. He rose to his feet, and as he did, I realized that my heart was shattering, piece by piece.

“Thank you, Gianna,” he said quietly.

But there was no warmth in his voice, no affection. Just the cold, hard truth that our marriage would be nothing more than a contract. I forced a smile, even as my heart broke all over again. I would be Mrs. Nico Baldocchi, the wife of one of the most powerful mafia bosses, but I would never have his love.

And yet, as I looked into his eyes, I realized I would do it all the same. Because even if I could never have his heart…

I would still always love him…