Chapter 13: She's The Man.

Dante’s POV

People filled the grand hall, whispers trailing like smoke through the air. This wasn’t just a marriage, it was a Mafia marriage. No flowers, no romantic promises, just deals, contracts, and inheritances written in blood. Every chandelier sparkled not with joy but with intimidation, and every smile hid daggers.

Then she entered. Betty.

She moved through the crowd on her father’s arm, her head high but her steps slow, almost dragging. Her gown wasn’t the innocent white of fairy tales....it was ice-silver, stitched with tiny shards of crystal that caught the light and made her shimmer like glass about to shatter. The neckline was bold, plunging, as though daring anyone to look too long. A high slit ran up her thigh, showing she was both a bride and a weapon. But her face… expressionless. Empty.

And for reasons I couldn’t admit even to myself, I wasn’t drawn to her. My chest felt hollow. My mind kept flashing back to that night with Bianca. The red gown, the ropes, her hand on me like fire. Her whisper. Her laughter. Her control. And worse, Betty had been there, in the shadows, hearing every sound, every moan.

The thought burned me.

But what burned more was that Bianca was nowhere in sight. My eyes searched the crowd...faces, capes, suits but no trace of her. Only Andreina, standing at a corner, her sharp gaze cutting through the chaos. She didn’t move, didn’t blink. Watching me. Watching everything.

Betty’s father stopped in front of me. He placed her hand in mine like a business transaction. Cold. Final. No joy. Her fingers felt stiff, like ice pressed against fire. I smiled faintly, trying to soften her expression, but she only curled her lips into a weak smirk, more threat than affection.

We faced forward as the Consigliere...the old man who officiated Mafia unions, opened the leather book of vows. His voice boomed across the hall, not with blessing but with laws. Rules that bound bloodlines. Chains that weren’t forged of gold but of power.

I waited for the words I’d been preparing for, the line that would crown me.

And then it came.

“…since Mordecai has no male heir, and as tradition dictates, the daughter shall inherit the reign. Her husband shall assist her, but the throne remains hers…”

My chest froze. What?

No. That wasn’t the deal. I was supposed to be heir. Me. The next power of Mordecai’s empire. My head spun as Betty smiled, smiled and raised her hand to silence the Consigliere.

She pulled her hand away from mine and circled me like a predator. Her gown swayed, the slit flashing her leg with every step.

“Surprised?” she taunted, her voice sharp enough to draw blood. “Did you think this city, or me, was foolish enough to hand everything to a cheat?”

The crowd erupted, gasps, whispers, shouts. I clenched my fists, forcing myself not to react.

Her hand gripped my shoulder from behind, her breath warm on my ear. “Look who’s playing your game now.”

Mordecai stood, face like thunder. “What is this nonsense?”

Betty spun, her voice loud and vicious. “This son of a bitch fucked my enemy the night before our wedding!”

The roar of the hall nearly shook the walls. All eyes fell on me.

I didn’t flinch. I looked directly at Mordecai. “She told me to go. She said Bianca wanted to see me. She poisoned my drink, made me drunk. It was her trick.”

“You liar!” Betty screamed, her voice cracking.

But inside, I smiled. Let her scream. She had no proof. I was Dante. I played the game better.

Mordecai waved his hand impatiently. “Enough! Will you continue this marriage or throw away a dynasty over childish jealousy?”

Betty faltered. Her eyes flickered. Her father’s words were heavy...Mafia men always saw women’s rage as “childish.” And in this world, daughters were expected to obey.

She swallowed. “I… I am sorry.”

But before she could finish, the heavy doors at the end of the hall groaned open.

And in she walked.

Bianca Horhetha Elfeavor.

The crowd silenced instantly.

She wasn’t just dressed. She was weaponized. Her gown was blood-red silk, slit high, low at the chest, hugging every dangerous curve. A black corset cinched her waist, leather straps crawling up her arms like snakes. Her lips painted the same fatal red, her newly darkened hair falling in waves. And those heels. I knew those heels. Every click echoed like a countdown to destruction.

She didn’t rush. She owned the hall with each step.

She stopped in front of me, her perfume hitting me like memory and fire. She leaned in, close enough for only me to hear, her lips brushing my ear.

“Time to play, baby.”

My pulse spiked.

She turned, smiling at Betty. “I hear you accused me of sleeping with your fiancé?”

Betty’s eyes widened. “You..”

But Bianca laughed. A low, sultry laugh that made my chest tight. “We never slept together. I made it up. Yes i spiked his drink and made it all up.. Oh yes! Woe to you, Betty...you bark but can't bite??I wanted to test you. To see if you were strong enough to keep your man but huh!you keep blabbing for a living.”

The hall roared again, this time in disbelief. I stared at Bianca, stunned. She had just saved me. Lied for me. But why? That was a big time lie, and how did she fucking knew I painted same lie?? She had no loyalty to me. None.

Betty’s lips trembled.

Bianca smiled sweetly. “Don’t give up your love, darling, over an affair that doesn’t exist.”

She turned as though to sit, but stopped at the Consigliere’s table. My chest went cold.

“Oops... I forgot something," From her clutch, she pulled out a folded paper. "Read this aloud,” she purred. “So Mr Dante Moretti can clear his past for his new lover.”

My stomach dropped.

The Consigliere opened it. My heart stopped.

The contract. The one I signed with Bianca. The one I destroyed. How the fuck did she...

His voice rang out, reciting my betrayal in every line. My plans to overthrow Mordecai. My schemes to take the city. Every secret laid bare, word by word.

The hall erupted in chaos. Mordecai’s knuckles went white around his chair. His rage was a storm.

“YOU!!!!!! ” Mordecai roared, rising, clapping and reaching for his gun.

But Bianca was faster. Her pistol flashed into her hand, pointed straight at his chest.

The hall froze.

I stared at her. Saving me? Or killing me? She was fire wrapped in silk. Unpredictable. Deadly.

Mordecai sneered. “If you want to live long enough to see grandchildren, girl, step aside.”

Bianca’s smile turned wicked. “You forget. I am Mafia too. And not just any Mafia. I’m the descendant of the villain you all fear.”

Gasps spread.

I clenched my fist as I whispered to her. "Bianca, surrender your weapon, you have no backup here."

"Bitch, Spot my back immediately and do not act like the coward you are right now." She whispered to me and hissed.

Bianca? puzzle? they go well together. Her confidence is way top-notch, but I had no weapon with me. Who holds a weapon on a lovers vow. She was alone. I walked to her back as she kept on pointing the gun to Mordecai, making sure she held me to her side as a shield.

"I see you love to play big man games." Mordecai roared as he curled his lips.

I stared at Bianca and there was no sign of fear in her, she smiled and returned back his words.

"I always love my things big, Daddy." The whole crown roared in amazement.

Immediately, Mordecai adjusted his trigger as Bianca grabbed Betty by the neck, dragging her back against her body, the gun now pressed to Betty’s temple.

"One move, and Imma fucking blow your sweet daughter’s brains across the marble." Bianca spat.

The crowd screamed. I couldn’t breathe.

She stood tall, red silk gleaming, eyes alight like flames.

At that moment, I realized something.

Bianca wasn’t just a woman.

She was the Mafia.

The She-Mafia.

And fuck… she made my blood burn.