Desired by the Mafia Kings

L A N A

I always thought my engagement party would be the best night of my life. Maybe not the full glass-slipper thing, but at least something that feels special. Magical. You know? One of those nights where everything was in place, enough to feel perfect. I already imagined the champagne, the laughter from all the guests, and the dress I would wear, one I had thought of months ago and made sure my tailor would be capable enough to bring to life. 

But, instead... I get Diane. My stepmother.

"Darling, did no one tell you roses are overdone?" Her voice is soft, but I feel every word sink in. She knows exactly what she's doing. 

I look over at her, finding her standing by the fireplace with a glass of red wine in her hand, swirling it around like she's judging it, just like she would everyone and everything else around her. Her hair is dark brown with a few remnants of grey that she's tried to hide with dye, and her eyes are dark brown with slight bags under her eyes, dressed in a navy silk gown that probably costs more than the venue rental.

"They scream desperation. I would've gone with lilies. But..." she shrugs, "maybe that's just me." 

I force a smile as I look back at her, knowing better than to argue with my stepmother in front of all our guests. And so I smile like a well-trained pageant queen and say: "I wanted roses, and I think they're lovely." I answer, with a tinge of irritation in my voice.

It's enough to shut her up for a second at least, just as she takes another sip, then scans the room as if everyone else in this room is simply beneath her. Diane's been in my life since I was sixteen, when my dad got remarried. Mom died only four years before that from a tragic road accident, and eventually Dad passed as well from illness... leaving me in Diane's care until I became an adult. 

At first, she pretended to care about me. She was the only family I had, especially after the rest of my mom's relatives chose not to associate with me after my dad got remarried, and my dad never really had anyone he could trust except for a brother who was overseas.

The only reason she stuck around was that Dad left everything to her. All this wealth and fortune, to which she, of course, blew in the span of just a few months with extravagant shopping sprees and vacations.

That meant I had to do everything for myself and work hard for what I have today. Of course... things definitely got easier when I met my fiancé, Tyler...

He had power and influence, worked in finance, made six figures and made my life very comfortable. So, of course, he was someone Diane would approve of.

I continue staring back at her as she stands across from me, glass in hand, playing supportive... playing mother. But I know she can never replace my mom, and so I tune her out and glance around the room.

The party is in full swing now. My vision for my engagement party somehow came to life. Soft lights glow from the chandeliers above us as jazz floats through the speakers, and people are mingling like a scene from a wedding magazine. I hear someone laugh too loudly, someone else clinking a glass. It's lovely, and it's everything I ever wanted...

I'm dressed in a soft cream dress, one that accentuates each and every curve on my body. I'd consider myself fit, but also on the more curvaceous side, having taken my workout and pilates classes a lot more seriously this year. My hair is dark, almost pitch black and falls just under my jaw in a bouncy, wavy bob, and my skin is slightly tanned.

"Lana!" I hear a voice call and instantly recognise it as the voice of my best friend, Elizabeth. I turn in her direction and watch as she struts over to me excitedly, her arms wide with a grin plastered on her red lips. She's wearing a red dress that hugs her body like it was sewn on, and her light blonde hair is done in loose waves. She always knows how to make an entrance.

"There you are," I say, feeling myself relax as I approach her, opening my arms and hugging her as soon as she reaches me. "Look at you. You look incredible." I say to her as I step back and eye her from head to toe.

"Please," she grins. "You look like a bridal goddess. I'm just here to orbit your glow." She says with excitement as she glances around the room before spotting a server holding onto a tray of drinks. 

She then slyly grabs a glass of champagne off the tray as he walks by and downs half of it in one gulp, making me raise a brow at her.

"Whoa, someone's nervous." I let out as I stare back at her. Liz is always pretty bubbly, but I wonder what seems to have her spirits up. It's like she seems more excited about my engagement than I am.

"Pfft. What do I have to be nervous about? This is your show babe." She smiles, but there's something tight behind it. Something is… off.

I brush it aside. She's probably just overwhelmed. Everyone is. And so I try my best not to pay it any mind.

Elizabeth has been my ride-or-die since freshman year. We've done everything together: bad breakups, worse hangovers, nights crying over textbooks and nights getting blackout drunk to celebrate literally nothing. She's the one who told me to give Tyler a chance; said a guy like that doesn't come around twice. She's even the one who helped me pick out this dress, said Tyler wouldn't even be able to keep his hands off me.

And yet, tonight, her energy is weird. She keeps looking over her shoulder, checking her phone, tapping her fingers against the stem of her glass... And I can't figure out why.

"You sure you're okay?" I then ask, my expression slowly shifting into a more worried one.

"Totally, just a little buzzed. This whole night feels kind of surreal, right?" She chuckles lightly, but I know Elizabeth. She doesn't get nervous easily, but tonight she is...

"Yeah," I say. "Surreal's a good word for it."

She leans in. "You should go find Tyler. Isn't the groom-to-be supposed to be glued to your side?" She laughs again.

"He was just here. I think he stepped out to talk to someone."

Elizabeth squeezes my hand, but her eyes glance over my shoulder, past me, and I know why even before I turn around.

Tyler.

His light blue eyes meet mine, his soft brown hair effortlessly falling on his forehead. Butterflies fill my stomach as he makes his way over to me, and everything else seems to stop. Nothing else matters but him. He walks toward us, fresh drink in hand, smiling that smile that makes my stomach flutter even now. His suit fits him perfectly, made just for tonight, and his hair is still perfectly in place even after a few hours of party chaos. He moves confidently, leaving me wondering how I managed to pull a guy like him.

"There's my fiancée," he says as he approaches me, soon sliding an arm around my waist and kissing my cheek as soon as he reaches me.

"Hey..." I mumble shyly, feeling butterflies in my stomach as I look up at him. 

"You holding up okay?" he then asks, his tone thoughtful as he stares back at me.

"Of course. You?" I answer him, feeling myself loosen up as soon as he holds me.

"Getting there," he says, and turns to Elizabeth. "You look incredible, Liz."

It's a casual compliment, but it makes my heart drop sharply. I turn to Elizabeth, and watch her eyes light up like he just proposed to her.

She laughs, tossing her hair back. "You're not so bad yourself, future husband of my best friend."

But how she says it doesn't sound teasing. It sounds like something layered, like she's reminding herself. Or maybe warning me...

Tyler chuckles and raises his glass. "You two are the most dangerous pair in this room."

I watch them, his easy charm, her too-bright smile, and unease immediately pinches in my chest...

Elizabeth has always liked Tyler; that's never been a secret. She was the one who convinced me to go on a second date when I almost ghosted him.

I used to think it was just appreciation, a harmless one. Just a best friend hyping up my guy.

But tonight… she's looking at him too long, laughing a little too hard. And he's not exactly pulling away.

Still, I push the feeling down. I don't want to be that girl; jealous, insecure, imagining things where there's nothing.

Tyler kisses my temple and whispers, "Be right back," before slipping off again, muttering something about checking with the DJ.

Elizabeth watches him go, her smile lingering a little too long just before she turns to me. "You really are the luckiest woman alive."

I don't know how to respond to her, and so I instead force another smile, glancing down at the floor as I try to ignore what just happened to me...

. . . .

It's evening already, and the air is filled with the scent of roses, perfume, cologne and major anxiety, mostly from me. Simply because, despite how lovely this all is... Tyler is missing, again.

Initially, I dismissed it, assuming he was caught up in conversations or attending to last-minute details. But as minutes turned into an hour, unease settled deep within me. I need to find him.

Passing by the staircase, I nod absent-mindedly to guests who offer congratulations, their faces a blur. My mind races with possibilities, each more unsettling than the last. Is he unwell? Did something urgent come up? Or is there another reason for his disappearance?

I decide to check the more secluded areas of the mansion. The study is empty, save for the faint aroma of cigars and brandy. The library, usually a refuge, offers no solace tonight. As I approach the guest rooms, a muffled sound catches my attention. It's a soft giggle, followed by a hushed whisper...

My heart pounds in my chest, each beat echoing in my ears, and I follow the sound to a door slightly ajar, causing warm light to spill into the dim hallway. And with a trembling hand, I push it open...