All Chapters of A Marriage with the Mafia Prince: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

A L Y S S AI don't sleep that night. Not really, at least, maybe we're looking at a maximum of 3 hours. I tossed, turned, and spent the dark hours researching Valentino Enterprises, as much as the internet will give me. Which isn’t much.No job listings. No employee reviews. No company I*******m page bragging about its corporate culture. They’re private, way too private.But their name? Everywhere.Real estate, private investments, whispers of politics. And the family itself...? Vittorio and Luciana Valentino... names dropped in articles about wealth, philanthropy, influence. Their faces pop up beside politicians and celebrities, letting me know that the people I'm dealing with, must be extremely important.When the alarm buzzes at 7 AM, I’m already dressed and good to go.I pull on the best outfit I own: black slacks, a white blouse, and a blazer I bought secondhand. It doesn’t quite fit my shoulders, but it’s the closest thing I have to “professional.” My hair is dark, wavy and bobb

A L Y S S A“This is a gesture of faith,” Mr Valentino says, his voice smooth and assured, like he’s explaining an investment opportunity instead of handing me a sum of money that could alter the course of my life. “A retainer, if you will. Consider it a taste of what we’re offering. Spend it on your mother. Or don’t. It’s yours.”The envelope sits in my hands, closed now, but I can still feel what’s inside it. I can feel it like pressure against my palms, against my chest, against the part of me that still wants to believe I didn’t just agree to sell my future in exchange for survival. My pride is screaming, loud and frantic, telling me not to take it, telling me that once I do, there’s no pretending this was hypothetical, no pretending I still have one foot outside the door.But pride doesn’t keep hospital machines running. Pride doesn’t make pain go away. Pride doesn’t sit beside my mother’s bed at night and whisper that she can rest now, that everything will be okay.So I close the

A L Y S S AI have never stared at myself in a mirror this long, not even on mornings when exhaustion made its home on my face, or nights when I have cried hard enough to scare myself, because this time feels different... way different...The bathroom is small, barely wide enough to stretch my arms out, and the single yellow bulb above the mirror is enough to light up the room. As I stare at my reflection, I see every question I have not answered sitting plainly on my face, the tension in my jaw, the way my lips keep pressing together as if holding back words I am afraid to say out loud, the uncertainty in my eyes that refuses to settle, no matter how long I look.I am dressed better than I have been in years, not glamorous or expensive, the way women like Mrs Valentino carry themselves, but still decent and intentional in a quieter way. I wear a long black dress I forgot I owned until this afternoon, it's soft fabric that falls smoothly against my body without clinging too tightly an

A L Y S S AI stand there like a deer caught in the headlights as the word replays in my mind.Bride.The word feels foreign, almost absurd, yet attached to me in a room like this, standing in front of a man who looks at me like a problem to be solved rather than a person. I feel small under Stephano's gaze as he looks back at me. He does not react right away, nor does he blink or move or soften his gaze. He stares me up and down, his expression completely difficult to read, making it almost impossible for me to tell what exactly is going through his mind. Finally, he turns away from me and turns towards both his father and mother, his eyes bouncing between the two of them.And that's when we all hear it. The humourless, cold laugh he lets out, one that means the atmosphere in the room is completely heavy and unbearable.“This is a joke,” he says, motioning his hand towards me, immediately making my heart sink to my feet before suddenly racing. The expression on his parents' faces cha

A L Y S S A“If I were you, I would speak to me with more humility.”He lets out without raising his voice, or stepping into my space aggressively... The restraint he shows makes his warning feel more threatening, as if he assumes I will understand my place without him having to spell it out. He stands a few feet away from me in the centre of the room, his hands resting casually in his pockets and jacket falling perfectly along his frame. His posture is relaxed, leading me to believe he has never once doubted his authority in this house. The same authority I will soon have to answer to if I am to marry him.His head tilts slightly as he watches me, not in an angry way, not even particularly annoyed, just as if he's expecting something of me, or waiting for me to correct myself.For a moment, I consider doing exactly that. Apologising would be easy, right? All of this will be so easy if I followed through with everything he says... or else the opportunity to save my mother's life will