All Chapters of Contract Marriage to the Cold Hearted Mafia Boss : Chapter 1 - Chapter 6

Enzo's Pov I arrive at my brother's house and the gates open to welcome me. Antonio told me he had something urgent to discuss with me, and although I knew it had to do with the organization, there was something in his tone of voice that told me that he wanted to talk about a very sensitive and personal matter. I get out of my car, and the housekeeper opens the door for me, bowing in greeting. As I enter the first thing I hear are my nephew's screams playing in the yard, and a hint of a smile automatically spreads across my face. Since Serena’s death, those children are the only thing that manages to brighten my days a little. The housekeeper wants to accompany me but I ask her to leave me alone. I don't need company and she knows it; I know the place very well and I always prefer silence and solitude. I head out to the garden, and as expected, the first thing I see is Luca running around. His mother is sitting under a tree, cradling Sofia, our little princess and the newest add

Arianna “Sit still, tesoro. You keep wrinkling the dress.” I tried, really. But the satin stuck to my thighs, and my nerves made it impossible to stay still. I shifted again on the stool as my mother, Lucia, fussed with the bodice, muttering about my posture and how expensive the gown was. My sister, Bianca, lounged on the couch nearby, already sipping something fizzy out of a crystal flute. Her hair was pinned perfectly, her lips a deep red. Married at eighteen, bitter at twenty-one, and already looking like she couldn't take one moment of it anymore. “You’d think you were being crowned Queen of Italy, not just married off,” Bianca said dryly, crossing one leg over the other. I rolled my eyes, but Lucia glared sharply. “Don’t ruin this for her.” Bianca lifted her hands. “Fine. I’m silent. Just here for moral support.” I smoothed the front of my dress. It was beautiful—off-white with a subtle shimmer, the kind of thing I’d dreamed of once, when I was young enough to believe in

Arianna The church doors closed behind us with a heavy thud, sealing in the last echoes of the ceremony. I felt his fingers tighten slightly around mine as we walked down the front steps into the chaos waiting outside. Petals rained. Flashes burst from camera phones. Cheers and congratulations followed us like waves. He kept his eyes forward. His grip on my hand was steady, firm but impersonal. I tried to convince myself it meant something. Maybe he just doesn’t like public displays of affection. Maybe that’s why he didn’t kiss me on the lips. Maybe… things will be different when we’re alone. The car door was opened for us, and he let go of my hand without a glance. We slid into the back seat of the black sedan, the sound of the door slamming behind us cutting off the crowd. Silence fell instantly. He stared out the window. I stared at my hands in my lap. We sat like strangers. Which, technically, we were. The ride to the hotel took twenty minutes. The longest, most awkw