Todos los capítulos de Contract Marriage to the Cold Hearted Mafia Boss : Capítulo 11 - Capítulo 20

Arianna The lobby was buzzing when Enzo and I stepped out of the elevator. Not with the usual background noise of a hotel, but with something heavier—guards at every corner, eyes scanning every movement. The kind of atmosphere that made even the air feel like it had to ask permission to move. My eyes immediately found my parents. Edoardo stood tall, his expression set in that fake charm he wore when there were people he wanted to impress. My mother was beside him, posture perfect, hair flawless, face like a porcelain statue—except for the moment her gaze flicked over me. That was when the porcelain cracked. The disapproval was sharp, blatant. It was the same look I had been getting since I was old enough to hold a hairbrush wrong. Today, it slid over my wet hair, my bare face, the pale pink dress that dipped just enough at the neckline to make my mother’s lips pinch tighter. I fought the urge to roll my eyes. If only I could tell her she didn’t have to worry, because Enzo hadn’

Arianna “I wish I could be as optimistic as you,” I said quietly, my voice breaking before I could stop it. “But I sincerely doubt it. Especially after what happened last night.” The moment the words slipped out, regret flooded me. Ilaria’s head tilted slightly, her expression sharpening with concern. “What do you mean?” she asked. “Did he force you into something?” Her tone rose, alarmed. “Because I won’t believe that. Enzo would never do that.” “No, no, of course not.” My hands shot up, palms open, as though to erase the thought. Relief softened Ilaria’s features. She exhaled, almost a sigh, then leaned back a little, studying me closely. “So what happened?” I hesitated. The words weighed heavy on my tongue. Ilaria was his friend—his family, really—and I was just the outsider who had been dropped into their world. What if she took his side? What if saying anything only made things worse? Ilaria must have noticed my inner battle, because her tone shifted, gentler, coax

Enzo I leave the house with a weight pressing on my chest. I told myself this marriage would be simple—a contract, a façade—but Arianna’s face when she saw Stella’s photograph won’t leave my mind. I’d expected annoyance, maybe even resentment. That I could live with. But sadness? Real sadness? That was something I didn’t prepare for. I shake my head, pushing the thought away. I can’t let myself think like that. She has to understand—this is a sham, and it will always be that way. That’s what keeps us both safe. The boundaries must stay sharp, unmovable. The truck pulls up to Antonio’s estate. As always, the gates open without a question, recognition enough of who I am and why I’m here. I would’ve preferred not to disturb them tonight—they’re probably still drained from the wedding and the flight—but the envelope in my hand carries information that can’t wait. I step out, straighten my jacket, and make my way toward the main entrance. Inside, the house smells like roasted bread and

Enzo I drove without a destination, letting the city lights blur past my windshield. It was still early, and the last thing I wanted was to go home. The thought of running into Arianna again, of watching her delicate face tighten in discomfort whenever I was near, was enough to keep me circling the streets. “This is shit,” I muttered under my breath, pressing the heel of my hand against my forehead. “I can’t even have peace in my own house anymore.” Her eyes had followed me all morning. Quiet, green, uncertain—but burning with something I couldn’t put into words. I should have ignored it. I should have treated her like she didn’t exist, the way I promised myself I would. But somehow, her presence clung to me like smoke I couldn’t escape. I needed a distraction. A clean break in my thoughts before I drowned in them. So, I turned my car toward one of the organization’s clubs—the one I knew best. It wasn’t where I wanted to be, but it was familiar, safe, and I knew exactly what I coul

Arianna I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror and, surprisingly, I didn't look so bad today. Sleep must’ve helped. Maybe it was exhaustion catching up with me after the wedding, the disastrous first night, and the long trip. Or perhaps it was from locking myself away the day before, spiraling through a thousand thoughts and crying until I couldn’t anymore. Either way, I had fallen asleep like a stone, and this morning, I felt lighter. Not perfect, but better. I unzipped my toiletry bag and started arranging my things on the counter: lip balm, face cream, perfume. But at the bottom of the bag sat a little pink box, mocking me. I pulled it out, weighing it in my hand. The pills. Birth control. Did I even need them anymore? Enzo had already made it clear he had no intention of touching me, so what was the point? At the beginning, it had felt like a risk just to take them. Everyone knew why we were supposed to marry—to have children. But I wasn't sure I wanted that yet, not wi