Married Off To The Merciless Mafia King
Lucia, ever the snake, points toward the far end of the room, where a large potted fern obscures part of the seating area.
“Over there,” she says, a satisfied smirk tugging at her lips. “Looks like she’s enjoying herself.”
I follow her gaze and spot Ana, lounging on a plush couch, surrounded by three men. One leans in, whispering something in her ear that makes her toss her head back and laugh, carefree and radiant. Her hair has come loose, spilling over her shoulders, and for a moment, I’m frozen, watching her like a predator stalking his prey.
My fists clench at my sides, a cold rage building inside me.
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