sophisticated

"I love you." She blurted out, eyes wide, filled with unshed tears as they both stared at each other. "I love you and I know you know that so please don't say what happened was a mistake or that you're leaving me." Her cracked at the last statement. "Don't destroy us." She moved closer to him, putting a gentle hand on his arm. He lifted his gaze to hers and she feared whatever it is he was going to say the way his eyes looked. They've never looked so....empty. "Darling, there is nothing to destroy if there was nothing to ever break. There was never an us Idalia." He stated venom lacing his words. "What?" Her voice cracked "Whatever happened between us was a mistake. I regret it." Her face crumpled as her hand dropped from his arm, putting space between them. "Don't say that." "Just leave Idalia." He turned his back to awards her and continued stuffing clothes into his bag. After some time, "Okay." She nodded her head in understanding, wiping her tears, trying to stop the already flowing tears. Glancing at him one more time, she walked out of his room. When Idalia Bianchi confesses her love to Ivan Volklov, her best friend and the heir to the Italian mafia, he does not reciprocate the feeling. Years after walking out of the room of the one she loves, he is back in her life. Her brother's best friend. It’s finally time for her to find a husband and according to her family tradition it has to be an arranged marriage and what better and safer match for her than a member of the Italian mafia. Even though there is already an alliance between the families, a marriage makes it more "sophisticated", like her father says.

I married Rafe Maretti—the man who owned the Maretti Casino empire. Sophisticated, ruthless, but sinfully charming. By year three of our marriage, I introduced my little sister to his nephew, Adam Moretti—twenty-five, all sharp smiles and sharper ambition. He ran the dirtier side of the family’s business—arms, drugs, the kind of trade that dripped blood and money in equal parts. I married the powerful, irresistible uncle. She married the young, dangerous nephew. It was supposed to be our fairytale. Then one day, I got kidnapped in Rafe’s casino. Snatched by a rival mafia family desperate to force Rafe to sign over one of his biggest, most profitable casinos. Except Rafe didn’t answer the phone or even notice I was gone. The kidnappers grew impatient. First, it was slaps. Then punches. Then they shattered my leg and buried a knife in my stomach. Still no word from my husband. Until finally, after what felt like a hundred unanswered calls, a single message came through. "I’m with Bianca. She’s having a stomach. Stop calling." Once the kidnappers realized I had no value, they dumped me in a rotting warehouse like discarded luggage. It was Isla, my sister, who found me. She got me out. And then the brakes failed. The car spun out. Isla went unconscious beside me. I tried calling Adam. Isla’s husband. But as soon the call went through, all I could hear was. “Leave me along. Isla, I am in the middle of something here.” When I clearly heard a woman’s voice in the back. If not for a passing stranger, Isla and me wouldn’t have made it to the hospital, let along have survived. So when I opened my eyes again, the first thing I thought was: I’m divorcing that sorry bastard. The Maretti can go to hell.