When A Mafia Heir Broke My Heart

When A Mafia Heir Broke My Heart

Gavin

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The custom-designed logo I created for Dante Mancini's new company, a gift for my twenty-second birthday and the supposed start of our life together, slipped from my fingers the moment I heard him tell his consigliere he was faking an engagement to get rid of me. It landed with a soft thud on the plush carpet outside the private room, the sound swallowed by the low thrum of music from the club. My world went silent.

Chapter 1 Chapter 1

The custom-designed logo I created for Dante Mancini's new company, a gift for my twenty-second birthday and the supposed start of our life together, slipped from my fingers the moment I heard him tell his consigliere he was faking an engagement to get rid of me.

It landed with a soft thud on the plush carpet outside the private room, the sound swallowed by the low thrum of music from the club. My world went silent.

Chapter 1

Seraphina POV:

I had loved Dante "The Shadow" Mancini since I was fifteen.

He was the heir to the Mancini crime family, and I was the daughter of his father's most trusted Capo, Leo Moretti. In our world, he was my Don, my destiny.

I saw it confirmed when I was sixteen, at a Mancini charity gala. A piece of scaffolding, heavy and lethal, broke loose above me. Dante moved like lightning, a blur of expensive wool and raw power.

He yanked me back, his grip like iron on my arm, just as the metal crashed where I had been standing.

He didn't say anything. He just looked down at me, his dark eyes assessing, before he tossed a silver coin into my trembling hands. It was stamped with the Mancini crest. A silent, possessive claim. My guardian. I kept that coin with me always, a sacred link to our shared future.

On my eighteenth birthday, filled with champagne and foolish courage, I confessed everything. I kissed him. He'd seemed more bored than anything else, a faint smirk playing on his lips. "When you're twenty-two and done with school," he'd said, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through me, "if you still have this... loyalty... maybe I'll consider tying our fates together."

A Don's command.

I took his careless words as a holy vow, a promise of an arranged marriage that would bind our families. I built my entire life around it. I went to Pratt Institute in New York, closer to the heart of his empire. For four years, I perfected my craft, waiting.

Tonight was my twenty-second birthday. The culmination of everything. I'd designed the perfect logo for his new legitimate front, a sleek, modern emblem that was both beautiful and intimidating. It was my soul on paper, a testament to my devotion. A gift to seal our family bond.

Now, standing outside his private room, I heard the truth.

"She's a nuisance, Vito," Dante's voice was laced with irritation. "This obsessive loyalty is a liability."

"So, what's the plan, Don?" Vito, his consigliere, asked.

"Isabella is ambitious. She'll play her part. We'll announce an engagement. A baby. That should be enough to scare the little Moretti girl away for good. She's too... pure for this. It's for her own good."

A woman laughed, a throaty, confident sound. Isabella Rossi. An outsider, a social climber. "Don't worry, Dante. I'll make it very convincing."

My breath caught in my throat, a painful, sharp thing. The logo, my offering, lay forgotten at my feet. The silver coin in my pocket suddenly felt cold as ice.

I turned and walked away. I didn't run. My movements felt disconnected, like I was watching someone else. I pushed through the heavy doors of the club and out into the New York rain. It was cold, and it soaked through my dress in seconds, but I didn't feel it.

My phone buzzed in my purse. Dante. Then my brother, Leo. I silenced it, shoving it deep into my bag.

He didn't want my loyalty. He wanted to cut me out. So I would. I would sever the tie myself.

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My world revolved around Jax Harding, my older brother's captivating rockstar friend. From sixteen, I adored him; at eighteen, I clung to his casual promise: "When you're 22, maybe I'll settle down." That offhand comment became my life's beacon, guiding every choice, meticulously planning my twenty-second birthday as our destiny. But on that pivotal day in a Lower East Side bar, clutching my gift, my dream exploded. I overheard Jax' s cold voice: "Can't believe Savvy's showing up. She' s still hung up on that stupid thing I said." Then the crushing plot: "We' re gonna tell Savvy I' m engaged to Chloe, maybe even hint she' s pregnant. That should scare her off." My gift, my future, slipped from my numb fingers. I fled into the cold New York rain, devastated by betrayal. Later, Jax introduced Chloe as his "fiancée" while his bandmates mocked my "adorable crush"-he did nothing. As an art installation fell, he saved Chloe, abandoning me to severe injury. In the hospital, he came for "damage control," then shockingly shoved me into a fountain, leaving me to bleed, calling me a "jealous psycho." How could the man I loved, who once saved me, become this cruel and publicly humiliate me? Why was my devotion seen as an annoyance to be brutally extinguished with lies and assault? Was I just a problem, my loyalty met with hatred? I would not be his victim. Injured and betrayed, I made an unshakeable vow: I was done. I blocked his number and everyone connected to him, severing ties. This was not an escape; this was my rebirth. Florence awaited, a new life on my terms, unburdened by broken promises.

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