The Mafia Kings Substitute Bride

The night air was thick with tension, carrying the low hum of a distant storm as Bella stood at the edge of her uncle's estate, staring out at the imposing limousine waiting at the gate. The evening breeze tugged at her dress, a satin gown that clung to her like a suffocating second skin, its deep blue shimmering in the dim light. She shifted uneasily, her hands clenching the small, delicate bouquet her aunt had thrust into her hands. This wasn't supposed to be her wedding day. Yet here she was, preparing to meet the man who was feared more than death itself.

Bella's pulse quickened as she thought about Dante Romano-the man her cousin, Vanessa, had been so eager to escape from. She remembered the whispers of his cruelty, the stories that painted him as a ruthless mafia boss with no heart and no mercy. Vanessa had sobbed, panicked, and desperate, pleading with their uncle to find a way out. But the family's reputation, and the business deal that came with it, was far too important.

That's where Bella came in-an unwitting replacement, forced into the role of a bride by deception. Her cousin had run off that very afternoon, leaving behind nothing but a cryptic note and a trail of expensive perfume. And just like that, Bella's life had been signed away with a flourish of ink and a cruel twist of fate.

Her uncle's voice jolted her from her thoughts. "Bella," he said, his tone as sharp as the glint in his eye. He wasn't a kind man, never had been, and she had learned to fear the coldness in his voice. "Get in the car. They're waiting."

Bella's throat tightened as she glanced back toward the mansion, where her aunt watched silently from the window, expression blank. No one would stand up for her. No one would fight this for her. She was on her own.

With a deep breath, Bella forced her feet to move, each step heavy as she approached the limo. The driver, a tall man with dark eyes and a grim expression, opened the door for her. She hesitated for a moment, looking back at the estate one last time, knowing she might never return.

The leather seat was cool against her bare skin as she slid inside, the door closing with a soft click. The interior of the limousine was luxurious, every surface gleaming with wealth, but the opulence only deepened the pit in her stomach. She was being delivered like some sort of package, a bride in name only, to a man who had never wanted her.

The silence stretched, broken only by the quiet hum of the engine as they pulled away from the estate. Bella's fingers tightened around the bouquet, her thoughts racing. What would Dante think when he saw her? Would he be angry, knowing that his bride was not the one he had agreed to marry? Or would he not care at all, as long as the deal between their families was honored?

The drive seemed endless, the darkness outside the windows offering no comfort. Her heart pounded in her chest, the anxiety building with every passing second. She couldn't imagine what was waiting for her at the Romano mansion, but she knew enough about Dante to expect the worst.

It was nearly an hour before the limo slowed, the massive iron gates of the Romano estate looming in front of them. The mansion beyond was just as imposing as the stories had suggested-an architectural marvel of stone and glass, cold and unwelcoming. Bella's fingers trembled as she stepped out of the car, the heavy weight of dread settling deep in her bones.

She barely had a moment to collect herself before the doors swung open, revealing Dante Romano himself.

He stood in the doorway, tall and broad-shouldered, his dark hair slicked back. His eyes-ice-blue and piercing-locked onto hers with a cold intensity that made her breath hitch. He didn't move at first, his expression unreadable as he took her in. Bella couldn't tell if he was angry, disappointed, or merely indifferent.

Then, without a word, he turned and walked back inside.

Bella blinked, her heart hammering in her chest. Was that it? Was she supposed to just follow him inside like some obedient pet? She hesitated, glancing at the driver, who gave her a barely perceptible nod. Swallowing her fear, Bella stepped forward and crossed the threshold into the lion's den.

Inside, the mansion was every bit as grand as she'd imagined, the marble floors gleaming under the crystal chandeliers. The air was cool, almost too cold, and Bella felt a shiver run down her spine as she followed Dante through the hallways. He said nothing, his back rigid, his strides long and purposeful. She had to practically jog to keep up with him, her heels clicking against the floor in the silence.

Finally, they reached what appeared to be a study, the walls lined with dark wood bookshelves and a large desk dominating the center of the room. Dante moved behind the desk and sat down, his gaze never leaving her. He gestured to the chair in front of him.

"Sit."