A Bride For The Mafia King

BIANCA POV

“You’ve lost your damn mind.”

That’s the first thing that comes out of my mouth. My voice shakes a little, but I try to sound tough.

Vincenzo doesn’t even flinch. He just watches me, one of his eyebrow raised, looking like I’m a child throwing a tantrum.

“I’m not marrying anyone,” I say, pushing the blanket off me. “Especially not a stranger who breaks into my room and threatens me.”

His smile fades. “You have a sister, right. You won't want anything to happen to her.”

My stomach drops. “What?”

He steps closer, his tone calm, like he’s telling me what time it is. “ You have a sister her name is Nina, she's nineteen and right now she's in NYC. “

I felt chills run down my spine. “How do you..”

“I know everything about you, Bianca,” he says, cutting me off. “And if you say no, your sister will pay for it. ”

I stare at him, my mouth wide open but no words comes out. I couldn't let him do anything to Nina, our parents asked me to take care of her before they died. I sit still, my fingers twisting the bedsheet. Who was this man? What did he really want? Why me?

I looked into his eyes, they stared back at me showing no sign of remorse, this isn’t a joke, and I’m out of choices.

“Fine,” I whisper. “I’ll do it but don't touch my sister”

He nods once, satisfied, like he just won something. “Good girl, as long as you obey I won't touch her. You're mine now.” He turns and walks out. “Get dressed, we’re leaving.”

I didn’t move for a moment. I just sit there,my heart beating fast. Then I grab some jeans and a hoodie and follow him.

I walked out of my apartment, a black SUV with tinted windows was parked outside, it was spotless and expensive.

One of the guys opened the door

“Get in.” Enzo pockets his hand.

I hesitated. “Where are we going?”

He glanced at me. “You’ll see.”

I got inside the car feeling uneasy and nervous. The car smelled of leather and cologne, his cologne. The smell made me sick, the kind of smell that made your thoughts drift where they shouldn’t.

He sat beside me with his phone in hand scrolling through it completely relaxed while my heart was racing.

After twenty minutes, the car stopped in front of a fancy salon.

I frowned. “Seriously? You kidnapped me to get my hair done?”

He finally looked up from his phone, his tone smooth. “If you’re going to be my wife, you’ll look the part.”

“I didn’t agree to a makeover,” I said.

He smirked slightly. “You agreed to save your sister.”

I rolled my eyes but followed him inside. The place looked expensive, there were decorations and hairs of different kind, the kind of place I’d only seen on Instagram.

A woman rushed to greet him. “Mr. Vitale, welcome,” she said in a Italian accent. “What look are we creating today?”

He glanced at me, his eyes moving slowly from my head to my shoes. “Just do your job.”

The woman smiled eagerly and guided me to a chair.

As she started working on my hair, I stared at myself in the mirror. The brown bob I’d always liked turned pale, almost white. My reflection started changing before my eyes.

When she finished, I didn’t even recognize myself. My hair glowed in platinum blonde, soft waves curling around my face.

Enzo stood behind me, looking at me through the mirror. “Better,” he said simply.

“I look like a vintage Barbie,” I muttered.

He smirked. “You look like someone who belongs where she’s going.” He walked out and I followed, we entered the car again.

After a while, the car stopped again, this time in front of a massive mansion.

I couldn’t speak. The place was huge, with tall iron gates, fountains, and enough windows to fit ten of my apartments inside.

“You live here?” I asked quietly.

“For now,” he said, walking ahead.

Two guards stood at the entrance, one of them opened the doors as we entered. Everything inside was spotless, white marble floors, sparkling chandeliers, and paintings I’d only seen in magazines.

Before I could say anything, I heard a small voice.

“Enzo!”

A boy ran toward him, laughing. He looked about ten with dark brown hair, big hazel eyes, wearing a white shirt and shorts. He was cute, but there was something confident about him, like he already knew he was rich.

Enzo knelt to his level and hugged him. “Miguel,” he said, his tone softer now. “You’re supposed to be in class.”

“Finished early,” Miguel said with a grin. “Who’s that?”

Enzo turned to me. “This is Bianca. She’s… someone important.”

Miguel looked at me from head to toe, his nose slightly wrinkling. “She doesn’t look important.”

I forced a smile. “Hi, Miguel.”

He didn't reply, he just stared. Then Enzo’s phone buzzed, he checked the screen and frowned. “I have to take this.” He looked at me. “Stay here, don’t move.”

He walked away with his phone, speaking in low Italian.

Miguel was still watching me, his hands in his pockets, looking bored.

“So,” I said, trying to sound friendly, “you live here with Enzo?”

He nodded. “He’s my brother.”

“Oh, you’re his brother,” I said, surprised. “I thought you were…..never mind.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You thought I was what?”

“Nothing, forget it.” I forced a smile. “You like video games?”

He didn’t answer.

I sighed. “You’re a tough crowd, huh?”

He didn't reply, he just stared. “Listen, kid, I’m just trying to be nice.”

“You talk too much." He raised his hand and it landed on my cheeks.

I froze. “Did you just?” Something in me snapped. I grabbed his ear and twisted it gently but firmly. “You don’t hit people like that, got it?”

He yelped, squirming. “Let go!”

“Maybe next time you’ll learn some manners.”

He sniffed and ran off crying, holding his ear.

I sighed, rubbing my cheek. “Great, I just got slapped by a little boy.”

When I turned around, Enzo was standing there. He crossed the room, grabbed my wrist, and pulled me closer. “You're going to be punished for what you just did.”