His Substitute Turned Into the Mafia Queen

Adrianna’s POV

He stepped forward, grabbing my wrist. “Leave. Before Don Conti sees you.”

Bianca stopped him. “I invited her.”

“But, babe—”

Right on cue, Bianca gasped. “Oh—my ring.”

Her hand was suddenly bare.

“I must have left it in the bathroom.” Her gaze shifted—toward the direction I had just come from, then back to me. “Adrianna… were you just in the bathroom?”

Marco immediately signaled two men to check.

They came back minutes later and shook their heads.

Marco turned to me, his grip tightening as he pulled me closer. “Where is it? Take it out now. This is the Conti mansion—not the casino. We can’t afford to upset Don Conti.”

Bianca looked at me, eyes wide, soft, innocent.

The same act. Did she ever get tired of it?

I shook his hand off. “I don’t have it.”

Marco’s jaw clenched. He lowered his voice, barely holding it together. “Take it out. Now.”

“I said I didn’t take it.”

A few girls stepped forward—faces I recognized from Bianca’s photos online.

One pinched her nose, sneering. “Looks like our kind-hearted Bianca brought in a little mouse.”

“Mouse?” another scoffed, eyeing me up and down. “More like a stray dog. Look at her dress—cheap.”

They laughed.

One of them tilted her head. “I heard you’re an orphan?”

She leaned toward Bianca. “You’re too nice. People like that… they grow up stealing. It’s probably second nature by now.”

“No parents to teach them manners,” another added lightly.

Their voices grew sharper, crueler.

“Do I need to call a doctor to check your hearing? I already said I don’t have it—didn’t you hear me?”

Their smiles vanished. “What did you just say?”

“Why should we believe you?” one shot back. “If I were you, I’d search her. She’s probably hiding it.”

“Yeah. Take off her dress—see where she hid it.”

Two of them stepped forward, ready to grab me.

Behind them, Bianca blinked slowly, her tone calm, almost gentle.

“Adrianna… I’ve always seen you as a friend. I even forgave you for pushing me the other day.” She sighed softly. “That ring means everything to me. It’s a symbol of Marco’s love. If you like jewelry, I can give you anything else… but that ring…”

Her eyes met mine. “Could you please return it to me?”

The softer she sounded, the more it felt like she was putting on a show—like she was “protecting” me.

A girl beside her snapped, “You’re just jealous Bianca has everything, and you’re nothing but a pathetic orphan.”

Marco didn’t stop them or defend me. He just looked at me. “I’ll ask you one last time, Adrianna,” he said coldly. “Did you steal it or not?”

“If I say I didn’t… would you believe me?” I looked straight at him.

Marco hesitated—just for a second, then looked away. “You were already jealous of Bianca at the casino that day. You even pushed her. Were you already planning to steal the ring back then?”

Then the final bomb, “When did you become this cheap?”

“Marco,” one of the girls chimed in, “Enough with the talk. Just search her. That’ll prove everything.”

“Yeah, make her take it out!”

“Still pretending? After stealing Bianca’s ring?”

They closed in, surrounding me.

“Adrianna, this is your last chance,” Marco said, his gaze ice-cold. “Return it. Don’t make me forget whatever we once had.”

I grabbed a bottle from the nearest table and slammed it down, the glass shattering in my hand. I lifted the jagged edge toward them. “Touch me, and you’ll all regret it.”

A few stepped back. But two of them still looked like they were willing to try.

Before I could react, someone shoved me from behind.

I stumbled, my back crashing hard into the table. Glass bit into my hands, sharp and unforgiving, and pain shot straight through me.

My purse slipped from my hand and fell to the floor.

They rushed forward instantly, dumping everything out.

And then—“There! She stole it—there’s the evidence!”

Marco’s face darkened instantly. “And you still said you didn’t steal it, Adrianna. Didn’t I tell you to stop this act?”

“I didn’t!” I shot back. I had no idea how that ring ended up in my bag.

He grabbed my arm, dragging me toward the door. “You’re leaving. Now. Bianca invited you out of kindness—you don’t deserve to be here.”

I tried to pull free, but his grip only tightened.

Just then, a voice cut through the yard—cold and commanding. “Who dares insult my daughter?”