In The Wrong Mafia Don's Bed

Isabella POV The Moretti Estate’s grand foyer was a cavern of black-and-white marble, echoing with the terrifying reality of my new life. The vaulted ceilings were painted with Sicilian myths, but the air felt like a tomb. The moment we stepped inside, the fragile thread connecting Frankie and me was severed. Two massive guards immediately ushered my sister toward the east wing. A trembling young maid stepped into my line of sight. She fumbled with two keycards the butler had just shoved into her hands. Her wide, nervous eyes darted between Frankie’s retreating form and my shivering, lace-draped figure. Completely overwhelmed and confusing the two brides in our identical white veils, she handed the keycard for Leo's suite to Frankie’s guard, and gestured for me to follow her to the Don's master suite. I followed her in a daze. But as we walked, the corridor grew suffocatingly opulent. The chatter of the arriving guests faded into a heavy, oppressive silence. Oil portraits of past Moretti Dons glared down at me from the silk-lined walls. The security here was too tight, the air too thick with the scent of power. This wasn't a second son's quarters. Up ahead, a broad, imposing back came into view. Damien Moretti. Panic seized my throat. I spun around to flee, but my stiletto caught on the slick, polished marble. I pitched backward, a gasp tearing from my lips. Before I hit the ground, an iron grip clamped around my waist. The impact knocked the breath from my lungs. I looked up into Damien’s bottomless, dead eyes. For a split second, the sheer, terrifying power radiating from him paralyzed me. He didn't catch me out of kindness; he caught me because he refused to let anything fall out of order in his domain. The moment I was steady, he released me so abruptly I stumbled. He took a deliberate step back, his jaw clenched in absolute disgust. Reaching into his tailored suit jacket, he pulled out a pristine white handkerchief and meticulously wiped his fingers, one by one, as if my very touch had contaminated him. The sheer, unadulterated contempt in his gesture ignited a hot flash of fury in my chest. I wasn't just collateral to him; I was a liability. Filth. I lifted my chin, my hands trembling with a toxic mix of humiliation and hatred, but he had already turned his back on me, disappearing down the hall. Hours later, the estate's ballroom was a gilded cage of clinking champagne glasses and watchful eyes. I stood near the edge of the dance floor, my stomach in knots as the traditional first dance began. Leo looked like he’d rather be anywhere else. He spun Frankie carelessly, a drunken, arrogant smirk on his face. Suddenly, his heavy dress shoe came down hard on the delicate lace of her Vera Wang train. I gasped, expecting her to stumble or cry out. Instead, Frankie’s spine went rigid. She maintained her flawless, camera-ready smile, gracefully leaning into Leo’s chest. She whispered something directly into his ear—just one brief sentence. I couldn't hear the words, but I saw the blood drain completely from Leo’s face. His smirk vanished, replaced by raw, unmasked terror. He swallowed hard. For the rest of the song, he held her with stiff, terrified precision, treating her like a live explosive. A tiny, fierce spark of hope flared in my chest. Leo thought he had married a docile canary, but he had just caught a glimpse of the she-devil inside. Frankie wasn't breaking. By the time the reception dragged into the early hours of the morning, I was entirely numb. The same nervous maid found me and led me back to the suite I had nearly reached earlier. The heavy mahogany door clicked shut behind me, sealing me in. The room was a cavernous, dark space smelling of cedar, expensive leather, and a faint trace of whiskey. It didn't look like Leo's style, but I was too exhausted to care. I stripped off the suffocating wedding dress, leaving it in a heap on the floor. Crawling into the center of the massive, cold bed, I pulled the heavy duvet over my head and closed my eyes, praying to God that Leo would be too drunk to find his way to this room tonight.