The Mafia Devil's Contractual Wife

~Valentino~

I stretched out a hand to her, my gaze locking onto her perfect, full-figured body. For some reason, I had always preferred curvier women. Society glorified tall, thin women with sharp cheekbones and endless legs, but that wasn't what I wanted.

I wanted a woman with flesh, softness, and curves that could handle a man like me.

Alina had all that and more.

Her rich, dark hair cascaded past her back in loose waves, framing a heart-shaped face. Her bright green eyes were filled with fear, an emotion that, for some reason, intrigued me. Her full lips trembled slightly, and her porcelain white skin had lost its color from shock.

The maids had dressed her while she was unconscious to avoid any delays, and I had to admit, they did a damn good job. The fitted silk dress hugged her curves perfectly, cinching at the waist before flowing elegantly to the floor. The makeup they applied made her look more mature, stripping away the innocence her bare face carried.

She didn't move.

I sighed, rolling my eyes. Women were so damn troublesome.

If not for the loyalty I owed Padrino for pulling me out of the gutters of Toronto and giving me a better life, I would have killed him, overthrown him, and taken his place as Don instead of dealing with this hassle.

Without a word, I bent to her eye level.

She flinched slightly.

"Why so scared? I don't kill," I murmured, reaching out and tucking a loose strand of her silky hair behind her ear.

My voice turned colder.

"Unless you steal from me, owe me, or stress me like you currently are."

Her breath hitched. Fear crept into her expression like a cornered rabbit realizing it had no escape.

Good.

This was exactly why I chose her to be my wife-gentle, naive , and timid. Seeing her cower before me was exactly what I wanted.

"I have important things to attend to after this wedding, and I won't let you delay me with your sluggishness."

Without warning, I gripped her waist and hoisted her into my arms in one swift motion.

She let out a soft gasp, her hands instinctively clutching my shirt in fear.

I sent her a deadly glare. "Let go."

Her eyes widened. "What?"

"If you stain my shirt, I swear I'll wash it off with your blood."

She yelped and released me immediately.

I smirked.

Carrying her out of the room, I strode into the courtyard of my mansion, where a convoy of blacked-out SUVs was already waiting. The moment Rocco spotted me, he rushed over, his usual stone-cold demeanor slightly tense.

"Boss, there's an emergency."

I adjusted Alina against my chest, my expression flat.

"I told you no business today. I don't want any disturbances."

"Yes, sir, but it's urgent. The Capo of-"

I raised a hand, silencing him. Alina was too timid. If she realized who I truly was before the wedding, she might panic and make things difficult.

Rocco understood immediately, lowering his voice as he whispered in my ear.

"The Capo of the Cortés Crew is causing trouble in Toronto. Andre reported that his men were spotted at Milan's airport. I think he's here for you."

I scoffed.

"That weakling? Ignore him. This is my city. He won't make it past the airport. Padrino has men stationed everywhere."

"Yes, sir." Rocco bowed and opened the limo door.

I placed Alina inside the limo, watching as she nervously adjusted the silky folds of her dress. She was jittery, biting her lip, her hands smoothing over the fabric as if she could iron out the tension crawling up her spine.

I smirked, leaning back into the plush leather seat.

The ride was silent, but I could feel her fear thick in the air, suffocating.

I reached into my pocket, pulling out a sleek, rose-gold phone. Without a word, I handed it to her.

The moment her fingers touched the device, her eyes widened.

"My phone!" She snatched it from my hand like a drowning woman grabbing a lifeline.

"Thank God. I thought I lost it last night."

She scrolled through the screen rapidly, her expression shifting-relief, then confusion, and finally heartbreak.

Her shoulders tensed. Her breathing hitched. Then soft, muffled sobs.

I exhaled through my nose, the sound sharp in the silence as I turned to her slowly.

"What's this nonsense about? Are you trying to ruin your makeup?"

She didn't answer.

Patience was not my virtue. I grabbed the phone from her hands with a sharp tug. Her head snapped up, but I wasn't looking at her anymore.

My gaze had landed on the screen, taking in the image before me. It was a wedding picture of her friend and her ex-fiancé.

I scoffed. Pathetic.

"There's nothing to cry about. He doesn't deserve you." I tossed the phone back onto her lap and turned my attention to the view outside.

"But I still love him."

The words sent a bolt of irritation through me.

I turned to her sharply, my voice cold and clipped.

"Shut up!"

She flinched.

"You're getting married to me in a few minutes. How dare you cry over another man-a weak, broke man at that."

Her eyes locked with mine, glossy with unshed tears, before she quickly looked away, sniffling softly.

The limo fell into silence.

I finally turned, resting my fist on my temple, already dreading the rest of my days. Killing the Don of the Russian mafia was far easier than having a woman in my life.

Just six more months, and I'll finally be free from her when Padrino steps down for me.

Everything remained quiet until a soft clicking sound broke through the silence.

The noise was subtle, but my ears were trained to pick up every little detail.

I turned back sharply, my voice tinged with irritation.

"What the hell did you just do?"

Alina wiped at her tear-streaked cheeks, her chin lifting in defiance.

"Pictures. I want them to know I got married to someone better."

I stared at her for a moment, an unfamiliar flicker of pity stirring inside me.

If only she knew-I'm not better.

"Delete it."

"Why?"

I sighed. Women were so damn talkative.

The Cortés Crew was in Milan. If she posted that picture, they'd find me in an instant. This wedding was low-key for a reason. I didn't need my enemies knowing I now had a weakness.

"Just do it. I don't like my pictures on social media."

"I won't delete it," she said stubbornly, "but I promise not to post it."

I glared at her in silence. She was disobeying me?

Forget it.

It was just some pictures. Let her keep them.

By the time we pulled up to the Milan Community Registry Hall, Alina had calmed slightly. The old building stood tall before us, its stone weathered but still looking strong.

I stepped out first, adjusting the cuff of my Brioni suit before turning back to her.

Her hesitation irritated me, but I held out a hand.

"Here."

She placed her trembling fingers in mine, and I led her inside.

The hall was adorned with dark marble floors, towering chandeliers, and heavy velvet drapes.

Padrino was already inside, dressed in a charcoal suit, his presence as commanding as ever.His sharp eyes assessed me, then flicked toward Alina before he gave a slow nod of approval.

Alina's face lit up when she spotted her grandmother and cousin waiting near the front.

A rare, genuine smile stretched across her lips and something unfamiliar stirred in my chest.

Why did I care? I looked away.

The officiant began the formalities, and everything went smoothly. Within minutes, we were declared married.

A quiet sigh of relief escaped her lips.

I turned to her, my voice low and teasing.

"No backing out now, moglie[wife]."

She shot me a glare, but before she could speak, a deafening explosion rattled the hall.

The chandeliers trembled and the floors shuddered beneath us.

What the fuck?

I spun sharply, my hand already reaching for the gun holstered inside my jacket.

Rocco, who had been guarding outside, rushed in, his face grim as he approached me.

"Boss, we're under attack!"

Impossible. This wedding was kept a fucking secret.

Unless-

My head snapped toward Alina. She stood frozen, eyes wide with horror.

I took one step toward her, my voice low and lethal.

"Did you post that picture?"

She swallowed, guilt flashing across her face.

"Yes... I wanted to make them jealous."

Fucking hell.

"You stupid woman!" My rage ignited like gasoline. I seized her wrist in a bruising grip, dragging her forward without a second thought.

Gunfire erupted around us. The sharp crack of bullets echoed through the hall, screams blending into the chaos.

Padrino-where the fuck was he? He was too old and too weak to be caught in this fight.

I turned sharply, my eyes locking onto him. He stood near the front.

"Padrino!" I barked, pushing Alina toward cover.

"We're under attack. I need to get you to safety."

His lips pressed into a thin line, but he nodded without argument.

I moved fast, gripping his arm as I led him toward the exit. His steps were steady, but I could feel the tension in his body, the way his shoulders stiffened as bullets tore through the marble walls behind us.

"Who betrayed us?" His voice was low, dangerous.

Alina whimpered beside me, her body trembling.

I didn't answer.

I just tightened my grip on her wrist and kept moving while my eyes scanned for Alina's family. They were just guests, I couldn't allow them to be involved in my mess.

I didn't make it to the door when a thick voice cut through the chaos.

"Well, well. Look who's running-the Devil of Milan himself."

I turned.

El Dorado. The Capo of the Cortés Crew.

He stepped forward, a predator's smirk playing on his lips. The bastard was dressed like he was attending a gala, not orchestrating a bloodbath.

"You thought you could kill my men over five kilos of shipment and walk away?" he mused.

"You took five of my finest soldiers. Now, I'll lay them to rest with the blood of your beautiful bride and your precious godfather."

My grip tightened on my gun.

"You have a lot of guts coming to attack me in my territory, Dorado," I said coolly.

"But I'll let this slide. I'm not in the mood for bloodshed today. Let's talk. You and me. These people are innocent."

El Dorado tilted his head, then c*cked his gun, pointing it directly at us.

"So were my men."

The gun fired.

I barely had time to react before Alina's scream tore through the air.

"Nana!"

Her grandmother had stepped in front of her, taking the bullet meant for her.

My chest clenched.

Another shot rang out, louder than the rest, cutting through the chaos like a blade.

I turned just in time to see Padrino stagger, his body jerking as the bullet struck. A crimson stain bloomed across his charcoal suit, spreading fast.

His sharp eyes widened for a fraction of a second before his knees buckled.

"No!"