Stuck in a Mafia Romance

Viella POV

The past two days?

I survived purely on caffeine, panic, and spite.

Sleep?

Gone.

Peace?

Dead.

Sanity?

...on vacation without me.

I had eye bags so dark. My hair looked like a pigeon nest. My soul? Casually rotting.

All for what?

Trying to find one stupid party mentioned by a mysterious man who popped out of a closet like some discount plot and whispered nonsense.

This world was out to get me.

And I wasn’t even the main character.

"Why do I suffer when I’m not even the protagonist?" I muttered scrolling through yet another pointless guest list. "This is Alina’s world. I’m just the unpaid extra."

As I wiped sleep-deprived tears from my crusty eyes, my phone rang.

Without thinking, I answered. My soul already half-departed.

"Hello-?"

"YOU LOOK LIKE A DRUNK POSSUM THAT WAS DUMPED IN A GUTTER!"

I flinched.

There she was.

Lady Vielle’s Demon Mom.

Stunning. Vicious. Wearing pearls at 9 a.m. and verbally stabbing me through FaceTime.

On camera.

I stared at the screen and instinctively tried to fix my bird nest of a bun.

"Have you been drinking again?! Sleeping around like a barmaid in a bad romance novel?! Is that a pimple or a curse mark on your face?!" she spat, one hand on her hip, the other holding a glass of lemon water

In the background, I spotted a literal golden chandelier.

Ma’am. You’re yelling at me from a castle.

Before I could even breathe, my beloved father appeared on screen.

The man looked like he’d just watched the stock market crash.

"There’s a party tomorrow night. Big one. Everyone important will be there," he said, voice flat like he was reading my death sentence.

"You’ll attend with Dante. No excuses. Keep an eye on him."

Cue my sister’s cackling from the background.

"Well, watching Dante is her favorite hobby anyway~" she sang.

I didn’t respond.

I simply stared. Deadpan. Soulless.

My father ignored the silence continued, "I won’t be able to meet you for your schedule today, but your brother-"

"Yeah, yeah, got it," I cut in, the migraine finally winning. "Talk later."

And I ended the call.

My head hit the pillow.

"I need sleep. Their anger can wait."

I collapsed onto my bed and instantly passed out.

---

Six Hours Later

I woke up in a panic.

What year was it? Was I alive? Had I missed the apocalypse?

Then the memory hit.

"That’s the party," I whispered. "The one closet guy mentioned."

My body shot up like a zombie

I stumbled into the bathroom, washed my face with freezing water, and stared at my reflection.

"This must be the same party that unknown mystery guy ment"ioned. But wait how did he knew about this?"

"Get it together, Vielle," I told myself. "I have already made my man search for his identity, they will eventually find out but first i gotta deal with this party and find whatever the bracelet it is"

I sat down to eat like a homeless person who didn’t got anything to eat for days . Avocado toast. Coffee. Grapes. Another coffee. Two croissants. Another coffee.

Listen, okay? Mental breakdowns burn calories.

While scrolling through my phone, I found myself on one of Dante’s fan pages.

"Ugh. Of course. He has abs. Of course he does."

I clicked on a headline.

"Dante Mafia Lord of the Century, Untouchable and Unmatched."

"Why is this man famous for being hot and scary? I cry when I pay taxes."

The whole world loved him.

Powerful. Cold. Charming. Ruthless. Untouchable.

Except, of course, for sweet, angelic Alina, who everyone wanted to protect like a golden retriever in human form.

And me?

I was the supposed villainess, the "toxic Fiancee," the "jealous noble girl" with good shoes and worse temper.

Just as I was rolling my eyes so hard I nearly fainted, my phone rang again.

Dante.

My phone nearly fell from hand.

I answered with a smile that could qualify for sarcasm of the year.

"Yes, my dear fiancé~" I chimed sweetly.

I can feel his eyebrows twitching

"Be ready by 2 p.m.," he said, voice sharp and dry. "We’re going to shopping."

Click.

I stared at my phone.

"Did... did he just hang up on me?"

"We’re going shopping? What am I, a side quest?"

I slammed the phone down, dramatically clutching my chest.

"Shopping?! With him?! This is either a trap or he just can’t stand the way I dress."

But whatever the reason, I was not about to let him win.....and kill me of course.

.....

Dante didn’t come to pick me up.

No surprise there. Instead, he sent the location. My fiancé, ladies and gentlemen. Romance truly is dead. I arrived at the boutique, and wow. Luxurious was an understatement. The entire place screamed money, class, and definitely- Dante.

The store was his afterall.

As I stepped in, laughter echoed from somewhere inside. Light, sweet, and annoyingly familiar.

Alina.

Of course she was here. Why wouldn’t she be? It is her story, after all. The innocent heroine who falls into the arms of the cold mafia boss.

Yawn.

The staff who were just giggling moments ago? Froze like I had personally walked in with a gun about to shoot them

Tsk. "Exactly how you used to treat people, Vielle," I mentally scolded myself.

I turned the corner and there he was.

Dante.

Talking on the phone, face sharp, voice low. Business. Probably ordering someone’s untimely demise while I picked out a dress.

He turned his head slowly, those cold eyes locking with mine. A long blink.

Right. I may have... overslept. Again. After his call. Sue me.

His gaze screamed, "You’re an hour late."

I smiled sweetly and waved. "Hello, dear fiancé."

I swear, his eye twitched. LMAO. My day was already made.

"Finish this soon. I don’t have time for nonsense."

Tsk. Rude bitc—

Whatever.

The staff snapped out of their frozen daze and rushed to me like I was Beyoncé. They carried dresses with them that probably cost more than my soul. All shimmer and sparkle, high slits and covered nothing.

(A/N- I had this meme when I wrote this, "Guess who’s jealous of Adelle?")

Nope.

I wasn’t about to dress like a Las Vegas magician’s assistant today.

Instead, my eyes caught a soft pastel slip dress. Elegant. Flowy. Just the right amount of shoulder. Simple yet dangerously pretty.

I reached out-

And bam. Alina’s hand appeared from nowhere, touching the same dress like it was fate’s work.

Of course.

She smiled. "Oh, you like this too? I’m so sorry—please, take it!"

Before I could answer, Dante’s voice cut through like a cold blade.

"She doesn’t wear such clothes."

My entire soul paused.

I turned my head slowly, glaring. "Excuse me?"

He didn’t even look up.

Oh, so that’s how we’re playing this?

"Correct," I smiled sweetly. "This wasn’t my taste anyway." with that I made sure the dress fell on my feet. I noticed how Alina’s hand twitched, uh?

Then I walked off and picked up a dress that screamed ’hot evil lady’ A deep emerald silk gown, hugging just the right places, flowing down.

After changing, I stepped out-

And everything stopped.

A staff member gasped. "Oh my god, Miss Vielle, you look amazing."

I blinked. Whiplash much?

All eyes turned to me—including Dante, who was mid-drape, helping Alina zip up a frilly lace mess.

He looked up.

And for a moment... just a moment...

He was surprised.

Not the annoyed, disappointed glance I expected. No. Something sharp flickered in his eyes before he masked it, clearing his throat like he hadn’t just been caught slipping.

"You’re gonna wear that?"

I tilted my head. "Yeah. What’s the issue?"

"...Nothing."

He looked away so fast I nearly laughed.

Then, as if nothing happened, he pulled out his black card and walked to the cashier like a mafia Sugar Daddy.

But not today, sir.

I beat him to it, slipping my card onto the counter with a smug smile. "Here. I’ll pay for my own."

His hand paused in midair. The cashier looked between us, confused. I didn’t wait.

I turned, walking out of the boutique like a runway model with a grudge.

You thought Vielle loved spending your money, huh?

Guess not anymore, Mr. Dante.

Meet you at the party~

TO BE CONTINUED