Stuck in a Mafia Romance

DANTE’S POV

"We found nothing, sir."

Click.

I tossed the phone onto the desk with a low thud. My fingers curled around the edge of the table - the same way my patience was holding onto its last breath.

Two months. Two whole months and still no trace of the rats who tried to take Alina from me.

I have no idea why I am behaving like this but the thought of her being snatched away from me makes my blood boil.

My jaw ticked. I grabbed a glass of wine and made my way to the window. The city stretched out below, glittering like it knew I owned it.

But nothing glowed brighter than her.

Alina.

That soft, untainted thing the world tried to stain.

My grip tightened around the glass, but I didn’t break it this time. Control.

Lately, though, I was losing it.

Viella.

What the hell was she doing?

That woman had always been a storm - dramatic, loud, clingy to the point of suffocation. I used to ignore her. Now... she was quiet. Subtle. Too subtle.

Whatever happened in that dinner is still lingering in my head.

She used to blow up my phone

Now? Silence.

I picked up my phone again, checked her chat.

Last message

A week ago.

I should feel relieved. But instead...

Why the hell does that make my skin itch?

I dialed one of my men. "Track her movements. I want to know where she’s been. If she breathes near Alina again-I want to know before she does."

"Yes, sir."

I don’t trust her. That sudden shift? No one changes unless they’re hiding something.

A knock.

I didn’t even turn.

"Come in."

It was Alina.

Wearing a soft cardigan, her hair loose, carrying a file I left in the office. Her scent hit first - soft vanilla with a hint of whatever it is that drives me insane.

"Um... you left these." She held out the folder like I was something that might bite.

Smart girl.

"Also the tea. This is my mother’s recipe, helps with stress."

I took the papers and the tea. "Thank you."

She nodded and turned to leave.

I didn’t stop her.

Still, after she left, I stood there for minutes- just breathing.

I looked down at the tea, she gave me these before as well and it sure helped with stress, it calmed me down.

---

Next Morning.

"Sir," my man called, voice shaking over the line. "That house... someone’s been there recently. Something’s missing."

I paused. "Didn’t I tell you to check every inch of it?"

"We did, sir. But... someone went in after us or before us. Quiet. Smart. Nothing broken. But the dust, the floor- it’s been walked on."

"Then find out who it was," I snapped. "Or start planning your funeral."

Click.

I leaned back in my chair, temples pulsing.

Who had the guts to sneak in like that?

And why did Viella suddenly flash in my mind?

"Also check where Viella was on that following night"

-

A few hours later, a black envelope slid across my desk.

It wasn’t from my men.

It was a formal invite - some rich, annoying politician’s son throwing a party I had no interest in.

Until I opened the second card tucked within it.

Gold foil. Handwritten.

I ignored half of the shit written on that till my eyes laned on the last line

"I know what you’re looking for. I can lead you to the path of your heart."

Below that:

Guest of Honor: Miss Alina Grace

My eyes darkened.

So. He knows. Whoever this sender is- he knows how to play.

Alina. My weakness

That invitation wasn’t a party. It was bait.

And it worked.

Then the final blow: a call from Viella’s father. Darius Vielle

"Dante! My daughter would be honored to accompany you. I believe it’ll be good for both families. You know, keeping things... smooth."

That rat-faced liar.

He was never subtle. Nor was his daughter. But lately, Viella’s been playing a little too quiet.

---

Shopping.

If there’s one thing Viella loved more than the sound of her own voice, it was dragging me to every overpriced boutique in the city before any event.

She claimed it was tradition. I called it a waste of time.

But this time, it wasn’t her plan. It was her father’s request.

"Spend time with your fiancée," he’d said.

I didn’t roll my eyes, but I wanted to.

Viella and I weren’t a couple. We were a contract.

And right now, I had far more important things to deal with than watching her throw tantrums over fabric choices.

Still, appearance mattered. I was Dante Luciano Moretti - heir to an empire. I couldn’t afford a crack in the illusion. So, I did the bare minimum.

I called her.

She picked up after the second ring.

"Yes, my dear fiancé?" she said with a tone soaked in mockery.

My eye twitched.

There it is - the usual Viella performance.

I didn’t give her the satisfaction of hearing my sigh. "Be ready. 2 PM. Boutique."

And I hung up before she could say another word.

I wasn’t in the mood for her sass today.

But for some reason her voice made an impact.

-

Alina, on the other hand, was finishing her work in the study. She always moved so quietly, like she was trying not to disturb the air around her.

So unlike Viella.

She wore a simple cream-colored dress, nothing flashy. Her hair tied back, a few strands falling near her cheek.

Beautiful in a way that didn’t need effort.

I noticed the way her sleeves had been stitched- the thread a little worn. She didn’t own designer clothes, not like Viella.

That was the real reason I had planned the shopping trip.

Not for Viella.

But for her.

I wanted Alina dressed like someone who belonged next to me. Not as my maid. Not as some background figure.

Even if I didn’t say it out loud... yet.

"Get ready," I said, quietly.

She looked up, confused.

"We are going out"

Then

I Just walked away.

Because Dante Moretti doesn’t show his emotions.

-

Viella would arrive late. She always did.

I didn’t go to pick her up.

I was on a call, business as usual - finalizing a shipment that could either make or break a deal with our new Sicilian partners. My tone was clipped, calm, calculated.

Until the boutique’s glass doors chimed.

From the corner of my eye, I caught a flicker of movement - sleek heels, and-

Viella.

Late. As expected.

"You’re late," I said, eyes narrowing slightly.

She didn’t even flinch like usual.

"Hello, dear fiancé~," she greeted in a fake voice

My eye twitched. Again.

Is she trying to sound like a British aristocrat?

I didn’t have time for games.

"Finish this soon. I don’t have time for nonsense," I said sharply, signaling the boutique staff with a cold glance.

They scrambled toward her.

Good.

Back to the call.

But before I could say another word into the phone, I heard Alina.

"I-I’m sorry, Lady Viella... I didn’t mean to pick the same dress-"

I turned, jaw tightening.

"She doesn’t even wear such cloths," I said because never does. Shes probably looking for trouble right now.

She used to wear glitter, rhinestones, and dangerously tight silhouettes

But recently...

Why am I even noticing what she wears?

I cut off the thought before it could grow teeth.

Back to business.

---

Later, while helping Alina- mostly to keep the overly friendly male staff from hovering -I heard those damn heels again.

I looked up.

And for a split second - just one - I forgot what I was doing.

Viella walked in wearing a dress.

Not glittering.

A silky dark emerald dress, hugging her curves like it had been designed solely for her. Sleeveless, with an asymmetrical neckline and open back.

And skin. More than enough to make half the men in this boutique shift in their stance.

Including me.

"You gonna wear that?" The words came out before I could stop them.

She raised a brow. "Yeah. What’s the issue?"

"...Nothing."

Absolutely nothing, except the way every guy in this store just started staring.

I felt irritated for some reason. Alina beside me tugged my sleeve

I turned to pay, eager to end this nonsense.

But someone beat me to it.

Viella’s card was already out.

She paid for her dress.

Trying to act distant now?

I glanced at her from the side.

Still smirking. Still acting unfazed.

for some reason

And I didn’t like it.

Because I couldn’t read her properly anymore. It’s making me want to know what she’s hiding behind all those cunning acts.

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TO BE CONTINUED