Stuck in a Mafia Romance

Viella’s POV

Ugh. My head...

I groaned and cracked one eye open

"Ow ow ow ow OW!" I whined, clutching my forehead like it personally betrayed me.

"Did I drink bleach or wine? What the hell was in that glass last night?"

I tried to sit up and blinked.

Wait.

This... was not my room.

Soft black sheets.

Minimalist decor.

Cold, silent air.

Suspiciously expensive cologne in the air.

"OH NO."

I sat up so fast I saw stars.

"I died again, didn’t I?" I whispered dramatically, palms flying to my cheeks. "I messed up the plot, got drunk, and the system killed me for ruining canon!"

Then I looked down.

Wearing a plain white oversized t-shirt.

A man’s t-shirt.

"...WHOSE SHIRT IS THIS?"

My brain went straight to red alert.

Memory loading...

Spinning room.

Slurring something like:

"OHHH YOU’RE HANDSOME!"

"You like handsome guys?"

"YAHHHH~"

I froze.

"Oh my god," I whispered.

"Oh my god oh my god oh my-"

I screamed into a pillow. "WHAT DID I DOOOO?!"

Did I confess?! Did I lick his face?! Did I STRIP?! WHY AM I WEARING A T-SHIRT THAT ISN’T MINE?!

I was on the verge of calling an exorcist for my own soul when the door creaked open.

Please don’t be Dante. Please don’t be Dante. Or worse-Alina. I can’t survive another Saint Girl glare.

To my immense relief, it was just a maid.

Young. Innocent. Carrying a tray.

She bowed politely, as if I wasn’t dying of embarrassment.

"Good morning, Miss Viella. Sir instructed me to deliver these new pairs of clothes and breakfast once you woke up," she said calmly.

Then added, "He said you should freshen up, eat, and rest."

Rest? REST?!

No, ma’am. I’m going to REST IN PEACE if I stay here!

But before I could bolt for the window, I caught a whiff of something divine.

Strawberries?

Caramel drizzle?

...Wait, was that crêpes?!

I peeked.

It was a full tray of my favorites-strawberry pancakes, warm buttery croissants, fresh fruits, and even coffee with a lil heart in the foam.

Tears gathered in my eyes.

I looked at the clothes. Then at the food. Then at the door.

"...I mean... running away on an empty stomach is unhealthy, right?"

I picked up a fork.

"Just one bite... okay maybe two... then I’ll flee"

I bit into the strawberry pancake and actually moaned.

"...Oh my god. If this is what dying feels like, maybe it’s fine."

And that’s how I ended up cross-legged on Dante’s bed, wearing his shirt, devouring breakfast, and plotting the most stealthy escape in mafia history.

---

I literally ran out the second I finished that last bite of strawberry pancake, hair still dripping from the shower. I didn’t even wait for the maid to come back. Nope. I bolted like a criminal fleeing the scene-with the lingering scent of Dante’s expensive soap still clinging to me.

Good thing nonna was out with Alina. One less witness.

By the time I reached home, my heart was thudding. I slammed my bedroom door shut, locked it, and collapsed onto my bed with a scream muffled by my pillow.

"WHAT DID I DOOOO?!"

My eyes shot open, hands grabbing at my hair like I was trying to pull the shame out of my skull.

"I’m gonna DIE outta embarrassment, wtf wtf WTF did I do last night?!"

Why. Can’t. I. Remember?!

I checked the bracelet. Still there. This... this is the perfect moment. The stars have aligned. The heavens are guiding me.

I can escape. Right now. Without facing Dante.

Yes. Yes! I am SO SMART. Genius. Einstein who? Viella Newton on the run, baby!

"HAHAHAHA-" I broke into full maniacal laughter like a cartoon villain escaping prison.

...And then I started crying.

"What if he kills me for yesterday?!" I wailed, collapsing dramatically on the floor l. "OH MY GOD I CALLED HIM HANDSOME TO HIS FACE. WHAT IF HE THINKS I LIKE HIM?!"

Which I didn’t. At all.

Not even a bit.

I rolled under my blanket and whispered into the darkness:

"I’m never drinking apple cider again. Ever. Even if it’s organic."

Then sat up.

"And why the hell did it taste so good??"

I sighed, dramatically again, staring at the ceiling.

Okay, deep breath.

Sit up straight. Shoulders back. Don’t stutter. Don’t cry. Don’t puke.

After what happened today, there’s no way he even wants to see my face. Honestly, same. I don’t wanna see his face either. Especially not after that incident. But... whatever, it doesn’t matter. I’m gonna cancel the engagement. Like I planned. Leave this mafia mess behind and go live in a sunflower field or something.

Right?

RIGHT?!

I got up, dressed.

----------

Dads Office

I traveled all this way just to try and save my life. Who would’ve thought?

Standing in front of the heavy oak doors, I paused.

Why was I shaking?

Oh. Right. Because that man once shot a wine glass out of someone’s hand for mispronouncing his name.

And I’m about to tell him I want to break off the engagement he sold me into like some shiny auction item.

Cool cool cool. We’re fine. Totally chill.

I took a sharp breath and knocked.

"Come in," came the deep, irritated growl from within.

Gulp.

I stepped inside.

"Uh... greetings, Father," I said carefully, closing the door behind me like I was sealing my own fate.

He didn’t even look up from the papers he was signing.

"What brings you here? I already transferred your monthly money. Or did you cause another scandal?"

"No! No, none of that," I said quickly.

He sighed and looked up. Cold. Calculating. Already annoyed.

"Then what? Speak. You have one minute."

"...IwanttobreaktheengagementwithDante," I said in a rush. Smooth, Viella. Real smooth.

His brows furrowed. "What?"

"I mean... I want to break off the engagement. With Dante."

Silence.

Heavy silence.

He slowly stood up. 𝗳𝗿𝐞𝕖𝘄𝗲𝕓𝗻𝚘𝚟𝕖𝐥.𝚌𝕠𝕞

"You... what?"

"I’m serious," I said, trying to keep my voice from shaking. "I don’t want to marry him. I know this was all about some business deal but I-I can’t do this anymore."

He slammed his hand against the desk. "Do you think this is some kind of dollhouse game, Viella?!"

I flinched.

"This is about power. About our reputation. You begged me for this match-begged. And now what? You change your mind and expect me to nod and smile?!"

I bit my lip. "That was before I knew he was an actual-! I just... I want out."

He came around the desk, looming over me like a stormcloud.

"If we pull out now, the media will eat us alive. The cartel families will smell weakness. The shareholders will panic. I will not be humiliated by your childish tantrum!"

"I’m not throwing a tantrum!" I argued back, my voice cracking a little. "I’m trying to survive, Father! He’s... not safe."

"And you think I am?" he snapped.

Point taken.

I looked down.

"There has to be another way... please."

He paused. Eyes narrowing.

"Unless he calls it off, the engagement stands."

My heart sank. "But-"

"But..." he drawled, and leaned closer. "If you want me to even consider breaking this alliance, then you’ll bring me that land deal with the Veroni family. The one Dante’s been stringing us along for months."

My head shot up. "That deal? That’s impossible. Even you couldn’t-"

He smirked coldly. "Exactly. You bring me Dante’s signature on that contract, and I’ll let you go. Both from the engagement... and my house."

I froze.

"And if you fail," he continued, voice dropping, "you’ll marry him next month. Publicly. With cameras. And smile like the perfect little princess you pretended to be."

My throat went dry.

I nodded shakily. "Deal."

"Good girl," he said, already returning to his seat. "You have two days."

Two days?!

"I-Wait what?!"

"Door’s that way," he said without looking up.

Okay. Three days to get a mafia boss.. to sign a land deal.

Easy.

...Right?

---

On the Way Back Home

Okay. Step one done. Somehow survived. Step two... get that damned contract.

Wait, how am I supposed to get it?

I slumped deeper into the leather seat as the car rolled through the city. My phone buzzed twice, but I ignored it. Probably stress-induced.

The moment the driver stopped the car, I practically jumped out,

"Okay, Viella. Think. Think. Breathe. Cry later. Contract now."

As I marched toward the mansion gate, someone suddenly stepped in front of me.

I gasped and looked up, clutching my purse.

Elias.

Why is it always him showing up when I’m having an emotional breakdown?

"Hey," he said casually, tilting his head. "I’ve been calling you. You didn’t answer. Everything good?"

I blinked, trying to gather myself. "Uh... ah... yeah. Sorry. I was lost in thoughts."

He raised an eyebrow. "You seem really stressed. Want to talk it out? I was just about to make some coffee after this walk.."

And then... the word "coffee" echoed like a divine intervention. The universe really said caffeine over crying.

"Sure," I mumbled, too emotionally drained to question motives.

---

Elias’s House

The place was-well-massive. It wasn’t as cold as Dante’s mansion, but it still screamed old money and clean crimes.

He told me to sit while he made coffee. I wandered into the living room like a lost lamb. Expensive. Elegant. The air smelled like roasted beans and expensive cologne.

"So," Elias’s voice came from the kitchen, smooth as silk. "Care to tell me what’s got you looking like a haunted tax auditor?"

I hesitated. "Family stuff. Mafia family stuff," I muttered under my breath.

"Say again?"

"I need to find some contract papers."

He walked out with two mugs and sat opposite me. "What kind?"

I took a deep breath. "There’s this business deal my dad wants. Apparently need Dante’s sign in it. The Veroni familys deal. You know they’re so famous for their international business. And Dante is their main face."

He blinked slowly.

"Veroni?" he asked with a smirk, setting my coffee down.

"Yes."

"Haha, wow. You could’ve just asked sooner."

I stared. "...What?"

"They’re my business partners, Viella. I can give you the contract papers any time."

My jaw dropped.

"You serious??" My eyes lit up like a Christmas tree.

As he passed me the cup of coffee, I might have launched myself across the couch and hugged him tight. "THANK YOU! YOU JUST SAVED MY LIFE-"

he smiled, but his tone dropped just slightly.

"But..."

Uh-oh.

"...There’s a condition."

"...What?"

"You’ll accompany me to dinner tonight."

I blinked. "That’s it? Just dinner?"

"Yes," he said with that same unreadable grin. "Dinner. No Dante. Just you, me"

I paused.

This felt too simple. Too easy. But I needed those papers.

but

Was this... a trap?

I smiled nervously. "Ahh... sure. I mean, dinner’s harmless, right? What’s the worst that can happen?"

Why... do I suddenly feel like a pawn moving into the center of a chessboard?

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

TO BE CONTINUED