"Y-you're his what? F-fiancée?" I stammered, unable to contain my astonishment, breaking the oppressive silence in the room. Her sharp gaze bore into me, and if glares could kill, I'd be long gone. How had I ended up marrying someone else's fiancée? This was beyond unbelievable.
Before she could respond, a sudden clatter of utensils drew everyone's attention to the man seated on my left. He calmly wiped his mouth, stood up, and the woman who had been berating me fell silent. His eyes moved from person to person before finally settling on me, a sly smile forming on his lips.
"It's a pleasure to finally meet you, my daughter-in-law," he greeted me, introducing himself as Danillo Luca, Massimo's father. It explained the striking resemblance and shared aura of intimidation between them. Although Alajandro was more imposing.
"You'll make a formidable Madame Mafia in this household. I can see the fire in your eyes," he added, his words leaving me stunned. With that, he patted Alajandro's shoulder and exited the room. Everyone seemed to breathe a collective sigh of relief as if they had been holding their breath since he had started speaking to me.
"Gwyneth, you've heard my father. He has officially recognized Natalia as his daughter-in-law and the Madame of this Mafia. As I've mentioned before, I broke off that useless engagement long ago. Now, show some respect to my wife and refrain from raising your voice in my territory, Miss Smith. Remember your place," Alajandro said, his voice dripping with calm but deadly authority.
So, that was her name, Gwyneth Smith. It suited her, but her attitude was far from agreeable. She exuded an air of arrogance and sassiness that rubbed everyone, including me, the wrong way.
Gwyneth reluctantly sank back into her seat, her father whispering something to her, causing her grip to tighten. I didn't care about her father's advice. My concern was finding a way out of this place and returning to California as soon as possible.
Being surrounded by the Mafia was no laughing matter. And Mafia? As in the Italian Mafia? This situation was far worse than marrying an unknown man.
Alajandro led me to a seat beside him without a word, and I obliged. I wouldn't risk challenging the Boss's orders; it was simply too dangerous.
"Thank you," I murmured to him as I settled into my seat. He glanced at me before planting a kiss on my forehead. It surprised me, but I quickly masked my reaction with a smile. I wouldn't allow myself to be embarrassed in front of these people.
He signaled for one of the maids to approach, but I stopped her. "No, I can do it myself," I insisted, prompting curious glances from everyone. He hesitated for a moment before instructing the maid to return to her place.
***
After finishing our meal, which I couldn't deny was delicious, including the desserts, I refrained from indulging in further sweets, well aware of the scrutinizing eyes around me. As we moved to the living room, a guest expressed his pleasure at meeting Alajandro and me. Alajandro, however, responded with only brief nods and one-word answers throughout the entire interaction.
My vacation had been unexpectedly cut short, it seemed. I'd thought I had two weeks here, but it appeared that it would last only two days.
"And where do you think you're going, wife?" Alajandro's voice interrupted my thoughts as I reached for the door.
"Uh, with all due respect, Mr. Luca..." I began, but he cut me off, clarifying that I could address him as Alajandro.
"Alajandro, I need to return to California," I explained softly.
"Why?" he inquired.
"Well, I have a company waiting for me there, and that's my home country," I replied. "We can simply file for a divorce to end this marriage, and you can marry Gwyneth."
"Do you think I would agree to your condition?" he retorted. "Divorce is not in my vocabulary. I'll allow you to return to California, but I'll be following you. Don't think you can hide from me. I can easily find you."
I nodded in reluctant agreement. It seemed I was indeed saying goodbye to my single life, returning to California married to a man I barely knew, aside from his business reputation as one of the world's wealthiest individuals.
"Okay," I muttered, lowering my gaze.
"Take my jet; my driver will escort you to the airport," he said, pulling out his phone to make arrangements. While he spoke with his driver in Italian, I considered declining, but I had no idea how to navigate this place.
Once their conversation ended, the driver started the car, and we headed towards the airport. As we left the mansion behind, I admired the sprawling, modern Italian house and its lush surroundings, thinking it was far removed from the city. However, I soon realized we were still within the city when we reached the highway.
I glanced at the ring on my finger, tracing its diamonds with my fingers. Memories of the previous night flooded back.
**FLASHBACK**
My head was spinning, and I could barely walk. I had just left the club and was fumbling in the parking lot, struggling to locate my car. I pressed the car key repeatedly, trying to locate it, but to no avail.
Annoyed, I approached a car, intending to open the door, when a hand grabbed mine, preventing me from doing so. I looked up and saw a tall, impeccably dressed man in a suit. He was incredibly handsome.
"Woman, that's my car," he said, his deep voice sending shivers down my spine. He caught me as I staggered, preventing me from collapsing.
"Marry me," I slurred, looking up at him. He regarded me, seemingly assessing me, before raising an eyebrow.
I continued to stare at him, admiring his handsome face. Such opportunities to meet such a fine specimen were rare, and I wanted to savor it.
Before I could say more, someone else approached, interrupting us. I was about to respond when I noticed them bowing to us, or rather, to him. They spoke rapidly in Italian.
Someone opened the car door for him, and before I knew it, he had pulled me inside. The door closed, and the driver got in, starting the engine. No one spoke during the ride, and my intoxication prevented me from articulating any questions. I had a vague sense that I was headed for an uncertain destination.
I wasn't sure how long we drove, but eventually, the car came to a stop. Someone opened the door for us, and I accepted the offered hand. As we entered a luxurious mansion, I felt completely out of place in my inebriated state.
I was led to a sofa and handed a drink. I looked around the room as the effects of alcohol washed over me. Eventually, I fell asleep.
**END OF FLASHBACK**
My cheeks flushed with embarrassment as I remembered what had transpired after we signed the marriage certificate. It had been a night of recklessness, and now I had to face the consequences.
I couldn't entirely blame the alcohol, as I had willingly gone along with it and had even signed the marriage certificate myself. Now, I had to navigate this unexpected turn in my life.
I hadn't realized I'd fallen asleep until a gentle tap on my shoulder woke me. I opened my eyes, disoriented, and heard a voice.
"Madame, we've arrived at the airport," a man's voice said. I nodded, realizing I needed to catch my flight. As I stepped out of the car, I was met with a line of airport personnel who bowed to me. I offered a nod in return, understanding that they knew me as Alajandro's wife.
"Welcome, ma'am. I'm David Jones, the manager of this airline. Your private jet is this way," he informed me, guiding me towards the aircraft. It was much larger than I had anticipated, resembling a commercial airplane but privately owned.
I settled into the seat and fastened my seatbelt, feeling a mix of emotions. As we taxied down the runway and took off, I couldn't help but wonder how I had ended up in this extraordinary situation.
Eventually, I unbuckled my seatbelt and decided to explore the jet. It had its own kitchen, living room, bathroom, and bedroom. Exhausted from the day's events, I found myself lying on the comfortable mattress, my muscles relaxing.
Sleep beckoned, and I succumbed to its call, hoping that when I woke up, I would be better equipped to face the challenges of my unexpected new life.