Under the Mafia King’s Control

The next morning, I woke up with a strange sense of unease. The events of the previous evening kept replaying in my mind, but one persistent thought stood out: I needed to regain some semblance of normalcy.

After spending a few minutes thinking, I made my decision.

When I went downstairs to join Alessandro, I found him in the dining room, seated at the table with a document in hand and a cup of coffee in front of him. When he looked up at me, a faint smile briefly softened his features.

"Buongiorno, mia cara," he murmured softly, his tone both warm and surprising.

I froze for a moment, startled by the unexpected nickname, but finally murmured a simple, "Good morning."

His gaze rested on me with an intensity that made me uncomfortable.

Taking a deep breath, I sat across from him and finally spoke. "Alessandro, I want to go back to work today."

His smile immediately faded. He set down the document and fixed me with his dark eyes.

"No," he said calmly, but with unyielding firmness.

I frowned. "No? What do you mean, no?"

He leaned forward slightly, his hands clasped on the table. "It's not a good idea, Arianna."

"Why not?" I demanded, crossing my arms. "I can't stay cooped up here. I need to get back to a sense of normalcy, Alessandro. My job is part of my life."

He sighed softly, as if he'd anticipated this conversation. "Arianna, you're pregnant. It's not just your safety at stake—it's our child's as well."

"I know!" I snapped. "But I can't stay locked up here, pacing back and forth. I want to feel like my life hasn't completely changed! I need to find some balance."

Alessandro raised an eyebrow slightly, his piercing gaze boring into mine. "So you want to put your freedom above your safety?"

I rolled my eyes. "This isn't about freedom. It's about mental health, Alessandro. I'm suffocating here. I need to regain a part of my old life."

He remained silent for a moment, his eyes studying me as though trying to comprehend my frustration. Then, unexpectedly, he rose slowly from his chair, walked around the table, and stopped next to me.

"You're so stubborn, mia dolcezza," he said softly, his tone both amused and exasperated.

I looked up at him, thrown off balance by the nickname and his sudden closeness.

"I'll let you go back," he finally said. "But on one condition."

"I knew you'd say that," I sighed. "What condition?"

"You won't go alone. You'll take guards with you."

I immediately shook my head. "No way. I don't want to be followed around by bodyguards all day!"

A faint, almost imperceptible smile flickered across his lips. "Arianna, listen to me. If anything happened to you, I wouldn't be able to bear it. Neither would you, nor the baby."

I froze, unsettled by the unexpected softness in his voice.

"So, you have two options," he continued calmly. "You accept the guards, and they remain discreet, or you stay here."

"You're not really giving me a choice, are you?" I muttered, exasperated.

He shrugged slightly, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. "I don't joke about your safety, mia cara."

I stared at him for a moment, weighing my options, then gave in. "Fine. But they stay discreet, Alessandro. No one should notice them."

"Discreet," he promised with a nod.

I sighed and stood from my chair. As I passed him, he placed a light hand on my arm, stopping me in my tracks.

"Thank you, Arianna," he murmured, his tone sincere.

I looked up at him, once again unsettled by his sudden tenderness. Then, without a word, I walked away, trying to calm the chaos in my head.

The morning passed more quickly than I'd anticipated. Being surrounded by my colleagues, sorting manuscripts, and answering calls almost made me forget this new life that felt so oppressive.

Alessandro had kept his promise: the guards remained perfectly discreet. In fact, I hadn't even seen them all day. If I hadn't known they were there, I might have believed he'd relented on that point. But deep down, I knew they were probably somewhere, watching from a distance.

To avoid drawing attention, I spent a good part of the day nervously turning my wedding ring around my finger. This small habit helped me focus, but it also served another purpose: to hide the obvious. No one at the office knew I was married. And I wanted to keep it that way. My marriage—or rather, the complex situation I found myself in—was mine alone to deal with.

At 4:50 p.m., as I was tidying up my desk, my phone vibrated on the table. I picked it up and read Alessandro's message:

Alessandro: I'll pick you up. We have a gynecologist appointment at 5 p.m. Be ready.

I froze for a moment, rereading his words. Something about their simplicity—his direct yet protective tone—elicited an unexpected reaction from me. A faint smile crept onto my lips.

I frowned, unsettled by my own reaction. Why was I smiling? Was it because he cared for me? Because he was so predictable in his need for control? Or… was it because I was starting to feel something for him?

That last thought sent a shiver down my spine. I didn't want to confront that question. Not now.

Shaking my head to clear my thoughts, I adjusted my ring one last time and headed to the elevator, ready to meet Alessandro.

When the elevator doors closed, I immediately sensed an unusual tension. Two men I had never seen before had entered just as the elevator started, and their gazes remained fixed in my direction.

One of them, stocky, with a face shadowed by a few days' worth of stubble, positioned himself in front of me, blocking my view of the doors. The other, taller and leaner, stood slightly behind, his piercing eyes scanning every detail, as if analyzing the situation.

A bad feeling crept over me.

Before I could make a move, the stocky man pulled a gun from his jacket. He held it low, hidden from outside view, but enough for me to understand he wasn't joking.

"Not a word, not a move," he murmured, his voice rough and cold as steel.

My breath caught, and cold sweat trickled down my neck.

The taller man moved closer and snatched my phone and bag without a word. I wanted to protest, but my instincts screamed at me not to.

"Everything will be fine if you do as you're told," the stocky man added mechanically, his gaze locked on mine.

My heart pounded so hard it felt like it would explode. One thought echoed in my mind: Where are my damn guards?

I glanced around, desperately searching for any sign that they were there, somewhere. But nothing. No sound, no movement. They'd promised to stay discreet, but were they even here?

A wave of regret washed over me. If only I'd listened to Alessandro… If only I'd stayed home, where it was safe. Why had I insisted on coming to work?

My hand instinctively rested on my belly.

"Move," the stocky man ordered, snapping me out of my thoughts.

They guided me out of the elevator, down a side hallway I'd never taken before. The dim lighting and oppressive silence made every step more unbearable.

We reached a hidden exit, where a black car waited, its tinted windows completely obscuring the interior.

The taller man opened the back door. "Get in," he said curtly.

I froze, my legs refusing to move. "I… I can't," I stammered, my voice trembling.

The stocky man raised his gun slightly, just enough to remind me he wasn't bluffing. "Do as I say, and everything will be fine. Don't make this harder."

Swallowing hard, a tear rolled down my cheek. Only one thought filled my mind: I have to cooperate. For my baby's safety. I can't risk them becoming violent.

Taking a deep breath, I climbed into the back of the car. My hands trembled so badly I had to steady myself against the seat to keep from collapsing.

As the door shut behind me, my mind screamed for help. I knew that, sooner or later, Alessandro would realize I was missing… and I just hoped I'd still be alive when he did.