Bethroted To The Mafia Boss
Chapter 2
Victor’s POV
My world ended nine years ago.
Sometimes I still feel it....the exact moment everything split in two. Before… and after.
Before, I had a family. Friends. Laughter in the house.
It started as a simple land dispute. But it ended with my parents dead… and a third body burnt beyond recognition in the ruins of our home.
I remember standing there as a boy, my fists clenched so tightly my nails cut into my palms. The air smelled like ash and melted metal. Men spoke around me, voices low and cautious, but all I could hear was the roar of the fire replaying in my head.
Till today, no one knows who that third body belonged to.
I’ve spent years searching. Pulling strings. Paying people. Threatening others.
Nothing.
The body was destroyed beyond recognition....as if someone wanted it that way.
After my parents died, my grandfather took me in. He didn’t raise me with bedtime stories or comfort. He raised me with rules, discipline… and truth.
That was when I learned about the family business.
The Mafia.
I still remember the first time he said the word. I felt something inside me crack.... and something darker take its place. From that day on, I stopped being a boy and started becoming the man I am now.
A man with blood on his hands.
A man feared in rooms he hasn’t even entered yet.
A man who learned that mercy is expensive… and weakness gets you buried.
But no matter how powerful I become, one thing hasn’t changed.
My parents’ deaths are still a mystery.
And I will uncover the truth.
That is why I must marry Alice Smith.
The only girl I ever truly loved.
…At least, I did once.
Now? I’m not sure I know what love feels like anymore.
My life is chaos......women, deals, enemies, blood, money. Nothing stays long enough to matter.
Except her.
Alice is one of the few good memories from my childhood. One of the few things untouched by the darkness swallowing my life.
But everything changed the night my house burned.
I can still remember how I felt when I saw her lying unconscious at my gate.
I remember running toward her, my heartbeat slamming against my ribs. I remember dropping to my knees beside her, shaking her shoulders, calling her name. Her skin was cold. Her face streaked with soot.
What was she doing there?
That question has followed me for nine years.
I’ve tried to approach her many times. Tried to start the conversation. Tried to demand answers.
But every single time, I stop.
Because this isn’t a question I can ask without a plan.
And I never move without a plan.
This marriage will give me that chance.
It will put her close enough that she won’t be able to run from the truth.
And yes…
The letter is fake.
My father never arranged any marriage between us.
No promises were written. No agreement was made.
I forged it.
Perfectly.
Because sometimes the only way to uncover the truth…
is to force fate’s hand.
Alice’s voice drifted through the half-open door.
“I'm not going to marry him.”
I stilled in the hallway.
Her father’s voice came sharp and heavy. “You must. A promise is a promise.”
A chair scraped. Footsteps thundered.
The study door burst open and Alice stormed out....straight into me.
She hit my chest with a soft thud.
My hands instinctively caught her arms to steady her.
For a second, neither of us moved.
She looked up.
Mu breath caught.
Nine years… and she was still the girl who could knock the air from my lungs without trying.
Her fingers were still pressed against my chest. I wondered if she could feel how violently my heart was beating.
“Hello, Allie,” I said softly, a crooked smile forming. I added a playful wink, masking the sudden rush of nerves. “Long time.”
Colour flooded her cheeks instantly.
The sight hit me harder than i expected.
God… she still blushes.
“I am not getting married to you,” she snapped, though her voice wavered slightly.
I tilted my head, amused, but there was a faint ache behind my smile.
“Oh, my little Allie,” I murmured, the old nickname slipping out before I could stop it. “You will marry me.”
I watched her closely, searching her face for any sign the name still meant something to her.
“I will never marry you!” she shot back. Her hands clenched at her sides. “You’re promiscuous, wicked, and terrible.”
The words struck.
For a brief moment, something raw flickered in my eyes....hurt, sharp and unexpected.
But i swallowed it, letting a teasing grin replace it.
“Ah… promiscuous?” i echoed lightly, folding my arms. “What made you say that?”
I leaned closer, lowering my voice playfully.
“Have you been stalking me?”
Her eyes widened in outrage.
“That’s not.... I don’t....”
I smiled fully this time, and for a heartbeat she froze, clearly thrown off balance.
Then her expression hardened again. She shoved past me, shoulder brushing mine, and disappeared into a room down the hall. A door slammed.
I exhaled slowly, staring after her.
She still affects me.
I rubbed the back of my neck, forcing myself to focus, then turned and walked into the study.
“Mr. Smith,” i greeted respectfully.
Alice’s father looked up, relief softening his face. “Victor, my boy. How are you?”
“Fine, sir.” i stepped forward, posture straightening, voice turning serious. “I need your help.”
Mr. Smith frowned slightly. “What do you need, my boy?”
I hesitated just long enough to feel the weight of what i was about to say.
Then i met the older man’s eyes.
“I need Alice’s inheritance.”
Silence crashed into the room.
Mr. Smith’s face stiffened.
“What?”
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