Reborn as the Mafia's Bride

Chapter 5: A Partner in a Mutually Beneficial Arrangement

Brielle stepped back, her heart racing. She had never been one to back down from a challenge, but this man was different. His dark laughter echoed in her ears, a mix of danger and allure.

Unconsciously, she touched her lips where his had made contact. It made her heart skip a beat. It scared her.

Brielle made up her mind to stay away from him; he might be a hurdle in her plan.

As if reading her mind, Enzo pinched her chin and lifted her head so she could stare up at him. He inquired, "What is your next plan now, Brielle Ricci?"

"I don't know what you are talking about. What plans?" She narrowed her eyes at him. "You think this is a game? You don't know me."

Enzo leaned closer, his smirk widening. "Oh, I think I'm starting to get a sense of who you are-defiant, unyielding, and perhaps a bit reckless."

"Reckless? That's rich, coming from you," she shot back, crossing her arms defiantly.

Franco, still watching the exchange with a mix of amusement and concern, cleared his throat. "Um, should we proceed with the paperwork, or...?"

"Yes," Enzo replied, his gaze never leaving Brielle. "Let's get this over with."

As they moved toward the desk, Brielle felt a mixture of excitement and apprehension. The seriousness of the situation was beginning to sink in. She was about to marry a man she barely knew-one who was rumored to be ruthless. But there was something about him that intrigued her, a spark of chaos that matched her own.

Once seated at the desk, Larry shuffled through the paperwork, his hands shaking slightly. "Just sign here, and you'll be officially married."

Brielle hesitated, glancing at Enzo. He seemed unfazed, his confidence radiating.

"Do you really want this?" she asked quietly.

He met her gaze, his expression serious for a moment. "I need this. And you... you need a way out of your current situation."

"Is that what I am to you? A means to an end?" Brielle challenged.

"A partner in a mutually beneficial arrangement," he corrected, his tone steely.

With a deep breath, she picked up the pen and signed her name, using the memory of the original win. The weight of the moment settled in as she watched Enzo do the same. He acted as composed as ever; she watched him with fascination.

"Congratulations," Larry announced, his voice barely above a whisper. "You're officially married."

Brielle felt a rush of emotions-fear, excitement, confusion. She was now tied to Enzo Ricci, a man of power and secrets. One step away from getting her revenge. From what she had eavesdropped, she could tell that he was part of an organization.

Probably the same organization for which James killed her for a promotion. If she got closer to him, she might be able to infiltrate it. In order to play the role, Brielle dropped her arrogance.

"Now what?" she asked, looking up at him.

Enzo leaned back in his chair, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Now, we play by my rules."

Outside the Bureau, the air was thick with tension. Enzo lit another cigarette, the smoke curling around them like a shroud. "We need to discuss our next steps."

"Next steps?" Brielle echoed, crossing her arms. She knew that he needed a wife but had no idea why. "What do you want from me?"

He exhaled slowly, considering his words. "I need you to act like my wife in public. We need to convince people that this marriage is real." His words were cold, as if they were talking about work.

"And what do you get out of this?" she pressed, trying to squeeze more information out of him. She truly had no idea who this man was, although his name sounded familiar.

"Protection. My father has enemies, and I have my own. With you by my side, I can deflect some of that attention."

Brielle raised an eyebrow, defiant. "And you think I'm just going to agree to be your shield?"

Of course, Brielle did not buy this reason. She knew it was something more than what he portrayed. Men of power needed women by their side for one reason: more power.

"Why not? You have your own reasons for wanting this," he replied, his voice smooth.

Although caught off guard, Brielle kept her poker face. It was too early for her to reveal her plans to this stranger. He might thwart them.

"Fine. Send me the address of your house. I have something to clean up first."

"Don't die on me, wife," he teased, playing with the French cigarette between his fingers. For some strange reason, he really did not want to see this girl dead.

Brielle shrugged nonchalantly. "Been there, done that. I am not afraid."

Getting into a cab, she gave an address, and the driver rode to it. Enzo was left with a tail of smoke. He turned to Franco and implored, "What did you find out about my wife?"

Bringing out a blue file from the back of Enzo's BMW, Franco returned with the file. He scampered through the pages, reading out the important details. "Everything she said is true, although she left out the part about being a runaway bride from Richard Swift this morning. She is also an awful student in her class and has repeated the class two times in a row."

"Okay," he replied, a complicated look in his eyes.

___

Upon arrival at her destination, Brielle paid the driver with cash from her purse. The wad of cash left was less than five hundred dollars; for someone who was a spendthrift, this money would not last two days.

Plus, depending on her new husband was the last thing on her mind. Brielle surveyed the area with caution, taking her steps carefully.

Nostalgia rolled into her stomach like dough when she passed through the fence into the place. The memory of her demise was still fresh in her mind.

Although it had rained cats and dogs last night, Brielle could still smell the scent of death and firearms in the air.

It was very intoxicating. Brielle found it hard to come to terms with her death. She strolled at the scene of her death, feeling anger bubbling inside of her.

"So, it is true. I am dead after all," she sniffed, feeling the back of her throat sting. No matter how emotional she got, even though it was rare, Diana could not bring herself to cry.

However, the previous owner, Brielle, was a crybaby, so tears filled her eyes as if they were a swimming pool. Brielle felt disgusted by her blurry vision and blinked the tears away.

Now, she could have a better look at the scene. Blood and flesh marred the earth, probably from the grenade James shot. At the mere thought of this, her body trembled with restrained rage, like a pot about to boil over.

As she surveyed the area, Brielle spotted a shiny object on the ground, the sun reflecting on it. She walked toward it, crouched, and picked it up.

"A ring?" she frowned. Brielle hurled her arms to throw it when she caught sight of the engraving on it. "ER," she murmured, the letters engraved inside the ring.

From her knowledge of jewels, Brielle could tell the centerpiece of the ring was a rare ruby, which could be found at the deepest depths of a volcano. Only ultra-wealthy people could own such jewelry.

"Hmm, interesting." She studied the jewelry with fascination, taking notes of every design on it. She continued to herself, "This might be my first step to find Winifred. I need to find out who she is."

The next moment, the phone in her purse started to ring. Brielle answered the call, her eyes wandering at the strange number. "Wife," the deep voice called out.

"Yes," she replied coldly.

"You have to be at home by seven. I can't show a ghost to my business partners," he went on, in his professional voice as if she were his employee.

Upon hearing this, Brielle let out a bitter laugh. "Don't worry, I am not dead yet."

"Good," his sultry voice responded.

Suddenly, feeling lighter than she was before, Brielle teased, "Why are you so keen on keeping me alive? I hope you don't get attached because I am addictive."

To her surprise, his cold and dark laughter filtered out of the speakers of the phone like music in her ears. "Bold of you to assume that I am not already addicted."