The Mafia King's Substitute Bride

The sun was barely rising when I was jolted awake by the sound of hurried footsteps echoing down the hallway. The soft light of dawn filtered through the curtains, casting a pale glow over my room. For a moment, I lay still, listening, my heart pounding in my chest. Something wasn't right.

I slipped out of bed, my bare feet padding quietly across the cool marble floor as I moved toward the door. The voices in the hallway grew louder, more frantic. I recognized them immediately-my father's deep, commanding tone, laced with anger, and the strained, nervous replies of the servants.

I cracked the door open just enough to peer out. The corridor was a flurry of activity. Two of the maids were speaking in hushed whispers, their expressions anxious. My father stood at the end of the hallway, his face ashen, barking orders at anyone within earshot.

"Find her!" he shouted, his voice reverberating off the walls. "I want every inch of this house searched and Alecia brought to me! Go! Find her, she couldn't have gone far!"

Find Alecia?

It took my mind a few seconds to comprehend what was happening- perhaps because of the sleep, but once I understood my blood ran cold. I felt the seed of doubt that had been planted in my mind the night before blossom.

Alecia...Alecia had indeed pulled a crazy stunt, just like when our father wanted her to become valedictorian.

'Oh God,' Dread settled in the pit of my stomach along with the thought.

She was gone. Alecia was gone.

Pulling myself out of my thoughts, I pulled the door open fully and stepped into the hallway, the maids falling silent as they noticed me. My father turned his gaze in my direction, his expression a storm of fury and fear.

"Papa, what's going on?" I asked, though I already knew the answer.

"She's gone," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "Your sister has run away."

My heart sank. I had hoped, despite the obvious signs, that she hadn't done so. Another wishful thinking on my path.

"When did she leave?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

"During the night, sometime after midnight," he replied, his tone clipped. "Her room was empty when the maids went to wake her this morning. They found this."

He held up a small piece of paper, crumpled from where he had been clutching it in his fist. I stepped closer, my stomach churning as I took the note from him.

The handwriting was unmistakably Alecia's, the letters scrawled hastily across the page.

[I won't be a pawn or bargaining chip in anyone's game. Don't bother looking for me. I'm gone.]

That was it. No explanations, no apologies. Just a terse declaration of her departure. I felt a wave of anger and hurt crash over me. How could she do this? How could she leave us to face the consequences of her actions alone?

Did she always have to be selfish at the wrong time?

Sure, guaranteed, the thought of marrying someone as dangerous as Luca was scary, petrifying even, but so was the thought of letting your family face the brunt of his wrath, all because what...she was too scared to step up and do one simple job? Because she had an unknown boyfriend she saw future with?

Whichever one of the two it was, I found it highly disappointing.

Thankfully, my father's voice cut through my thoughts before I could get any more angrier at Alecia.

"She's thrown everything away, Valentina. Everything we've built, everything we've worked for-gone." His voice was cold, laced with an edge of desperation that I had never heard before.

I glanced between the note and my father for a few seconds. As much as I would love to dwell on Alecia's stupidity and the fact that she had just put our entire family in jeopardy, I knew doing that wouldn't provide any form of solution.

"What are we going to do?" I asked after a heartbeat.

My father didn't respond immediately. Instead, he began pacing the hallway, his brow furrowed in deep thought. I could see the tension in his posture, the weight of the decision he knew he had to make.

Finally, he stopped and turned to face me, his expression unreadable. "We have no choice," he said slowly, each word measured and deliberate. "The marriage contract was drawn up in Alecia's name, but the Carusos don't care about that. All he cares about is securing the money we owe him, or better yet, getting a reassurance that the money we owe him would be paid back."

He stared right at me as he added. "We must honor the deal."

For a few seconds, it felt like his words were spoken in a foreign language, like I couldn't understand the meaning behind them. But the moment the meaning of his words became clear to me, a pit opened up in my stomach and I swallow thickly.

"You're going to send me instead," I spoke reality, rather than asking a question.

My father's eyes met mine, and for a moment, I saw something close to regret flicker in his gaze. But it was gone as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by the stern resolve of a man who had made up his mind.

"There's no other way, Valentina," he said, his tone softer now but no less determined. "At the moment, I don't even have half of the money and Luca Caruso is not a man to cross. If we don't honor our end of the bargain, he will destroy us."

Of course he would. That shit wasn't up for debate. I had seen times without number, when his name would be written in the news, displaying the gory violence caused by him, the feared mafia king with no face to his name.

His reputation was already brutal enough for me to even think of doubting my father's words. And for that, the anger I felt for Alecia simmered down, diluted a bit with understanding.

No one would want to marry a criminal man, most definitely in his late fifties with residing hairline and pot like belly. Yet, here I, listening to my father as he suggested I do so.

"Papa," I began, hesitantly so. "You know I can't do that...I have a Fiance, we've-"

Whatever light had been in my father's eyes turned cold at the mention of Macro. It was obvious he wasn't taking the fact that both his daughter using their relationship as excuses, lightly.

"So what?" He advanced towards me, glaring. "You're going to abandon your family, just like Alecia, over some boy."

I took a few steps back. "Papa-"

"Don't forget Valentina, this family isn't just me and you, your mother's there, in the hospital! She's part of the reason why I'm in so much debt and you are the reason why she's in that condition!"

My heart clenched at his words. Whoever said the truth is painful, was right. Because no matter how many times I've heard this, I couldn't myself from believing that if I hadn't carelessly played in the center of the road as a child, then my mother wouldn't have had any need to get hit by a car and end up in a coma.

He was right in a way; I put my mother in that situation and I knew one of these days, I'd pay the price for it. But I had never imagined this. Never imagined that I would be offered up like some kind of sacrificial lamb, in place of the sister who had always been deemed more valuable.

"Don't be selfish, Valentina, be of use to this family for once."

I shook my head. "Not in this way, Papa."

My words caused him to stop walking, talking and he just stared blankly at me for a few seconds. The next words he said, we're ones I never expected to hear.

"You either go in your sister's place or I swear Valentina, I will call the hospital and tell them to disconnect your mother."

My eyes fluttered in disbelief. "What?"

"If this family is going to go down because of your stupidity, I'll make sure to drag her down with me. So we can be a complete family."

My stupidity? Shaking my head, I backed into my room and shut the door, not bothering to lock it because I knew my father wouldn't bother opening it.

This wasn't my fault, it was Alecia's! She was the one who decided to be so foolish and run away, so why was I being blamed? Why was everything falling on my head?

My breathing became labored as anger set in and I tried everything in my power not to scream or kick things. Rather, I located my phone and dialed Alecia's number.

It rang once, twice and thrice, before going directly to voice mail. I tried calling again and this time, the line was busied.

Tears of frustration pooled in my eyes and I knew then and there that I needed a source of peace and Marco seemed like the perfect option.

I called him instantly, but was met with the same fate. My frustration doubled and then and there, I was about to throw my phone against the wall, when I received a text message from him.

In seconds, my frustration seemed to lessen down. But the relief was short lived, because the moment I opened his text message, I felt like the floor had been strip away from my feet.

In the message that I had expected to find comfort in, we're words I didn't ever to see, yet feared.

[I've found someone I truly love. Let's break up Valentina.]