Trapped By The Mafia King's Secret Obsession

Cece POV

I stared at the harsh glow of my burner phone.

Gianna leaned over my shoulder, her perfectly manicured eyebrows shooting up. "Why is a man who deals in absolutes inviting you for a second meeting? Is he actually interested in you?"

I shook my head immediately. "I'm keeping a strictly professional boundary. He doesn't even know who I really am."

"Just go," Gianna ordered. "He only values strategic alliances and territory. He probably just wants to finalize the terms for the East Side operations. Don't mess this up."

She stood and left, her guards trailing close behind.

I sat alone in the thick silence that descended—not empty, but heavy, muffling the distant city sounds until all I could hear was the faint hum of the ventilation. I thought of how mercilessly Felix had rejected girls at the academy. He'd never given anyone a second glance. I resolved to bury my foolish feelings forever. Survive the job, take the money, pay off my father's debt.

I typed a brief confirmation to Felix, then switched to my personal phone and contacted the owner of a local speakeasy. I needed to pick up my underground singing shift tonight. I needed the extra cash.

Hours later, I stood in the cramped dressing room of the mafia-owned bar, changing into a dark, shimmering dress that caught the low light. I walked out onto the small stage, the air thick with cigarette smoke and the low rumble of dangerous men.

I grabbed the vintage microphone—and that's when I saw him.

Felix Falcone was sitting in a dimly lit VIP booth right at the edge of the low stage.

I pressed a hand to my breastbone, as if to quiet the frantic motion within, but the thin silk of my dress offered no anchor against the violent thudding beneath. Forcing myself to look away, I signaled the band and started singing—a slow, haunting song about hidden love.

I kept my eyes on the far back wall, but in my periphery I could see his Capos and soldiers gathered around him, drinking heavily and laughing. During the quiet instrumental break, their voices carried clearly over the ambient noise.

"Come on, Boss," one of his Capos teased. "Are you still looking for that legendary academy obsession of yours?"

"Personal interests are a separate matter from business," Felix replied, his voice cutting through the smoky air, low and absolute.

His men went quiet. One of them nervously cleared his throat. "What about the impending arranged marriage to the Capo's daughter? You just met with her today."

Felix took a slow sip of his drink. "The alliance will be honored. That doesn't mean my attention can't be… divided."

My voice trembled. I missed a note entirely.

The band smoothly covered my mistake, but my hands were shaking so badly I gripped the microphone stand with both hands to keep it steady. His men pressed for details, visibly confused.

"In the Famiglia, whether you like your bride or not is irrelevant," Felix stated flatly. "The marriage is a tool. Nothing more."

I closed my eyes, feeling the insurmountable distance yawn between my fragile civilian life and the lethal machinery of his.