The Mafia's Arranged Bride

Chapter-1First Night

Gianna

2 years later

I stood in front of the mirror, barely recognizing the woman staring back. My eyes were tired. My jaw ached from smiling all day. Just a few hours ago, I got married to Nicholas Baldocchi.

The wedding had been a spectacle—like something out of a dream. The perfect venue, the most perfect dress and a guest list boasting Italy’s most powerful. Leonardo and Xavier, my brothers, had spared no expense. But beneath all the sparkle, the truth remained: this marriage was a lie.

The bedroom door opened, and I stiffened as Nico stepped inside. My heart leapt to my throat the moment our eyes met in the mirror.

Holy. f*****g. Hell.

He looked like sin in human form. The top buttons of his white shirt were undone, giving me a glimpse of the tattoos that curled along his chest. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing strong forearms inked in dark, sharp lines. His hair was tousled, his expression unreadable. He looked a little drunk and devastatingly sexy.

Nico Baldocchi was going to be the death of me.

I turned as he came closer, his presence overpowering. Even at 5’7, I felt small next to him. His eyes scanned my face, searching—but for what, I didn’t know.

“This is a beautiful dress,” he said finally, his voice low and rich. “And you look beautiful too.”

“Th-thank you,” I murmured, voice barely above a whisper. He stepped closer, his gaze pinning me in place. I was already a mess, and he hadn’t even touched me.

“Thank you for not walking away,” he added, more softly this time. “Regardless of... everything.”

“It was necessary. For our families," I answered.

"Hmm..."

His eyes dropped to my lips for just a moment, and my breath caught. Then he reached out, brushing a loose strand of hair from my cheek. His fingers barely grazed my skin, but it was enough to make my whole body light up.

“You’re my wife now, Gianna,” he said. “Everything I have is yours. Including my body. If you want it.”

His body, but not his heart. I looked away, but he gently lifted my chin again, forcing me to meet his eyes. And then—he kissed me.

It was fire and fury, a kiss that left no room to think. His hands gripped my waist, pulling me flush against him, pinning me to the mirror. His heat wrapped around me, his scent clouding my senses as his lips moved to my neck, slow and hot, his breath warm against my skin. A tremor ran through me as his teeth grazed my shoulder, followed by the soft stroke of his tongue. I couldn’t stop the moan that escaped my lips.

“Nico...” It was a broken sound, barely audible.

“Tell me what you want,” he whispered. “The choice is yours.”

My head spun. I could barely speak. I wanted him desperately. I hadn’t let another man touch me in two years since we were engaged. Every fantasy, every lonely night had been about him. But yet I didn’t want just his body. I wanted him. All of him.

“Nico...I want you,” I breathed. “But…”

He stilled. “But?”

“I want you to want me. Not out of obligation. Not because I’m your wife on paper. I want your heart, Nico... not just your body.” Silence stretched between us.

“Gianna…” he began, but I shook my head and pressed a finger to his lips.

“I want more,” I said, barely holding it together. “I know you don’t love me, and that’s your truth. But this is mine.”

For a moment, something flickered in his eyes—guilt? Pain? Maybe even regret. But just as quickly, it vanished. The cold mask returned.

“You knew what this was, Gianna,” he said. “Nothing has changed. She’s still there. In my heart. In my past. I thought time would bury it, but it hasn’t. And I won’t lie to you and pretend it’s changed. This...is all I can give you." I nodded, my throat feeling choked.

“I hear you,” I whispered. “But that doesn’t...doesn't change my truth. I never expected you to love me overnight, Nico. But I hoped... maybe, with time.” I paused, swallowing the lump in my throat. “Now I know better.” Nico’s jaw clenched. He looked away for a long moment, silent.

“I wish I could be the man you deserve," Nico breathed, his voice strained. “But I’m not. And I won’t pretend otherwise.” He exhaled slowly.

“I’ll take the couch,” he said after a beat. “We leave early tomorrow."

“I’ll be ready,” I whispered.

Nico looked up at me, just for a second, before turning on his heels and heading for the door. My lips trembled as I fought the tears, waiting for him to walk out and close the door, so I could let it all out. And just when he reached the door, Nico paused for a moment and slightly turned his head.

“Good night, Gianna,” he murmured. “And... welcome to my life.”

The door shut behind him.

Tears trickled down my cheeks. This wasn’t how I imagined my wedding night. I had spent the last two years hoping, clinging to the idea that maybe something would change. But I was wrong. Nothing was ever changing.

I wiped my cheeks with trembling hands and stared at my reflection in the mirror. Mascara streaked my face. My lipstick was smeared.

“Pull yourself together,” I whispered to the broken girl staring back. Because tomorrow, I will wake up as Gianna Baldocchi.

And I’d learn to survive this marriage...with or without his heart.