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The Mafia Don's Fake Bride

The Mafia Don's Fake Bride

Author: lucky tale
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Chapter 1 Seventy-Two Hours

Word Count: 1149    |    Released on: 12/09/2026

lled like bleach

My apron was still tied around my waist. I had come straight from my shi

Rus

el held a blue clipb

e cardiac ablation - we need to do it within 72 ho

tal didn't

ay, do it

ou first, Elena. Your mother's insurance denied the pre

voice was bar

paper ac

sibility Estim

ore adm

es wen

, cleans offices in Queens. My dad died when I was 12. It's just u

illing window lik

yment plan?" I

ocedure, we need 80% upfront. That's

Monda

crying. The ugly, shaking, can't-breathe kind. Because where d

t was Tony, my man

you. The Moretti party is here. If yo

ce with my sl

where men in $10,000 suits make deals that ruin peopl

room. Four men. All dangerous.

e Mo

estate, clubs, shipping. And other things. The kind of things people whisper about. He was 32, maybe. Black s

staring r

're late,"

hands were shaking. I spilled a

laughed. "Looks like your wa

ching my face. My red eyes. My

r his water, he spoke,

been c

"I'm so

sorry. Tel

order, not

it was the exhaustion. Maybe it was because he was the first pe

umbled out. "She needs surgery. $52,000. I

it. Why was I telling a

His eyes never left mine. The

s your

na R

card from his inner pocket. Thick, black, with only a number em

I have class

s," he said. "I can solve

table was

g to faint. "Mr. Moretti, I'

tanding up. He was so tall. He towered

im. Fear? Hope? That card felt

old. A black Maybach waited at the curb. He

sked, my voice shaking. "I don'

miled. It was small, and

u think I'm buying," he

ked. "

nly if I'm married by the end of this month. The board is trying to push me

wn, not in a dirty way

y the loving, devoted wife. In public, you belong to me. In private, we will never touch. You will never ask about my busin

0,0

upid movie. But my mother's face i

d. "You could have a

d smell his cologne - expensive, dark. "You looked at me tonight like I was the last person on ea

ld see a small scar a

insane,

the card. Come tomorrow. Or don't,

the sidewalk in my cheap waitress shoes, hol

the corner. My phone buzzed a

adline for Maria Rus

ard so tight my kn

row a

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