Mafia's Surrogate Bride

Aria’s POV

"Aria Rossi! Move your ass! We have big clients today. You need to put on that damn bunny costume." Bar owner Enzo's voice echoed in the dressing room.

I stood in front of the mirror, staring at my outfit. The black bodysuit clung to every curve, paired with fishnet stockings that made me feel more exposed than clothed.

"What's the matter?" Enzo appeared behind me, grinning like a shark. "You look like someone stole your favorite teddy bear. This costume barely covers half your ass—that's the whole point! The clients are paying premium prices to see premium goods."

"I'm just... adjusting," I mumbled, tugging at the plunging neckline.

"Adjusting? Honey, you've been 'adjusting' for fifteen minutes. At this rate, our VIP guests will be senile by the time you make your grand entrance." He chuckled at his own joke.

This is my fifteenth day working at this bar.

Fifteen days since my carefully planned life had crumbled to pieces. I was supposed to have a stable job by now—the orphanage's benefactor had paid for my college education, and I'd graduated with honors. I was supposed to be building a respectable career, not parading around in a bunny costume for drunk men's entertainment.

But life had other plans.

Jessica. My heart clenched at the thought of my little sister lying in that hospital bed, her face pale and drawn from the illness ravaging her small body. The expensive medication she needed was beyond the orphanage's meager budget, and they were ready to give up on her treatment. Not my real sister by blood, but she might as well have been. Since the day I'd arrived at Sant'Anna Orphanage, Jessica had been the only one who bothered with me, who stood up to the bullies, who made me feel less alone in the world.

I'd gone to my boyfriend first, desperate for help. Instead, I'd found him in bed with another woman, my belongings already thrown out like garbage. If it weren't for my good friend Sophia providing me with this kind of job, I'm afraid I would have truly lost hope in life.

"Come on, bring out your killer moves," Sophia Marino shouted. Sophia is my best friend. At this moment, she was deliberately tugging at my neckline, making it more revealing. "Stop dragging your feet like you're walking to your own execution."

"Easy for you to say," I shot back, batting her hands away. "You've been doing this for years. I still feel like I'm wearing a Halloween costume someone picked out as a joke."

Sofia laughed, adjusting her own outfit with practiced ease. "Honey, Halloween costumes wish they looked this good. Besides, you've got that whole 'sweet and innocent' thing going for you. Half the men here probably want to corrupt you, and the other half want to protect you."

"Great, so I'm either a damsel in distress or a conquest."

"Welcome to the wonderful world of men," Sofia grinned wickedly. "But hey, at least you're a well-paid damsel in distress. Jessica's medical bills won't pay themselves."

Her words sobered me instantly.

"You're right," I sighed, smoothing down the costume. "I just... I had a plan, you know? Graduate, get a respectable job, build a normal life."

"Normal is overrated," Sofia said, applying lipstick with expert precision. "Besides, your college boyfriend's idea of normal was cheating on you with that blonde bimbo. At least here, the men pay for the privilege of disappointing you."

I couldn't help but laugh despite myself. "You're terrible."

"I'm realistic. There's a difference."

"I heard the Cavalieri brothers will be in the private VIP booth tonight," Sofia continued excitedly, checking her reflection one last time. "Federico, Vito, and of course, Damian will be there too."

"I don't want their attention, Sofia. Men like that... they're dangerous."

"Dangerous men pay the best," she winked. "Besides, you're too innocent for your own good. A little danger might do you some good."

"I'll stick to serving drinks and staying invisible, thank you very much."

The Cavalieri name carried weight in this city—dangerous, powerful weight. Everyone knew about the three sons. Federico, the second son, handled the family's modern criminal operations and money laundering with smooth efficiency. Vito, the youngest, was a playboy who terrorized the city with his violent tendencies, managing the family's traditional "protection" rackets and dirty work.

And then there was Damian.

Heat flooded my cheeks just thinking about him. Damian Cavalieri was the most powerful and dangerously attractive man in the city. His appeal wasn't just physical, it was the absolute authority he wielded. As the designated heir to the Cavalieri empire, he was untouchable, unreachable.

All the girls were simultaneously drawn to and terrified of Damian. They craved his attention while knowing how dangerous it would be to actually get it. I, on the other hand, just wanted to stay invisible, to do my job and collect my pay without drawing any unwanted notice from men who could destroy lives with a snap of their fingers.

A commotion at the entrance interrupted my thoughts.

"They're here," Sofia whispered urgently.

I saw them immediately—three men in perfectly tailored suits that probably cost more than most people made in a year.

These weren't just wealthy businessmen—they carried themselves with the confidence of men who'd never been told no, who'd never faced consequences for their actions.

Damian walked past Sofia and Carla without a glance. Then, impossibly, he began walking directly toward me.

No, no, no. My heart hammered against my ribs as his footsteps brought him closer. I couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't do anything but stand frozen as he stopped directly in front of me.

I immediately dropped my gaze to my feet, unable to meet those penetrating dark eyes. The silence stretched between us.

Then I heard it—a low, amused chuckle.

"Still haven't learned to look me in the eyes?"

Those words, spoken in that deep, commanding voice, made my legs go weak. There was something familiar about the way he said it, something that triggered a memory I'd been trying to forget.

Half a month ago. The night when desperation and grief over Jessica's condition had driven me to drink too much. The night I'd made the biggest mistake of my life and ended up in bed with a stranger.

Kneeling beside his legs, his strong hand gripping my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze as he commanded me to look at him, over and over again.

The memory crashed over me like a wave—

Oh God. It was him.

I pressed my thighs together involuntarily, trying to suppress the sudden, unwelcome surge of desire.

The most dangerous man in the city. And I'd spent the most intimate night of my life surrendering completely to him.

Damian's dark eyes seemed to drink in my reaction, a knowing smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. He took a step closer, and I caught a hint of his cologne.

"Interesting," he murmured, his voice low and dangerous. "You remember now, don't you, piccola?"

His Italian endearment made my knees weak.

It reminds me of his fingers tangled in my hair. The way he'd made me beg...