My Mafia Boyfriend Married His True Love

On the 999th time Gabriel and I got a hotel room together, he was still utterly, recklessly wild.

The next morning, my whole body was covered in hickeys. Every tiny movement made my waist and back ache like my bones had snapped. The room still smelled thick with sex.

Gabriel reached over and pulled me into his arms, his fingertips sliding lazily down my back as he said, "Tomorrow, dress a little more formal. Come home with me."

I froze, my heart catching like someone had just lit a match there. I lifted my head and asked, "Are you... going to make our relationship official?"

He arched a brow, amusement flickering in his eyes. "What? Tomorrow's the family sit-down. My arranged match is coming. Capos from both sides will be there. You come over to help warm up the room, keep the girl from feeling awkward."

I could barely hear my own heartbeat; my head went completely blank with a dull buzz. "You agree to the family alliance marriage? Then what am I?"

He was already getting up to get dressed, giving me a lazy look. "You? My Consigliere? Or my mistress?"

A chill shot from the soles of my feet all the way to the crown of my head. I could feel the blood draining from my face, my lips trembling out of my control.

He saw my expression, the smile slowly fading from his face as he leaned in, studying me like I was a joke. "No way, Serena. You didn't really think we've been in a relationship all these years, did you?"

That teasing tone stabbed straight through my heart like a knife. I forced down the sting in my nose, tried to keep my voice steady. "O-of course not. I'm going to take a shower."

I practically fled into the bathroom. The second the door clicked shut, all the strength drained out of my body. I slid slowly down against the door and sat on the floor. His words kept echoing in my ears. I looked down at the dense scatter of hickeys all over my skin, and the tears spilled over in a stream I couldn't stop.

We've known each other for fifteen years. From the first time I saw him, I fell for him so hard I lost control. Just to get close to him, I ignored everyone's objections and joined the Celeste family, clawing my way up from the very bottom all the way to Consigliere—just so I could stay by his side day and night.

The first time we slept together was when I was eighteen, drunk out of my mind.

Once there was a first time, there was a second, and a third.

At night we were like lovers; in the daytime we did everything lovers were supposed to do too—holding hands in crowded streets, kissing at the New Year countdown, promising we'd still be together the year after.

I always thought we were just "not public yet."

Now I finally realized—there was never a "we" at all.

I don't know how long I stayed there before the shower washed my tears clean. Bracing one hand on the sink, I forced my breathing to even out, then walked out.

He'd already changed and was sitting on the couch on the phone. "There'll be a lot of people tomorrow. Book a bigger private room at the restaurant. The girl likes simple Italian. The cake must be Black Forest, flowers should be pink and white roses. Send me photos once the place is set up. And prepare a dozen suits for me to choose from when I get back—make them all black. Amelie only likes that color."

Those two syllables—Amelie—hooked into my throat like a barb.

I looked up on instinct and caught the smile tugging uncontrollably at the corner of his mouth.

So, his arranged match... was Amelie.

No wonder even someone like him would agree to it.

It wasn't that he wanted an arranged marriage—

He just wanted to have her in the rest of life.