
The Hundredth Choice: Claiming the Mob Boss
Agatha Christie · Completed · 7.0k Words
Introduction
That was how many times Bianca used me to test her mob-boss fiancé.
Ever since I was brought back to the family, the fake heiress tried to prove that Roman Falcone would always choose her over me, the real daughter.
She locked Roman and me in the same room. She passed his expensive gifts right to me. She even made me wear the exact same dress as her to see who he would look at first.
Every single time, she would cry and say, "Vittoria is the real Rossi. She should be your bride. I'm just a fake."
And every single time, Roman chose her.
Used to getting her way, Bianca pushed things even further.
At the mafia's biggest annual gathering, right in front of hundreds of bosses, she demanded a public proposal.
But when the moment came, she pulled her usual trick. She refused the ring, cried that she wasn't good enough, and booked a night flight to Paris.
"Roman, she should be your wife," she cried before running off.
She expected him to drop everything and chase her. Just like always.
But this time, Roman didn't run after her.
He just stood there. Surrounded by the mocking stares of rival bosses and his own cousins waiting for a joke, he wearily rubbed his temples.
When he finally looked up, his dark eyes bypassed the empty doors and locked straight onto me.
"Vittoria," his voice cut through the silence. "Do you want to marry me?"
Chapter 1
Ninety-nine times.
That was how many times Bianca used me to test her mob-boss fiancé.
Ever since I was brought back to the family, the fake heiress tried to prove that Roman Falcone would always choose her over me, the real daughter.
She locked Roman and me in the same room. She passed his expensive gifts right to me. She even made me wear the exact same dress as her to see who he would look at first.
Every single time, she would cry and say, "Vittoria is the real Rossi. She should be your bride. I'm just a fake."
And every single time, Roman chose her.
Used to getting her way, Bianca pushed things even further.
At the mafia's biggest annual gathering, right in front of hundreds of bosses, she demanded a public proposal.
But when the moment came, she pulled her usual trick. She refused the ring, cried that she wasn't good enough, and booked a night flight to Paris.
"Roman, she should be your wife," she cried before running off.
She expected him to drop everything and chase her. Just like always.
But this time, Roman didn't run after her.
He just stood there. Surrounded by the mocking stares of rival bosses and his own cousins waiting for a joke, he wearily rubbed his temples.
When he finally looked up, his dark eyes bypassed the empty doors and locked straight onto me.
"Vittoria," his voice cut through the silence. "Do you want to marry me?"
Vittoria
I smiled and let him slip the ten-carat pink diamond onto my finger.
The very ring meant for Bianca. Amidst the rough cheers of the capos and the calculating blessings of the family elders, I officially became Roman Falcone's fiancée.
Once the last of the guests cleared out, the private VIP lounge fell dead silent.
Roman stared at his encrypted phone. The screen was flooded with missed calls and unread messages. He let out a harsh breath and rubbed his temples.
"Vittoria, I apologize for tonight," he said, his voice flat. "If you find someone else down the line, let me know. I'll handle the annulment."
"The Falcone family will make sure you're well compensated. But until then, I need you by my side for a few appearances. I'm sorry to drag you into this mess."
Bianca's dramatic stunts had made a fool out of Roman too many times. The Falcone elders were already losing their patience.
If I hadn't stepped in tonight, Roman and his syndicate would have become the ultimate laughingstock of the underworld.
I gave him a gentle, understanding nod.
"It's fine. I'll play the part of the perfect fiancée until my sister comes back."
"Don't be too hard on her. She's just insecure. Once she returns, I'll gladly step aside."
"Until then, you have my full support."
Roman's jaw visibly tightened at the mention of his runaway bride. But when he looked back at me, his cold gaze softened a fraction.
He pulled out his phone again. A second later, mine buzzed. He had just wired thirty million dollars into my offshore account as a down payment.
"If your parents hear anything from Bianca, tell me immediately."
I gave him an obedient, worried nod.
But the second he turned his back, I took out my phone and deleted the location pin Bianca had sent me just hours ago.
She was playing her usual game. She expected me to leak her hiding spot so Roman would drop his empire to chase her across the world.
But I was the future Mrs. Falcone now. Did she really expect me to spit out the power I had just tasted?
In her dreams.
Later that night, my driver took me back to the Rossi estate.
My parents, Aldo and Silvana, were pacing the living room, frantically dialing Bianca's number.
When they saw me walk in, they stopped. Their eyes held a suffocating mix of guilt and sheer resentment.
"Vittoria..." Aldo muttered, nervously twisting his gold ring. "Bianca and Roman grew up together. They love each other. This engagement tonight is just a temporary fix."
"Bianca is kind-hearted. She's willing to give this title back to you, but you need to remember she owes you nothing," Silvana quickly added, her tone sharp.
Silvana had allowed a fake to take my place for twenty years. She let Bianca live as a pampered mafia princess while I fought to survive in the slums. Yet my own biological parents dared to look me in the eye and say she owed me nothing.
The blatant favoritism was sickening.
Still, I didn't let my anger show. I just smiled lightly.
"I know. Don't worry, Mom, Dad."
"Bianca embarrassed Roman in front of the entire underworld tonight. The Falcone elders were definitely going to demand blood. I only agreed to marry him to protect her."
I looked at them with earnest, innocent eyes.
"I'll appease Roman's family and smooth things over for her. When she returns, I'll step right back into my own place."
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