The Mafia Heir’s Regret: He Kept Her Nameless for Six Years

Sorenna's POV

By day, I was the ruthless Director of Finance working under mafia heir Silvan. By night, I was the secret lover he kept locked away in a guest room.

He gave me luxury cars, a mansion, and endless money, but never a title. I thought he was protecting me—until he packaged both the title of his official wife and my position as CFO, handing them over to Aurea Moretti, a prominent mafia heiress.

And that arrogant man? He casually tossed me a diamond ring like a handout to pacify me. "Titles are just an illusion. Even if I marry someone else, you’ll always be the woman I care about most."

He even had the audacity to offer me a seaside villa, thinking he could keep me forever as his underground mistress in another city.

Looking at his cold, entitled eyes, I finally smiled.

On the day of his engagement to the mafia heiress, I took off the ring and vanished from this city completely.

——

His scent still lingered in the air—sweat, cedarwood body wash, and a hint of whiskey. The sheets were rumpled, my legs still trembling. Five minutes ago, he had pinned me to this bed, groaning my name over and over, low and slow, as if chewing the words before swallowing them. He always had that skill: making me believe, beneath him, that I was loved.

As the shower started running, my phone lit up.

"Mom."

I pulled the blanket up and answered.

"Sorenna, I went to the docks today. The sea breeze was strong enough to blow someone over, but your father insisted on standing outside smoking a cigar. Sixty years old and still acts like he's twenty-five."

I murmured in agreement, listening to her jump from cigars to the new chef, to how I lost a shoe on the beach in Lira City when I was seven and cried until someone went into the water to get it.

After rambling for ten minutes, she stopped.

"That man still hasn't given you a title?"

I didn't answer.

"Sorenna, I won’t deny he’s charming. I’ve seen his photos; men like that are born to make women fall hard."

"But there’s one thing I don’t understand. It’s been six years. If he really cared, why won't he make you public?"

"He's protecting me," I said. "He has too many enemies. If he exposes me, I'd be the first to take a bullet."

"Is that so?" she chuckled. "Let me ask you this: will he marry you?"

"...We're talking about it."

"I'll make a bet with you," her voice lowered. "Go ask him. If he still refuses to acknowledge you, disappear from his sight. Come back to Lira City. And you’ll have nothing more to do with the Voss family."

I paused for three seconds.

"Okay."

The call ended. The room was so quiet I could hear the AC blowing. A chill seeped in from all sides.

The bathroom door opened.

Silvan walked out, hair still wet, a bathrobe tied loosely around his waist. The red scratches on his chest were from me, half an hour ago.

He sat beside me, saw me staring blankly at my phone, and reached out to touch my face.

"Your mom interrogating you again?"

I turned to look at him. I had to admit, he was ridiculously handsome.

I took his outstretched hand.

"She asked when we're getting married."

"What did you say?"

"I said we're both busy, that we’ll wait a bit." I smiled. "But I've thought about it. When we do, I want it by the sea. Just a few people. I don't like the grand spectacles. I just want—"

"Sorenna."

He cut me off. He was smiling, but his eyes were completely cold.

"If you don't want to do this anymore, you can leave anytime."

I looked at him for a long time. My heart was strangely calm.

In the past, if he said that, I would blow up.

I’d remind him that he chased me first, that I was his legitimate girlfriend, not something he could throw away.

Then he’d immediately soften, say sweet things, and hold me until dawn.

Back then, I was proud, but it always ended with me crying, begging him never to say that again.

Now, I couldn't muster any anger. Just a deep, heavy ache.

He suddenly leaned in, his thumb lightly brushing the corner of my eye.

"Why are you crying?"

"I'll take you jewelry shopping tomorrow. That place just got a new batch of colored diamonds. Yellow looks good on you."

"Titles are illusions, Sorenna. Why fuss over an illusion?"

I touched my face, realizing the tears had already fallen.

This wasn't the first time I had tested him.

But it would be the last.

His answer hadn't changed by a single word.

I had even made up suitors before.

I told him a guy downstairs brought me coffee every day, that a client's son asked for my personal number. He just laughed: "Let him bring it. Tell me his name when he's done."

He never got jealous.

To him, those men didn't deserve to stand next to him. He was certain I wouldn't leave.

He knew nothing of what I shielded him from over these six years.

At the year-end gala, Nina asked me in front of half the finance department: "Did you get the CFO position with your spreadsheets, or with something else?"

Someone taped an embarrassing photo of my ID badge on the mirror in the women's restroom with the words: Rich man's toy.

A board member's assistantcornered me in the parking garage, saying that once Silvan married, I wouldn't even be allowed in the building.

I never told him.

I was afraid he’d think I was forcing him to take a stand.

At 3 a.m., he was fast asleep.

I put on a coat, walked out to the balcony, and dialled my mother's number.

"Mom."

"I lost the bet."

Silence on the other end.

"When are you coming back?"

"As soon as I sort out my paperwork, I'm leaving."