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The Mafia Heir's Contract Wife

The Mafia Heir's Contract Wife

Author: MXian Writes
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Chapter 1 | 1 | Birthday Girl's Dead...Inside

Word Count: 3870    |    Released on: 29/02/2024

GHTS R

T © 2024

SCLA

ogues and events in this

tent not intended for young readers. Unauthorized reproduction of any

CHARA

phine "Seph

years

ist and col

"Doni" / "Dom" D

years

is father'

er CEO of a bankru

pte

••••••

A P H

a ki

someone l

d Sephie

ment I accepted the money. Gratefully. The biggest payment I've ever gotten sin

trangers. Lingerie photos. Videos. Explicit

subscribers. But I'm getting there. It'

rnet whore among my immigrant family's mostly working cla

on't j

d say. Well, ex-best friend. I doubt he'd approve of the

ank. Well, preferably more than one. Obviously I

money out of sad, lonely

file's withdrawable balance. A total of 2,012 b

got quite a dis

fan of cheap lingerie and crochet bikinis for paying this much for

elling my thirst-trapping photos? A wh

a gut feel about my dire need of real cash. No

and glittery, balloons-all-over birthda

le and look happy for the big, dark and gooey-looking Brigadeiro cake staring back a

ame as yesterday. The country club looks chill

y trimmed grass. Mostly old-school Italian busines

g-timer like the people who frequent this place.

y cake and bouquet. The man's the cool and rich godfather I wish I

ld wristwatch. Time for my first break. I log o

"Hey. I'll be back in 15." I back away from the rece

er than me and part Russian, but also fluent in Italian. Alina's bleach

the lobby. I don't have any real friends here, which is m

ears or watchful eyes. Wherever I look, the view's picturesque, an

n a breath, just staring at the horizon. Behind the hills,

the first time I've seen every inch of it. Fresh air. Lo

cause the Tomassinis have more than enough money to keep this club running until whenever they want to. So

it vibrates underneath my pencil skirt. I hope it's not so

asks, her frail voice on the ot

he nickname. "Still

d's texts? He's been

ing halts. Did somet

bout, erm, a few things. H

y ear and smile at her gentler tone,

ly can't

ng till Su

a sick leav

thing in Italian. "Hey," I say in a calmer voice, "I'm fine. They gave me a

for a bit," my workaholic mother encourag

you,

ork to

y tongue on the roof of my mouth instead. "So

atient. But he said he's lea

wealthiest clients practice their ba

rom the bank," my mom re

her to say: she went bank-hopping again for a loan. A

We were just thinking abo

ther sounds anxious. Preoccupied. "

ou know w

definitely in big trouble. "Fine." Ugh. There's no point arguing with

nd I'm way calmer than how I really feel. We

Tomassinis for another decade just to pay off some of my parents' outst

get that kind of money is to take my

to make that happen without

y post before

eechless. They're next to Alina. The two older men are speaking Ita

at? This month's CSAT data?

to my account, and paste a small smile on my lips in case Mr. Tomassini glances

updated weekend schedule when

I do, which Ignazio probably finds endearing in a way. "Seraphine, happy birthday," he greets in his jo

le and slightly bow. "Grazie, Signore. Bello

mia cara?" [You look bea

Sig

nazio glances down at the untouched birthday cake and my blouse. A grin reveals t

anything. Slicked back hair. Broad shoulders. Mus

and his gold watch only reveal a tiny fraction of his family's wealth. Some w

t my co-workers have been feeding the rumor mill

whenever I catch a glimpse of his

My futur

meday. Then we'll buy a house. Have cute babies. Raise our kids in

ight in shining armor. My Prince Charmi

oesn't kn

ut staying in this country. Dunno why, but, it probab

quick meeting with Ignazio and my co-workers, my day job now

I'm just gonna be serving food and drinks to some guests for two nights, I highly doubt he

] Ignazio grins at me as he walks out of the confere

quick bow and make my way back to the front desk. "Show up with a smile. Tend

ay no to Ignazio's offer of a 25-euros-an-hour

king on his yacht will be. There'll be security staff on the boat, though, inc

posed to show up in something light and tight-fitting

e air turns nippy. I log off at ten past

e toiletries, then get some sleep after I find the right

new job

't as extravagant as I expected

et dinner. No crazy fireworks

looks brand new and expensive. Like the food and drinks we serve

uffled chatter, laughter, and club music must be coming from the guests still hanging

three. I won't get paid in full tomorrow if I don't do this job pro

ght. But my phone gives me some ideas to distract myself.

urse trying to sext with me. I'm unusual

g with him, even sharing some of my persona

taly, he said. Maybe around

njoy our more than friendly banters. Feels nice to be appreciated and pursued e

ends me a million bucks right now. I'm not se

anagement won't hesitate to fire me. I work at a family-friendly

hone into my handbag and grab a rag. "Okay. Chill out. Nobody

needs t

strangers," I mutter to myself. I wipe some drops of t

been swaying lightly the past few hours. I didn't sleep much las

eing alive. Young. Healthy. Employed. For having a steady job and a few side hu

hts. Th

gging feeling telling me I'm lacking control of my life. I'm putting away

s

can't be

When did h

nd drugstore makeup. I don't wear much, but, this is definitel

my coat and knee-length boots an hour ago. Now I

night? Why does he h

ins, even though I didn't see him anywhere during dinn

s he all

ven look remotely excited to be here. Why's he glaring a

ers beside the messy pool table, alone and scowli

n talk to him without stuttering like a total mess. I

thing steady. "Get it together. It's no big deal. No big deal," I murmur to myself

und. I only see two security guards in the c

ice meeting. Why's he here? From what I'v

ht-cut pants. They're darker than his wavy hair that reaches his cl

body. I've watched him play t

's he

nds. They probably smell like wet towels. "Eww." My breath h

gs feel wobbly. I feel

good. Not

ing while he approaches the edge of the bar. I nearly

n one of the stools. Now we're merely two

ot too strong or faint. Just the right amount

ther step closer, I'l

itting right in front of

as possible and put on my friendliest smile. "Posso po

. On the

elf. My armpits and back feel sweaty. Good thing I

ank

his steady gaze and grab a clea

hone down when I se

e yo

above his brows. They're dark but not

rl? "Not really," I finally say after staring at him f

oks me up and down. "

irst time I've heard his deep and fairly raspy voice. I heard him speak English w

co almost sounds like he lived in America for a while. Is his

s dad's family proudly hails from Florence, and his m

glass and slide it beside his first. "Enjoy your dri

deep-set, soul-gripping eyes. They look a pale shade of green with l

ough proof he's still a bachelo

ten up and face him again. I can

on with me? Why? Did he mean, I don't l

t to look calm. "It's fine." I put on another smile. "No

to clean." Dominico t

ly don'

ng else, his buzzing pho

him. There's a natural ease in the way the fine lines on h

to say. I can only make guesses as to why he seems upset an

omething annoying. Does he always

boss; his father is. But I shouldn't

he know I'm rather unqualified for this bar

onist job has been my only source of income since I dropped o

ry club? Is that why he's making sm

tell him I'm on

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