Fierce Love: Arranged Bride of the Mafia Don

“Madam you have miscarried. We are really sorry that we could not save the baby.” tears of agony trailed down my cheeks as I dialed my husband’s number with trembling fingers barely able to hold in the heart-wrenching sobs threatening to break free.

After two calls he still refused to pick up and when I dialed the third time, a strange woman received my call.

“Xander! Some ‘Elena’ is calling you!”

“What is it?” The phone was kept on speaker and Xander’s faraway cold voice made my throat choke with sadness.

“I am at the hospital, I fell down-“ Before I could complete the sentence I heard him telling the woman.

“Just hang up already, she must be throwing another fit.”

This morning, I fell down the stairs while doing the household chores and lost my consciousness, only to wake up and find blood tainting my lower half with injuries on my arm.

When I lost my baby in the unfortunate incident, Xander, my husband of five years, the mafia don of America was with another woman and did not bother to check how I came home limping with my insides feeling like they were on fire.

The same night when I vomited the food I ate, unable to consume anything at all as images of my dead child wrapped in blood continued to haunt me, I saw a pair of foreign lingerie thrown in the washing machine for me to wash.

Even if our two mafia families arranged our marriage but I had loved Xander for the past five years so much so that I was willing to work day and night, strengthening his mafia regime while also performing the duties of a housewife. Still, here he was, making me wash the clothes of a female he was having an affair with.

I splashed my face with cold water, completely wiping off the remnants of tears before looking at my reflection in the mirror.

The only daughter of Mafia Boss Valentine Durati.

Elena Valentine Durati.

I dialed an unknown number, and it was picked up on the very first ring.

“I agree to be your woman Mikhail Giovanni.” Silence followed and soon a manly laughter bloomed from the other side.

“Welcome to Italian Omerta, Elena.”

I agreed to sell my body and soul to the devil himself.

Just the moment I hung up, Xander opened the door of our bedroom and came out seemingly tired, hoping to be served dinner.

"Who was that on the phone?"

"Just someone" Sharp eyes looked at me demanding an answer.

I did not speak at all and rather typed calmly on my laptop, sending my marriage certificate to the Italian mafia for them to draft a divorce paper and to also prepare for my new marriage with their leader.

“Elena, serve me dinner.”

“It’s on the table, serve yourself.”

The food on the table was not home cooked and something I just ordered from outside, Xander looked at it and his face looked rather displeased.

“I got a call from the hospital that you lost your footing and fell down the stairs, they have sent me some medicines, you can take it."

"Alright," I said without looking up, still typing.

Earlier, in such a circumstance I would have fought with Xander, crying and complaining, hoping that he would understand how much it pained me but now I sat quietly without another word.

It was just last month that a fight broke out between the American mafia soldiers and the Italian Mafia lord Mikhail Giovanni and I personally had to intervene, three bullets got embedded in my arm by accident and I lost a lot of blood.

How ironic it was that Xander did not show up when I was hanging between life and death and the enemy, Mikhail Giovanni, carried me in his arms to the hospital.

The doctor told me today that It was already my fifth month of pregnancy and due to that incident a month ago my body was too fragile, if I could have been brought to the hospital even an hour earlier for treatment I wouldn't have lost my baby.

My dead eyes coupled with the absolute indifference made Xander feel uneasy thus he came to my side to see what I was doing, ironically it was at that moment his phone beeped with notifications.

“I am going out for dinner since you haven’t made any for me.” He coldly declared before shutting the door with a bang.

Hours passed and I received a notification on my Instagram account.

A picture was newly posted by my husband’s personal secretary -Diana.

Xander was holding Diana in his embrace as they posed for a photo with a caption.

[He got on his knees to apologize for being late and even spoiled me with my favorite wine, but I am still angry with him.]

The place in the background was my favorite diner with the view of the sea. Once I asked Xander to sit with me on the open side, only for him to refuse my request as immature and stupid.

Now it looked like he booked the entire floor to spend time with Diana.

The next morning, when I woke up, I saw a bouquet of fresh pink roses on the counter.

As soon as I gently touched their petals, reminiscing about my marriage flower bouquet, which was very similar to this, my hand was slapped as the flowers were snatched by Xander.

“Don’t touch them!” Xander glared at me furiously.

I froze for a second before realizing—these weren't for me. They were for his assistant—for Diana. A miserable smile graced my lips, and I went inside to bring out a packet.

"Before leaving, take these, I have washed them."

Xander took the parcel and as soon as he saw the lingerie inside his face wasn’t good. Watching my blank expression he opened his mouth to explain only to close it again.

"It was careless of Diana; I will talk to her."

I refused to answer and when Xander saw me not saying a word he said.

"I will call a servant to help you around with your work today."

My heart was so trampled upon that I refused to feel how his words jabbed my heart.

In our five years of marriage, I was merely his maid who would have sex with him whenever he wished for but when it came to Diana, he would kneel down for her, apologize for his mistakes and even hire servants to help her around in office.