I Married the Wrong Mafia Prince

Chapter 10: Burning Bridges

I hated every second of the masquerade.

The bright lights. The suffocating perfume. The flash of cameras. And most of all — Elio’s hand wrapped around my waist like a noose. I wished I had the capability to kill him. I smiled tightly as we walked into the ballroom, heart pounding like a war drum inside my chest.

Fake, fake, fake.

Everything about tonight was a lie.

We moved through the crowd, nodding to the powerful men and jeweled women who pretended they didn’t know how dirty their money was. At our assigned table, Elio’s parents — Cesare and Regina Conti — greeted us with tight, polished smiles.

"Where the hell did you disappear to on your wedding day?" Cesare asked smoothly, voice soft enough for only us to hear. My parents stiffened beside me, warning in every line of their posture. I smiled sweetly.

"I got frustrated. Cold feet," I said, voice sugar-slick. "It won’t happen again. I promise, I think?" His parents raised their eyebrows at me, “I promise.” Elio chuckled darkly beside me, giving my waist a squeeze.

"Good girl, Isabella," he whispered in my ear. I barely suppressed the urge to vomit. My hands were itching to scratch his face from smiling wickedly at me.

Instead, my mind wandered—Not to Elio. Not to the future they were trying to chain me into.

But to Leandro.

To the way he had touched me without permission but with terrifying precision. The way he kissed like he wanted to ruin me and save me in the same breath. I couldn't stop thinking about him. His voice and his mouth. His body pressed against mine. I shook the thoughts away violently as a few of my old friends floated over, champagne flutes in hand.

"Isa!" they chirped. "When's the big wedding?"

"Next month," I said automatically, fake smile glued in place. They gushed about gowns and honeymoons, about Elio's "power" and "charm" like I wasn’t standing right there suffocating under it.

I scanned the room for an escape — and froze.

Across the dance floor, by one of the marble pillars, Elio was slipping away. Not alone, but with Natalie Romano clung to his side, giggling into his neck. Those two.

I saw red.

Without thinking, I stood up, excused myself, and moved toward them, rage boiling under my skin.

Not tonight, I thought. Not again. I would bust them. I would humiliate him in front of everyone the way he humiliated me. But a rough hand caught my arm, yanking me into a darkened side hallway.

Before I could scream, a hand clamped gently — but firmly — over my mouth.

"Shh, princess," a deep voice murmured against my ear.

My heart stopped.

Leandro.

He grinned down at me, wicked and unrepentant, his black mask only half-hiding his features.

I shoved his hand off me. "What the hell are you doing here? Are you crazy?" I whispered furiously. He leaned against the wall, casual and lethal all at once.

"Thinking about you," he said simply. "Every goddamn second." My breath caught. He stepped closer, crowding my space, his body heat sinking into my skin.

"You're such a distraction," he said, voice low and rough. "I can't focus. Can't work. Can't breathe without seeing you in my head." I swallowed hard.

"You shouldn't be here," I said, glancing around nervously. "Guards are everywhere." Leandro smiled lazily.

"I'm a risk-taker," he said. "Always have been. But you, princess...you make me reckless." My heart slammed against my ribs.

"You have to go," I whispered, half in panic, half in desperate disappointment. He tilted his head, studying me like I was the most fascinating puzzle he'd ever seen.

"Are you scared for me?”

“No.” Lies.

“Come to my place tonight," he said softly. "Before eleven." I stared at him like he’s growing another head behind him. I was about to protest but he cut me. "If you don’t," he continued, mouth brushing the shell of my ear, "I’ll come get you myself."

A shiver ran down my spine.

"I can't," I whispered, voice shaking.

He smiled — slow, dangerous. "You will."

Footsteps echoed from the hallway. Leandro caught my chin gently, forcing me to look up at him. His rough hand tangled in my hair, the other gripping my waist as he crushed his mouth to mine.

It wasn’t a kiss. It was a wildfire.

He kissed me like he owned me. Like he had every right to.

And worst of all—I kissed him back.

Desperately and hungrily, like my life’s depending on it. I clutched at his jacket, pulling him closer, feeling the hard lines of his body pressed to mine. His mouth moved against mine with reckless hunger, his teeth grazing my bottom lip, his hands sliding lower. If he hadn’t stopped, I knew I would have let him take me.

Right there. Right against the pantry shelves. Right in the middle of the Contis’ grand ballroom.

A low, guttural sound rumbled from his throat as he finally pulled back, breathing hard. He pressed his forehead to mine.

"Tonight," he growled, voice thick with promise. "You’re going to come to my apartment and we will continue where we left off, princess." His hand slid down my side, lingering dangerously on my hip.

"If you’re not at my place by eleven…" he whispered against my lips, "I’m coming to steal you myself." He smirked.

And then — like smoke — he vanished into the shadows.

Leaving me breathless. Burning in frustration and shaking for wanting more. And I’m very, very aware that there was no turning back now.