Mafia Game: The 100th Prank, Paid with Life

After the Jones family's Don, Vincent Jones, suffered an "unexpected amnesia," he chased me like his life depended on it.

I played Vincent's girlfriend for three years—and somewhere along the way, I fell for him for real.

He swore he'd only ever love me, for the rest of his life.

But the moment I was about to tell him I was pregnant, I overheard the senior girl who had bullied me saying to him:

"Vincent, thank you for pretending to have amnesia and getting revenge for me; you’ve pranked Claire ninety-nine times."

"As long as you hit one hundred pranks, I'll date with you."

Only then did I understand: Sienna was the woman Vincent wanted and could never truly have.

Only a wall separated us, outside the VIP room of that Italian restaurant in downtown Manhattan.

I was just passing by.

I told myself: don't overthink it.

But their cheering slipped through the crack of the door and nailed my feet to the floor.

"Sienna—" someone dragged out her name, teasing.

Sienna White laughed softly, but her intonation lifted with excited triumph:

"Vincent, prank number ninety-six—passed!"

My breathing stalled for a beat.

Then I heard Vincent Jones's voice with the unfamiliar mockery I'd never heard from him before:

"You think it's fun?"

"Of course it's fun." Sienna giggled. "I'm getting even for you. Who let Claire Bennett shove you out of the top spot back then, and steal the student council presidency I basically had locked up?"

Someone immediately slapped the table and laughed:

"Donna's right! Once we hit one hundred, Vincent can officially announce you as the Jones family's Donna."

Donna.

That word stabbed straight into my heart. My blood froze.

I never imagined this whole courtship was just a love game in someone else's hands.

"Honestly, Vin really knows how to play," another guy laughed loudly.

"Back then, coming up with the fake amnesia to trick Claire? Fucking genius. She's been feeling sorry for you and blaming herself the whole time."

"The first one was already brutal," someone chimed in. "Making her go out in the rain to look for that bracelet. Then you turned around and gave it to Sienna, her face—I almost laughed myself to death."

My nails dug into my palm. The pain made me shiver, but I didn't dare make a sound.

That bracelet was what my mom pressed into my hand right before she died. Her fingertips were already ice-cold, but she still gripped me hard.

I always thought it got lost during the move because of Vincent. I couldn't even bring myself to blame him. Because I was the only one who knew what that bracelet meant.

That day I searched in the downpour for seven hours. My shoes were filled with water. I came home and spiked a 40-degree fever.

Vincent sat by the bed, tucked the covers around me, brows pulled tight, eyes full of heartbreak and guilt. "I'll buy you something better."

That "something better" made my heart go soft instantly.

But now I understood.

His "something better" had already been handed to Sienna.

They kept laughing inside.

"The most epic one was on capstone pitch day!" someone laughed until he coughed. "Vincent told her he was hit by someone at a bar. Claire ran over like a maniac, found out there wasn't even a fight, and then she cried in front of the whole room, begging her professor not to withdraw her recommendation letter—I even filmed it."

I bit my lower lip so hard I tasted blood.

That day I ditched the experiment my professor had entrusted to me and went looking for him like I was insane. In the end, my professor withdrew his letter, and I lost my chance to study abroad.

When I got back to campus, the disappointment and confusion in my professor's eyes cut deeper than anything.

And I still made excuses for Vincent—he didn't know I had an experiment; he didn't mean it.

Sienna chuckled, smug. "And that time we folded the game design draft she drew after pulling three all-nighters into paper airplanes. She was red-eyed, picking them up in the hallway for an entire night. So pitiful—like a stray dog with no home."

The room erupted in laughter.

Even Vincent laughed, like he was handing her the spotlight. "So how are we pranking her this time?"

"Just tell her you're in the hospital and make her come right away." Sienna said it like it was nothing. "We throw a party here and let her wait all night. How about it?"

I hadn't even had a full breath when my phone buzzed—the screen lighting up like a knife stabbed straight into my heart.

The only message from Vincent Jones:

[St. Mary's Hospital ER. Come now.]

Cold crawled up my spine. Instinct made me turn to leave, fearing that they'd open the door in the next second and see me standing there, see my pale face.