

Substitute Groom For The Mafia Boss
Precious Onyinye · Ongoing · 53.9k Words
Introduction
When Liam LaRosa returns to New York, he expects his sister's wedding, not his wedding. But after his twin sister takes her own life hours before her forced mafia wedding, Liam is given an impossible ultimatum: take her place at the altar… or watch his family fall.
Now bound to Donatello Moranno, the city’s most feared mafia boss, Liam becomes a pawn in a bloodstained game of power, loyalty, and twisted desire. But what starts as survival turns into something far more dangerous.
Because Donatello isn’t just the devil in a tailored suit. He’s the man Liam can’t stop thinking about.
And in a world where love is a liability… falling for the enemy might be a death sentence.
Chapter 1
Liam’s POV
I had been running from my family’s secrets for years, but one phone call brought me back to the very place I’d been trying to escape.
“Liam, you need to come home,” my mother’s voice came over the phone. “Miranda’s getting married this weekend, and… and I think you should be here.”
“Married?”
I didn’t know why no one thought to inform me that my twin sister was getting married until now.
I spoke with Miranda almost every day on the phone, but she never mentioned anything about getting married.
After getting off the phone with Mom, I called Miranda, and she confirmed it. She was going to be a wife!
Without asking for explanations, I packed my bags and took the next flight back home. And when the plane finally touched down at JFK Airport, I felt a mix of emotions swirling in my chest.
I was excited to see my sister and family once again, but also anxious about facing the life I’d been running away from.
When I got off the plane, I spotted a familiar face—my mother's driver, Vinnie, holding a sign with my name on it. He was a lanky man with a scruffy beard and a perpetual scowl. But despite his unapproachable demeanor, he had a soft spot for me and Miranda.
"Liam! Look at you," he smiled as he took my bag from me. "Welcome back to America."
I nodded, feeling a bit more at ease as I walked behind Vinnie to the waiting car. It was a black SUV, the windows tinted, and my family's logo—a stylized letter "L"—was proudly displayed on the side.
As we drove through the city, I looked out the window, watching everything blur by. It had been just five years since I’d been away, but it seemed like a lot had changed around here.
New York City now looked both foreign and intimidating.
Vinnie tried to make small talk as we drove, asking how I was and how life had been in the UK. Well, what could I say? I’d been living the life of my dreams.
“You even got their accent,” Vinnie noted in a fake accent, and I just laughed, grateful for how much effort he was putting into making me relax.
When we turned onto the driveway of our estate, I drew in a deep breath as I saw the men in dark suits and shades, standing with guns by the entrance.
I let out a loud sigh as Vinnie stopped the car so one of the men could inspect it.
“This life bothers you, doesn’t it?” he asked me as he rolled down the window, and one of the men in suits stuck his head in, his eyes scanning the insides of the vehicle.
His eyes landed on me in the backseat, and he just acknowledged me. “Welcome back, Sir,” he said and then took a step back.
“Let her through,” he yelled, and the gates of the LaRosa mansion opened up.
“You know all of this is for the family’s protection,” Vinnie reasoned. “Being a part of a mafia family automatically makes you a target in the underworld. There are always going to be people looking to take us down, to gain power and control for themselves.”
I nodded, trying to understand. This was the life my father wanted me to take over, but I really didn’t want it. “I’ve gotten used to a more… normal life,” I mumbled, but Vinnie’s head snapped up to look at me in the rearview mirror.
“Normal?” he chuckled. “You’re a LaRosa. The heir, in fact. You should know that normal isn’t exactly in our DNA.”
I smiled wryly. He was right, of course. My family’s business was far from legitimate, and our wealth was built on power, loyalty, and sometimes, bloodshed.
As we pulled up to the entrance, I felt a shiver run down my spine as I gazed up at the large white building.
“It’s good to be home,” I told myself before stepping out of the car.
As I took the first step toward the entrance, the door burst open, almost startling me.
Two men in dark suits walked out; one had a gun, and he was obviously showing the other out. Both turned to glance at me, and as I tried to avoid their gazes, my eyes landed on the briefcase the second man was holding.
I could guess what was in there.
Cash.
Wads and wads of it.
I looked away and just went, welcoming myself back into a world of crime and blood.
As I pushed the doors open, I was greeted by the high-pitched voice of a woman yelling into her phone. “The wedding is tomorrow! Why the hell has the bride’s dress not been delivered yet?”
I assumed that was the event planner, and before I could say hello, I heard a familiar voice call out to me.
“Son?”
I looked up to see my mom, standing in a corner and she broke into a smile when she saw that it was me.
I ran over to her, and she pulled me into her tight embrace.
I stayed there for a while, taking in her familiar scent which was a mix of her perfume and that motherly scent I couldn’t describe. It was a smell that instantly comforted me, making me feel safe and at home.
As I hugged her tightly, I felt a lump form in my throat. I had missed her so much.
When pulled back slightly, looking at her face. She smiled, her eyes shining with tears as she cupped my face.
"Thank you for coming," she whispered, stroking my hair. "I’m glad you chose not to miss this."
“My own sister’s wedding? Nah, I had to come,” I laughed.
“You should go see her,” Mom nudged. “She doesn’t know you’re here
I made my way to my twin sister’s room then and I was surprised that the wedding preparations did not extend to that side of the house.
I expected makeup artists, hairdressers, and even the event planners in Miranda’s bedroom, but the hallway leading there looked empty.
Maybe she asked for some privacy? I thought to myself.
If there was one habit my sister never outgrew, it was locking herself up in her room for the longest time. Honestly, growing up in a household like this was enough to make you shut everything out.
As I leaned toward her door, I raised my hand to knock but froze when I heard a sound that was all too familiar.
I leaned in, almost pressing my ear against the door to make sure, and I heard it clearly.
Moanings.
Was my sister fucking someone a day before her wedding?
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Last Updated: 5/19/2025
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