The Mafia’s Bride; His Revenge

The note was hastily scrawled, the edges crumpled as if the messenger had second thoughts before passing it along.

"Marcus isn't who you think he is. Don't accept the engagement proposal."

My fingers trembled as I gripped the Paper, my heart hammering in my chest. A warning? Or was this something kind of joke? I scanned the crowded engagement hall, searching for the young girl who had handed it to me, but she had already disappeared into the throngs. of the well dressed guests.

The music swelled, laughter rang out, but the uneasy feeling made my stomach knot. Everything was perfect —too perfect. The opulent chandeliers cast a golden glow over the room, the scent of roses and expensive champagnes filled the air, and Marcus —my Marcus —stood at the center, flashing effortless smile as he spoke to our friends.

Tonight was special—My engagement party, a night I have waited for. In few minutes I'd officially belong to Marcus, the love of my life since high school. Six long years of laughter, promises, ups and downs has led us here,  it's about time we make it official and my heart was supposed to swell at the thought of forever, but now.......

Now, it felt like I couldn't breathe.

I should ignore this. I thought to myself. I folded the note and shoved it into my clutch, forcing a smile as Marcus turned toward me. His eyes darkened with concern.

"What's wrong?"

For a moment I thought of telling me about the paper, but I hesistated. Was I being paranoid? Was this just a meaningless prank?

"Nothing," I lied, plastering a smile onto my lips. "Just can't believe we'll finally be getting married."

His concern melted in a smirk as he wrapped his arms around my waist. "Yes, we're getting married. And tonight is all about us."

Then he continued. "I love you, Elena," he said, his voice earnest. Then he shove his hand in his pocket, revealing a small velvet ring box. "Please make me the happiest man on earth," he went down on one knee, his affectionate gaze never leaving me.  "Will you marry me?"

For a moment, my mind went back to the paper, but then I wasn't going to destroy everything we've shared because of that.

The room erupted in cheers as I nodded. "Yes, I'll marry you, Marcus," I said, my voice trembling with joy. He slid the finger in my hand before standing up and pulling me into an embrace. Music swelled around us as we dance.

Even in his arms, my mind was miles away, a whirlwind of thoughts of the suspicious stranger, and the cryptic note, dimming my happiness.

As the night wore off, Marcus phone buzzed, his gentle touch on my skin pulled me away from my thoughts.

"I need to pick this call," he whispered. I nodded and he walked out of the room.

Left alone, I sank into a nearby couch. Minutes passed, Marcus hasn't returned yet. I was getting bored, and darted my eyes across the room hoping to find Cathy—my best friend—but she wasn’t in the hall either.

A strange feeling settled in my gut.

I should really go get Marcus. Standing up, I slipped through the crowd and made my way towards the dimly lit hallway. My heels clicked softly against the polished floor as I approached our lodge door. My breath caught when I heard it—hushed whispers, a throaty cry..

Then a breathless moan.

My stomach dropped.

Slowly, I pushed the door open just a fraction. And my worst nightmare unfolded before me.

Marcus. My fiancé. The man who had just proposed. He knelt down, his head were buried between Cathy's thighs. My best friend trembling from the thrill of my man's mouth on her. Her fingers tingled in his hair as she gasped, her body shuddering.

I staggered back, my vision blurring as tears slide down my cheeks. These are the people I trusted the most. How .......how did this happen?

Marcus raised his head and murmured. "I love you Cathy," he said, his voice warm just like they were to me. Then it turned cold. "That idiot will never know."

I choked on a hollow laugh. That idiot? Me?

"I will book another lodge in the hotel," Cathy murmured as she adjusted her skirt. "I'll be waiting for you there to finish me up."

For a second, I wanted to burst into the room, scream, slap them both—demand why.

But I wouldn't

I knew. And they were going to regret it.

Later that night, Marcus threw on a fresh shirt.

"I have some work to finish at the office," he said. "So don't wait up for me."

I nodded, forcing a smile at me. Liar. He was definitely going to finish Cathy up.

He leaned down, and placed a kiss on my neck —one that almost made me puke as the memory of his mouth on Cathy flashed back. Then he walked out of the suite.

Marcus hadn't suspected anything yet. I don't know how I had been able to keep myself together, smiling at them like nothing happened when I really want to rip their face off.

I ran into the ensuite bathroom, tears spilled down my cheeks the moment the door shut. Inside bathroom, I grabbed a sponge with a soap and started scrubbing the exact spot he had kissed me. I scrubbed hard and only stopped when my neck turned red.

I glance at my reflection in the mirror. Six years wasted. Six years of loving the wrong man. How can the man I love be fucking my best friend in the same hotel where I was?

I needed air. Anywhere but here. Before I do something I might regret.

Steadying myself, I walked back into the room, quickly changed into a simple shirt and trouser. I made my way out of the suite and headed towards the bar.

"Another glass," I said to the bartender.

He hesistated, staring at me for a moment. "Haven't you had enough?"

"Another glass." My voice came out sharper than I intended.

Without another word, he filled the glass and I threw it down in one gulp. The liquid burned down my throat, but it wasn't enough to blur out the image burned into my mind.

Marcus. Between Cathy's thighs.

Hot tears streamed my cheeks again as the scene replayed on a loop. "I trusted him," I muttered, slamming my hand on the counter.

The bartender flinched from the sudden outburst. "Easy, girl."

"Sorry," I whispered, wiping the tears off my face with the back of my hand.

I should go back now. I reached for my clutch, placing a few bills on the counter, and turned to leave—

Only to crash into something.

No. Someone.

I looked up, my breath catching as I swallowed hard.

He was the most beautiful man have ever seen in my entire life.

Tall. Broad-shouldered. Dangerous. His deep grey eyes piercing into my soul and stripping me bare. His sculpted pink lips, his tailored black suit, the intoxicating scent of his cologne —it all made me ache.

His expression was unreadable as he studied me.

Something inside me snapped. Maybe it was the heartbreak. Maybe it was the alcohol.

But I didn't think. Infact, I lost every sense of reasoning.

I just grabbed his collar and crashed my lips onto his.