THE MAFIA’S MISTAKEN BRIDE

Jasmine’s POV

This isn’t a phobia, it’s anxiety.

It is making my bladder full and my eyes are scanning the hall to find the restroom so I can go and urinate.

Maybe I will feel better. And more relaxed.

Why the hell will he go off just like that? Isn’t he the boss? Aren’t they supposed to come to him instead?

His back is to me as he converses with the so-called business associate. It is taking my mind back to my curiosity about what type of work he does. If he has business associates, then it means he is a businessman.

Maybe I was wrong about him being in a dangerous business like the Mafia. I have little knowledge about people in the Mafia but I know they are dangerous and sacred.

Maybe it’s because I find him handsome and dangerous. Most Mafia bosses that I read about in books are just like him.

Unable to hold back the urge to urinate, I look around once more, shifting the glass of wine aside so as not to spill it. I try to catch sight of Mathew and the other man he said are within range but I can’t find anyone.

Mathew isn’t in sight. And I don’t know the other guy.

Mathew is the only one I am familiar with. The others all look alike with their huge bodies and ever-looking serious expressions. Most of them wear glasses to hide their eyes.

They are pretty scary.

Instinctively, I shoot to my feet, clutching my purse as I make my way towards one of the party’s ushers. She flashes me a smile as I approach and I reciprocate.

“Hi”, I wave shyly at her as I clutch my purse more firmly.

“Hi, how can I help you?”

“I need to use the bathroom, is there any around?” I demand from her, taking in her young beautiful features.

“Sure”, she mutters, pointing towards a door. “The one on your left is for the ladies.”

With a last smile, waving the thought of how young she is away, I stroll calmly towards the door she directed me to.

I get there and push it open. Just like I thought, it is clean and sparkling. The host of this party must be super rich just like Xavier. I am not surprised, though. The rich roll with the rich while the poor roll with the poor.

That is how life has always been.

I am sure if Andre was from a poor background, Xavier wouldn’t have insisted on marrying her. The rich from what I know get married for reasons; arranged marriage to form a partnership, contract marriage to get their inheritance, and matchmaking to make friendship between families stronger.

They are all cliche.

Rich people’s lives are too cliche.

The poor on the other hand, live a free life. They can get married to whoever they want and whenever they want to be married.

But then, there is a huge difference between the rich and the poor. The rich have it all but the poor don’t. What the poor have is limited.

I sigh deeply as I rush into the first room to urinate. I really do not know why I am analyzing all of this shit in my head. It doesn’t matter, does it?

Right now, I am in between the two. I don’t even know what to call myself. The poor girl married to a rich man? Or a rich man’s wife?

Relief washes through me as soon as I am done urinating and I quickly clean up so I can leave before Xavier notices my absence. I step out, my eyes coming in contact with the tiny mirror fixed above the basin.

I look pretty in this black lace dress. It is shining brightly as I have it complimented with diamond jewelry.

Adjusting the pleats of hair falling all over, I tug each pleat behind my ear, watching myself closely and looking for evidence of changes in my look.

I haven’t changed much. The make-up does it all.

Do I really look like this? I ask within me.

Lately, dressing this sophisticated makes me look like her.

I wonder how she is doing and where she is. I wonder if she will ever come back home. And I wonder if she left because she loved someone else.

Most people run away from home just to be with the man they love. This might be the case for Andre. She seems fierce. Stubborn headed unlike me.

With another sigh, I turn around slowly to go out when I bump into a hard wall. It makes my head spin for a while till I raise my head to meet the gaze of a familiar pair of green eyes.ConTEent bel0ngs to Nôv(e)lD/rama(.)Org .

They are dark but not as dark as Xavier’s.

A smirk descends upon his face as the realization dawns upon me. “Vincenzo?”

“Jasmine Cooper?” he demands to be sure. “What the hell are you doing here?”

I can’t find my voice. This man makes my skin crawl. He is in the Mafia. He owns Chicago. Every gangster in Chicago bows to him. Every crime conducted in Chicago is also related to Vicenzo, except for rape.

“I knew it. I kept looking at you the moment I saw you walk in with Xavier. I just wanted to confirm my suspicions”, he smiles sheepishly, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Got yourself a rich boyfriend? Or is this just a fling?”

I step back abruptly, making his hand fall off my shoulder. I avoid his gaze as a cold shiver runs down my spine at the thought of him knowing Xavier.

How did he know him? Do they know each other? If he knows Xavier so well, does it mean I was right about Xavier being in the Mafia?

“You haven’t changed a bit, have you?” I can detect the smugness and annoyance in his voice.

I left Albany because of him. He has always had his eyes on me. First, it was one of his men who wouldn’t stop ogling and smacking my ass. Then I gained his attention the very day I slapped his man who smacked my ass.

I didn’t mean to. I just thought that was the best thing to do to keep the idiot off. I never knew I was digging a grave for myself.

Vicenzo wanted me. He wanted me to be his fuck girl but I refused. Just a day before our first date, I left Albany and moved elsewhere to search for a new job.

I haven’t seen him since then.

Trying to walk past him with my head down, he steps forward, blocking me from going out.

“Are you one of his flings?” he demands again with gritted teeth, making me raise my head to meet his intense gaze.

Out of the blues, a feeling of courage fills me up, followed by pride. “No. I am his wife.”

His jaws drop open as he exclaims loudly in disbelief. “Xavier’s wife? What?!”

Disbelief skates his expression and it disappears as soon as it appears on his face. Suddenly, he begins to laugh. That throaty laughter makes me want to run far away from him.

“Like seriously? Really?” Anger shimmers through his expression.

Before I can say anything else, wondering what relationship he has with Xavier, he nods in satisfaction and claps his hands.

Immediately, the bathroom door is thrown open and three hefty men stalk in. I recognize one of them as I stay frozen with terror.

Sebastian.

The same man I slapped two years ago.

Trembling with fear, I skate back. Sebastian gives me a toothy grin and I know today is the day of vengeance.

Before I can think of a way of escaping these men’s wrath, they shut the door and grab me, sticking a whitish substance into my nostril, a syringe piercing my skin as I let out a scream.

Darkness envelopes me.