Page 31
Story: Dark Mafia Crown
My lungs seize. “Me? I don’t even know who he is. How could he possibly?—”
“He thinks he knows you. But he doesn’t.” Her laugh is brittle, almost broken. “Remember that night you told me about? When a man came out of nowhere and saved you from those thugs at our place? When they all thought you were me—and he did, too?”
The memory crashes in, uninvited and raw. Me—dressed in Chiara’s clothes, trapped, helpless—until he burst through the door and tore through them like they were nothing, like they didn’t even exist. There was something in him—something dangerous, undeniable.
Sometimes, when I sleep in my bed, I still see him there, doing things too filthy to put into words.
And like always, my toes curl. Even now, even in this godforsaken church.
“What about that man?” I ask. A sudden flash—strong hands on my waist, lips grazing my neck. Heat spreads through me.
“You slept with him, didn’t you? And never gave him your real name,” she says, voice flat.
The world falls silent except for the rush in my ears.
“That was him? The man who made you the offer?”
“He saved you that night. Those men weren’t just debt collectors, Aria. They meant to hurt you—hurt me. He… took care of them.”
“Took care of them.” The words hang between us—sharp, heavy, like a blade.
“He came for you that night. Then he found me—the real me—and offered this arrangement. He wants to marry the woman he met, but he’s trapped by his own mistake—thinking you’re me.”
My hand trembles so badly that I nearly drop the phone. “This is insane. You can’t possibly expect me to?—”
“I ran,” she interrupts, voice shaking. “I thought I could find the money to pay D’Angelo off and cut the deal. But four days—it wasn’t nearly enough time. I got scared. Scared of what would happen if they found out I tricked them. So I took their money and ran. Now, if they catch me, Aria… they’ll find me, and they’ll kill me. Because I made a contract with him—and they have ways to make sure I keep my end of the bargain.”
“Then we go to the police,” I say, but even as the words leave my mouth, I know it’s not that simple. It never is for us.
“The police?” Chiara laughs like she’s shocked I could be that dumb. “A man as powerful as that probably owns the police. He probably owns this whole city. There’s nowhere I can hide that he won’t find me.”
A man in a suit glances in my direction, his gaze lingering a beat too long. I turn away, pressing deeper into the floral arrangement.
“Get here right now,” I demand, my voice low and urgent. “This is crazy, Chiara. You can’t seriously think I would?—”
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Aria. I thought… I thought I could fix everything. I thought this was our chance.”
“By selling me to a stranger?” My voice rises despite myself, and I clamp my lips shut as heads turn in my direction. “To a killer,” I whisper now.
“He doesn’t want just anyone,” Chiara insists. “He wantsyou—the woman he saved that night. I’m just—I’m the name on the paperwork.”
“This is insane,” I repeat, my voice trembling but desperate to hold onto reason. But then it hits me—the sick, brutal truth sinking in like a blade twisting in my chest. “You were never my plus-one, were you? You didn’t bring me here to stand beside you. You brought me here toreplaceyou.”
She says nothing—and that says everything.
“You’re my sister,” I say, and there’s a pleading note in my voice I hate. “How could you do this? How much did you sell me for?”
“Because you’re smarter—and the only one who can get out of this mess. You don’t break; you bend and come back stronger. You always do.”
“Chiara—”
“I have to go. They’re watching the roads. I love you, Aria. I’m sorry.”
The line goes dead, and I realize she never even told me the cost of my life.
I stand frozen, staring at my phone as if it might offer a way out of this nightmare. But there’s no escape—not really. If I walk away now, they’ll come after Chiara. And probably me, too.
We’ve been running our whole lives, and we’re so damn tired.
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