The Mafia’s Substitute Bride

Emma was taken aback, her body jolting in surprise at the sound of Leonardo’s menacing and furious voice reverberating through the room. She hastily settled back into her seat, attempting to compose herself while a palpable fear lingered in her voice.

“Leonardo, please calm down. Sofia is resting in the guest room. She wasn’t feeling well and was eagerly waiting for you to arrive for lunch. I suggested that she take some time to rest until you came,” Emma replied, her voice quivering slightly as she tried to maintain an innocent facade.

Leonardo’s voice boomed again, filled with anger and impatience. “Where the hell is the guest room?” he bellowed, his frustration echoing through the space.

Carlo Ricci, standing at the top of the staircase, intervened forcefully, his voice resonating with authority and indignation. “Leonardo! Why are you causing a commotion in my house? You dare speak to my wife that way.”

A surge of fury filled Leonardo as he retorted, “Carlo Ricci, where is my wife? If anything happens to her, I won’t spare you or your wife. I’ll damn well annihilate your entire family, and no one will be able to stop me until I find Sofia this instant.”

Carlo, undeterred by Leonardo’s threats, descended the stairs, his rage matching that of Leonardo’s. “Are you out of your damn mind? You dare to speak of my daughter that way?” he shouted, his voice laced with righteous anger.

“And that daughter of yours is nowhere to be found in this house when she was supposed to have lunch with you, you damn Riccis!” Leonardo bellowed, his fury unrelenting.

Leonardo’s words hung in the air, tension thickening with each passing moment. Carlo, now face to face with Leonardo, engaged in a volatile confrontation. The audacity displayed by Carlo after Leonardo’s wife had vanished from their residence only fueled Leonardo’s boiling anger.

Turning his attention toward his wife, Carlo interrogated Emma in a dangerous tone, demanding answers. “Emma, where is Sofia?” he seethed, his voice heavy with an ominous warning.

“She… she… I… I sent her to rest in the guest room. Perhaps she’s asleep there. I… I’ll go and check on her,” she faltered, her words betraying her unease.

Emma’s stammering response only served to further confirm Leonardo’s suspicions.

Carlo, frustrated with the situation and the blame being placed upon them, lashed out at Emma, his voice reverberating with fury. “What are you waiting for, Emma? Hurry up, you fool! Can’t you see that Leonardo is accusing us?”

Emma rushed toward the guest room, her heart pounding with anxiety, and the others followed suit. She grasped the doorknob tightly, swiftly swinging the door open. Leonardo’s eyes darted inside the room, only to find it empty. Frustration surged through him, fueling his anger to its boiling point. His entire being craved revenge against the Ricci family.

Turning his attention to Carlo, Leonardo’s fury consumed him, and without a moment’s hesitation, he lunged forward, clutching Carlo’s throat and forcefully pinning him against the wall. The air grew thick with tension as Leonardo’s grip tightened, exerting pressure on Carlo’s windpipe.

In the midst of the tense confrontation, a bodyguard stepped forward, seeking to provide information. “Boss, when we entered the house with ma’am, there were two more individuals present. They are also missing.”

Leonardo’s head snapped toward Emma, his eyes filled with an intense mixture of anger and suspicion. With a renewed grip on Carlo’s neck, he demanded, “Who were they, and where are they now?”

Emma, her voice trembling with fear, stammered her response. “He must be referring to Carlo’s stepbrother, Mak Ricci, and his wife, Lana Ricci. They left after receiving an urgent call. Please, release my husband.”

The bodyguard interjected, causing Emma’s face to drain of color. “But we haven’t seen anyone leaving the premises.”

Desperation and panic etched across her face, Emma burst into tears, allowing her feigned emotions to cascade down her cheeks. “Carlo, please believe me. I’m telling the truth.”

Suddenly, Mak appeared, sprinting toward the group, his voice filled with urgency. “Boss, we managed to track Mrs. Morelli through the tracker in her ring.”

Leonardo’s grip on Carlo’s throat loosened, his attention now fully focused on finding Sofia. “What are we waiting for? Let’s go now,” he growled, his impatience leaving no room for delay.

Carlo, desperate to assist in locating Sofia, proposed joining the pursuit. However, Leonardo’s trust in the Ricci family had been shattered. Through gritted teeth, he dismissed Carlo’s offer. “No, I don’t trust any of the Riccis.”

With an intense determination, Leonardo sprinted toward his car, his mind consumed with the singular goal of reaching his beloved wife before any harm could befall her. The fire of vengeance burned within him as he vowed to eradicate anyone who dared to lay a finger on Sofia. No one could harm the wife of Leonardo Morelli without facing his wrath.

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Sofia’s eyes shot open, startled by the abrupt sensation of cold water splashing against her face. Still groggy and half-awake, her mind struggled to process the situation. It became apparent that something had been administered to her, causing her to lose consciousness.

As Sofia regained her senses, she discovered herself bound to a chair, tightly restrained with ropes constricting her hands and legs. Panic began to well up within her as she took in her surroundings. Before her stood her uncle, Mak, his presence accompanied by a group of menacing men.

“Wake up, you wretched woman,” Mak’s deep voice resonated through the room, and as Sofia lifted her gaze, she locked eyes with him, her uncle’s face contorted with anger.

“Uncle Mak, why am I tied up? What is happening?” Sofia managed to utter, her voice trembling as she strained against the restraints that held her.

“Because you deserve to be punished, and there’s no better place for you than the depths of hell,” Mak sneered, his expression filled with disdain.

The men surrounding him burst into laughter, their mocking laughter echoing off the walls. Sofia’s heart pounded within her chest, anxiety coursing through her veins.

Her brows furrowed in confusion and anger as Mak continued his verbal assault, taunting her about her deceased mother. Sofia’s patience reached its limits. How could he insult her mother even after her passing?

“Don’t you dare speak ill of my mother!” Sofia’s voice rang out, laced with a mix of defiance and frustration. She was tired of enduring their insults and mistreatment.

Mak swiftly moved toward her, his face twisted with rage, and delivered a forceful slap across her cheek. Pain seared through Sofia’s face, and the metallic tang of blood filled her mouth. Tears welled up in her eyes as she tasted the bitter sting of her uncle’s cruelty.

“Do not dare to raise your voice in my presence, you wretched whore!” Mak snarled, gripping Sofia’s hair tightly, causing her to cry out in agony as he yanked her strands mercilessly.

Mak abruptly released Sofia’s hair, causing her head to jerk back. He extended his hand toward another man who handed him a stack of papers. With a sneer on his face, Mak thrust the papers in Sofia’s direction.

“I want your signature on these papers. Come on, you bitch. Sign them,” Mak spat, motioning to the man who approached and pried open Sofia’s hand.

Sofia’s voice trembled as she mustered the courage to ask, “What kind of papers are these?”

Mak’s eyes narrowed with disdain. “You don’t need to know. Just sign them and put an end to this fucking drama,” he growled, his impatience palpable.

“No, I won’t sign anything until you tell me what’s written on these papers,” Sofia whispered, her voice cracked and fragile, her cheeks still stinging from the previous impact.

Mak’s anger flared at Sofia’s defiance. “How dare you refuse? Don’t you want to live?” he yelled, his voice filled with venom.

In an instant, Mak’s fist collided with Sofia’s face once again, causing her to fall onto her hand, taking the chair down with her. A sharp pain shot through her hand, intensifying her suffering.

Mak forcefully lifted the chair, his aggression unabated. Sofia suppressed her sobs, mustering all her strength to be brave. However, the pain coursing through her hand brought tears to her eyes, which streamed down her cheeks.

Mak tossed the papers onto Sofia’s face, his voice a ferocious snarl. “Sign these papers!”

Mak desperately wanted Sofia to sign the documents, but he refused to disclose their contents. Sofia, now aware that Mak intended for her demise, refused to comply blindly. She couldn’t fathom accepting her fate without understanding why she deserved such a cruel end.

Suddenly, the sound of gunfire reverberated from beyond the door, causing Mak’s face to drain of color. Alarmed, he instructed one of his men to investigate the commotion outside.

Seizing the opportunity, Mak forcefully grabbed the papers, gripping Sofia’s hand tightly and positioning the pen on the paper. He exerted pressure, trying to guide Sofia’s hand to sign against her will.All text © NôvelD(r)a'ma.Org.

“Sign these papers. Hurry up! I don’t have time,” Mak threatened, pressing the cold metal of his gun against the side of Sofia’s head. His voice dripped with a chilling menace.