The Mafia Princess’s New Groom Chapter 10
The light in her eyes flickered.
Her hand, still reaching toward me, trembled once and went still.
The room was quiet enough to hear the blood dripping off the edge of the altar.
I looked at Sophia’s body on the cold marble floor, and something old and tired stirred inside me.
Not grief exactly.
Something closer to waste.
She came to live with us when she was fifteen.
A scrawny, wide-eyed girl with nothing to her name and nowhere else to go.
From the very first day, I treated her like a little sister.
I bought her clothes, not maid’s uniforms, but the same brands I wore.
I hired private tutors so she could get an education.
When the other staff looked down on her, I shut them up with one look.
Yes, she was technically my maid.
But all she ever really did was bring me my morning coffee and set the table for dinner.
She lived like a daughter of the house.
She ate what I ate, wore what I wore, went where I went.
If she hadn’t betrayed me, I would have set her up with a good man in the family. A young capo with a future. Someone solid. Someone who’d treat her right.
With my name behind her, nobody would have touched her.
She would have lived a safe, comfortable life until she was old and gray.
But Sophia aimed higher than the sky could hold her. She wanted the throne. She wanted to be Mrs. Mancini, not the maid, not the little sister, but the queen.
And she thought the fastest way up was to find the biggest man she could and wrap herself around him.
She died without ever understanding the one truth that could have saved her.
A woman’s greatest weapon isn’t a man. It sure as hell isn’t love. A woman’s greatest weapon is herself.
Vincent shoved Sophia’s body aside. It slumped against the altar steps like a broken doll. He turned to me, blood on his hands, blood on his shirt, blood on the knife he was still holding.
“Boss.” His voice was hollow. Emptied out. “I did what you asked. She’s gone.”
A long pause. He swallowed.
“Isabella… how did we end up here? You and me.” His eyes searched my face for something. An answer. A crack. Anything. “If I’d never been given all that power — if things had stayed the way they were — would any of this have happened?”
I looked at him. Steady. Unmoved.
“No, Vincent. Nothing would be different. The wrong man is the wrong man. Power didn’t change you. It just gave you the excuse to show me who you really were.”
He flinched. Like I’d hit him.
I let the silence sit for a moment. Let it press down on him like a hand on his chest.
“One last gift, Vincent.” My voice was almost sadness. Almost kind. “That’s Sophia’ secret.”