Mafia's Surrogate Bride Chapter 14

Damian's POV

Of course she'd found another job. The woman seemed to have a talent for appearing wherever I least expected her, like some persistent shadow I couldn't shake. How the hell had someone so clumsy and reckless managed to infiltrate an event of this caliber?

I studied her as she stood before me, trembling slightly. The conservative uniform she wore was a stark contrast to the revealing bunny costume from the Moon Bar. The crisp white shirt and black vest suited her far better than those cheap, provocative outfits ever had.

Not that the revealing clothes didn't suit her—they did, perfectly, when she was beneath me in my bed. But seeing her exposed like that in public, surrounded by men who looked at her like she was merchandise for sale... that had bothered me more than I cared to admit.

"I'm so sorry, sir," she stammered, her head bowed in submission. "I didn't see you there. I was just—"

"Running through a private estate like you're being chased by wolves?" I interrupted, my voice carrying just enough amusement to make her squirm. "Interesting evening entertainment for the hired help."

Her cheeks flushed pink. "It was an accident. I didn't mean to—"

"You seem to have quite a few accidents around me, don't you, piccola?" The endearment slipped out before I could stop it, and I saw her body tense at the memory it evoked.

She tried to step backward, clearly desperate to escape this conversation. "I should get back to work. The other servers will be looking for me."

"Should they? Or are you running from something more interesting than spilled wine this time?"

Before she could answer, a familiar voice called my name from across the hallway.

"Damian, my boy!"

I turned to see Antonio Montrosso approaching, his weathered face breaking into a genuine smile. Despite my father's expectations that I treat all family allies with calculated respect, my regard for Antonio was sincere. He was my grandfather's closest friend, a man who'd earned his position through intelligence and honor rather than brutality alone.

"Antonio," I replied, offering him the slight bow that tradition demanded. "You're looking well."

"As are you, though I suspect you've been working too hard as usual." His eyes twinkled with familiar warmth. "How have you been, figlio mio? It's been too long since we've had a proper conversation."

"Business keeps me occupied. But I can't complain about the results."

"Ah, always so serious. Just like your grandfather at your age." Antonio glanced meaningfully at the girl beside me, who was still trying to edge away unnoticed. "I hope you're finding time for more... personal... pursuits as well."

I knew exactly where this conversation was heading. Antonio, like my grandfather, had very specific ideas about my future that involved marriage, heirs, and strengthening family alliances through blood ties.

"I'm exploring various options," I said carefully.

"Speaking of which, have you seen Adriana this evening? She's been looking forward to speaking with you." His voice carried the gentle pressure of a man who'd spent decades arranging beneficial matches between powerful families.

Before I could respond, Adriana herself appeared from a doorway to our left. She looked stunning, as always—her black evening gown perfectly tailored to showcase her figure, her hair arranged in elegant waves that framed her face beautifully. Every inch of her screamed money, breeding, and social position.

She was exactly the kind of woman I was supposed to want. Beautiful, connected, sophisticated enough to navigate the dangerous waters of our world. Any man would consider himself fortunate to have her attention.

But looking at her only reinforced my determination to avoid marriage entirely. The possessive gleam in her eyes, the way she moved toward me like I was already her property—it made my skin crawl. I'd watched my father destroy my mother with his infidelity, seen how marriage could become a prison for both parties.

"Damian," she said, her voice warm with practiced charm. "I was hoping to find you here."

But something was off about her manner tonight. Beneath the polished exterior, she seemed nervous, almost frantic. Her hands moved restlessly, and her smile didn't quite reach her eyes.

"Adriana," I replied with the courtesy her position demanded. "You look beautiful this evening."

"Thank you. I... I wanted to speak with you privately, if possible." She glanced around as if checking for eavesdroppers. "Wait here just one moment. I have something special I want to share with you."

She disappeared back through the doorway she'd emerged from, leaving Antonio and me alone with the increasingly uncomfortable server girl who was still trying to vanish into the wallpaper.

"That young woman has grown into quite a beauty," Antonio said, following Adriana's retreat with approving eyes. "And more importantly, she's developed the strength of character this family needs. She would make you an excellent wife, Damian."

"She would make someone an excellent wife," I corrected diplomatically.

Antonio's expression grew more serious. "Your grandfather and I have discussed this at length. The alliance between our families has served both sides well for generations. A marriage between you and Adriana would secure that partnership for the future."

"Marriage isn't in my plans, Antonio," I said carefully. "I believe there are more... practical... solutions to securing the family line."

Antonio's eyebrows rose. "More practical than a union that would strengthen both our houses?"

"A marriage built on political convenience rarely produces the loyalty our families require," I replied. "I've seen what happens when people are forced into roles they don't want."

"You're thinking of your parents."

"I'm thinking of reality." I kept my voice level, respectful, but firm. "My father's marriage to my mother was arranged for similar reasons. The alliance served its purpose, but the personal cost was... significant."

Antonio studied my face with those perceptive eyes. "And you believe you can avoid such complications how?"

"By avoiding marriage altogether. An heir can be secured without the entanglements of a political wife."

I was spared from having to respond by Adriana's return. She carried a crystal champagne flute filled with what looked like expensive vintage, her earlier nervousness replaced by determined confidence.

"I thought we might toast to old friendships," she said, offering me the glass. "This is from grandfather's private collection—a 1996 Dom Pérignon. He's been saving it for special occasions."

She produced a second glass from somewhere and raised it toward mine. "To new beginnings."

The champagne sparkled invitingly in the crystal, and Antonio beamed with approval at the romantic gesture. This was exactly the kind of scene he'd been hoping to witness—the future patriarch of the Cavalieri family sharing an intimate moment with his chosen bride.

I lifted the glass toward my lips, prepared to play my role in this carefully choreographed dance of alliance and expectation.

"Don't drink it!"

The shout came from behind me.

I turned to see Aria rushing forward with her face pale with terror.