Mafia's Surrogate Bride Chapter 91

Aria’s POV

The warmth from the terrace felt like a distant memory as I stepped back into the glittering chaos of the evening's gala. I was no longer the same person who had fled to the terrace in confusion and fear.

I'd made my choice. I'd agreed to Antonio's offer.

"Aria!" Antonio's warm voice cut through the ambient chatter and clinking of crystal. I turned to find him approaching with Damian at his side, both men wearing expressions of cautious hope. "I was beginning to worry you'd changed your mind."

"No," I said, surprised by the steadiness in my own voice. "I haven't changed my mind."

Antonio's smile was radiant, transforming his weathered features with pure joy. In that moment, he looked less like the feared patriarch of a crime family and more like an elderly grandfather who'd just been given the greatest gift imaginable.

"Then we should make this official," he said, taking my arm with gentle reverence. "There are people I want you to meet. People who should know that you're family now."

As Antonio guided me back toward the center of the ballroom, I caught sight of Ricardo near the bar. He was straightening his tie with the casual confidence of a man who believed his secrets were safe. Our eyes met for a brief moment across the crowded room, and I saw his expression shift from mild curiosity to sudden, sharp awareness.

"Are you alright?" His voice was low, meant only for me.

"Fine," I managed, though my smile felt brittle. "Just... overwhelmed by everything."

"Ladies and gentlemen!" Antonio's voice rang out over the crowd, commanding immediate attention. Conversations died away as heads turned toward us, and I felt the weight of dozens of pairs of eyes settling on my face. "I have a very special announcement to make tonight."

My heart hammered against my ribs as Antonio raised his champagne flute high in the air.

"As many of you know, my family has experienced great loss over the years. But tonight, I am blessed to share joyous news with all of you." Antonio's voice grew thick with emotion. "This beautiful young woman standing beside me will soon be my granddaughter. Ricardo has agreed to adopt her officially, making her a Montrosso in name as well as in spirit."

The crowd erupted in polite applause, but I barely heard it over the roaring in my own ears. Ricardo stepped forward, his smile perfectly crafted for public consumption, and placed his hands on my shoulders.

"It will be an honor to call you daughter," he said, his voice carrying just the right note of paternal warmth.

The formal introductions continued in a blur of handshakes and air kisses. Ricardo presented me to what felt like half of Florence's social elite, each introduction accompanied by murmurs of approval and curiosity. I smiled until my cheeks ached, accepted congratulations with gracious nods, and tried not to think about the tangled web of secrets I was now part of.

"And now," Ricardo announced when the initial round of greetings had died down, "for the jewelry."

I blinked in confusion as he produced an elegant velvet box from his jacket pocket. The crowd pressed closer, craning their necks to get a better view as he opened it to reveal the most stunning necklace I'd ever seen.

"This belonged to my late wife," Ricardo said, his voice softer now, touched with genuine grief. "I've been saving it for the right moment, the right person. Tonight feels perfect."

The necklace was a masterpiece of white gold and diamonds, with a central stone that caught the ballroom's light and threw it back in brilliant rainbow fragments. As Ricardo lifted it from its velvet nest, I couldn't help but think how fitting it was—something so beautiful worn by a woman who'd died too young, now being passed to someone living under false pretenses.

"May I?" Ricardo asked, stepping behind me.

I nodded, lifting my hair away from my neck. The crowd watched in reverent silence as he fastened the clasp, the weight of the diamonds settling against my collarbone like a claim of ownership.

But my hands wouldn't stop shaking.

"Beautiful," Antonio breathed, his eyes bright with unshed tears. "She looks so much like—"

He stopped abruptly, the words dying on his lips. But I caught the slip, stored it away with all the other puzzle pieces that didn't quite fit together.

Like who? I wondered. Who do I look like?

"Perfect," Ricardo declared, stepping back to admire his handiwork.

The applause resumed, and champagne flutes were raised in toast after toast. But I barely tasted the expensive wine, barely heard the words of congratulation. My attention was fixed on the far side of the ballroom, where I could see Adriana Montrosso standing frozen by the grand staircase.

Her face was a mask of pure fury, her perfectly manicured hands clenched into fists at her sides. She was staring at me with such hatred that I actually took a step backward, bumping into Damian's solid frame.

"Easy," he murmured, his hand settling on my lower back with possessive warmth. "Don't let her see how much she affects you."

"Now," Antonio announced, drawing my attention back to the immediate crowd, "I have one final surprise for this evening."

He gestured toward the small stage at the front of the ballroom, where a elegantly dressed woman was adjusting the microphone. I recognized her from various charity galas—Signora Benedetti, head of the Florence Children's Hospital Foundation.

"As you all know, the Montrosso family has always been committed to supporting worthy causes in our community," Antonio continued. "Tonight, in honor of my new granddaughter, I'd like to announce a significant donation to the Children's Hospital Foundation."

My breath caught in my throat. There was something about the way he said it, something about the timing, that made my pulse race with sudden, impossible hope.

"Specifically," Antonio's voice carried clearly across the silent ballroom, "we're establishing the Isabella Memorial Fund for Pediatric Kidney Research, with an initial donation of two million euros."

Isabella. The name he'd started to say when he looked at me wearing the necklace.

Pediatric Kidney Research.

Jessica.

The world tilted around me, and I had to grab Damian's arm to keep from falling. Through the rushing in my ears, I dimly heard Signora Benedetti taking the microphone, thanking the Montrosso family for their generosity, explaining how the research would help children like those currently receiving treatment at Sant'Anna Hospital.

Children like my sister.

The applause was thunderous, but I barely heard it. Tears were streaming down my cheeks, and I didn't care who saw them.

But even as joy flooded through me, I caught sight of movement in my peripheral vision. A small group of servants was approaching the stage area, led by a woman whose face I recognized from earlier in the evening.

Benedetta Russo. The head housekeeper. The woman I'd seen in Ricardo's passionate embrace less than an hour ago.

She was directing the service staff with quiet efficiency, but when her gaze fell on me—on me wearing the diamonds, standing in the center of the family circle, being celebrated as the newest Montrosso—her expression shifted to something I couldn't quite interpret.

Shock, certainly. But there was something else beneath it, something that looked almost like... recognition?

Our eyes met across the ballroom, and I watched her face go through a series of rapid changes..

Oh no, I thought with sudden, heart-stopping clarity. She knows. She knows who I really am.

Damian must have felt the change in my posture, because his hand tightened on my back and he leaned down to whisper in my ear.

"What is it?"

I wanted to tell him. But the words stuck in my throat as I watched Benedetta Russo approach us with the slow, measured steps of someone walking toward their own execution.

Behind me, I could hear Antonio and Ricardo discussing the logistics of the adoption paperwork, their voices warm with satisfaction and planning. In front of me, Adriana was still staring with that expression of betrayed fury. And approaching from the side, Benedetta drew closer with each second, her face a mask of professional composure that didn't quite hide the panic in her eyes.

She knows something, I realized with growing certainty.