Chapter 3 You're A Mafia Lord

• The drive to Alexander’s mansion was painfully quiet.
• Not awkward or tense. Just… quiet.
• Amelia sat by the window with her hands resting on her lap, absentmindedly staring at the city lights speeding past the tinted glass. Beside her, Alexander looked just as detached, his attention fixed on his phone for most of the ride.
• Neither of them seemed interested in forcing conversation. Honestly, after being shoved into a marriage neither of them wanted, small talk would’ve felt ridiculous.
• Still, Amelia found herself sneaking quick glances at him when she thought he wouldn’t notice.
• He looked even colder outside the church. The suit jacket was gone now, hanging loosely over his arm while the top buttons of his shirt sat undone slightly, like he was already tired of pretending to be composed.
• And annoyingly enough, the man was attractive. Amelia quickly looked away before she got caught staring.
• Unfortunately for her…
• “I can feel you judging me from over there.”
• Her eyes widened slightly before she turned toward him. Alexander was still staring at his phone.
• “You’re imagining things.”
• A faint smirk touched his lips. “So you always stare at strangers for free?”
• Amelia rolled her eyes quietly. “You stopped being a stranger the moment the priest traumatized both of us.”
• That earned a low chuckle from him.
• When the car finally pulled into the compound, Amelia’s eyes lifted slowly toward the mansion.
• Huge was an understatement.
• The place looked less like a home and more like a luxury hotel hidden behind tall gates. The fountain outside alone probably cost more than her father’s entire house.
• Still, she couldn’t even admire it properly. Her chest still felt too heavy for that.
• Before the driver could open the door for her, Alexander was already out of the car, loosening his tie as he walked toward the entrance without waiting.
• Amelia stared at his back. “Wow,” she muttered under her breath. “Such gentlemanly behavior.”
• To her surprise, he paused mid-step. Then glanced back at her. “You looked like you wanted space.”
• Then he disappeared inside. Amelia blinked once before letting out the tiniest laugh despite herself.
• A woman dressed in a neat black uniform approached her almost immediately.
• “Mrs. Ron,” the woman greeted politely with a small bow. “I’ll show you to your room.”
• The name still sounded foreign.
• Amelia adjusted the sleeve of her dress awkwardly. “You can just call me Amelia.”
• The woman smiled kindly. “Sir wouldn’t like that.”
• Amelia sighed dramatically. “Your sir sounds stressful.”
• The woman pressed her lips together, clearly trying not to laugh. And honestly, that tiny reaction made Amelia feel a little better.
• At least someone in this house had emotions.
• She followed the woman upstairs quietly until they stopped in front of a large bedroom.
• The moment Amelia stepped inside, she paused. The room was beautiful. Warm lighting. Cream walls. Large windows overlooking the city.
• “Sir had it prepared this morning,” the woman explained softly.
• Amelia blinked. Prepared? For her?
• After the woman left, Amelia walked toward the closet to unpack her luggage but stopped when she saw the closet was already filled.
• Filled with designer dresses. Shoes. Bags. Clothes in her exact size.
• She stared for a long moment before muttering. “This man is either terrifyingly organized or mildly insane.”
• Probably both.
• Too mentally exhausted to think anymore, Amelia grabbed a towel and headed into the bathroom. A quick shower helped calm her nerves slightly.
• After changing into shorts and an oversized top, she tied her damp hair into a ponytail and sat at the edge of the bed quietly.
• Everything still felt unreal.
• This marriage. A new house. A new name. A husband she met barely twelve hours ago.
• She still didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
• A knock interrupted her thoughts. Amelia considered ignoring it. But when the knock came again, she sighed and stood up.
• Opening the door, she found one of the staff standing outside politely.
• “Mrs. Ron, sir asked to see you in his study.”
• Amelia resisted the urge to ask whether “sir” ever relaxed. Instead, she nodded. “Lead the way.”
• The study sat at the far end of the hallway. The staff knocked once before opening the door for her.
• Alexander sat behind a dark wooden desk, sleeves rolled slightly past his wrists while a file rested open in front of him.
• The room matched him perfectly. Dark shelves. Dim lighting. His eyes lifted the moment she walked in.
• And annoyingly, her stomach did a tiny flip. Amelia hated that immediately.
• “Sit,” he said calmly.
• Amelia crossed her arms lightly. “You know, adding ‘please’ won’t kill you.”
• For a second, Alexander simply stared at her before saying. “It physically pains me.”
• Amelia blinked before laughing softly.
• Alexander leaned back slightly in his chair, watching her carefully. And strangely enough, hearing her laugh eased something in his chest too.
• She looked different when she smiled. Less guarded. Less sad.
• Amelia finally sat across from him, tucking one leg beneath herself slightly.
• “So,” she said, glancing around the room. “This is where you hide bodies?”
• Alexander looked mildly offended. “I’m offended you think I’d hide them in my own house.”
• “You’re a mafia man.”
• A corner of his lips lifted briefly. Interesting.
• Alexander reached for a file before sliding it across the desk toward her. “Contract.”
• ____