I Faked an Affair on My Mafia Husband ,Now He Won’t Let Me Go Chapter 06

I Faked an Affair on My Mafia Husband ,Now He Won’t Let Me Go Chapter 06

His hand rested on my throat. Not squeezing hard—just there. A hint of pressure.

He looked down at me. “But wanting to leave me for garbage? That won’t do. If you do something wrong, you still get punished.”

I was trembling. Could barely speak. Like he’d hypnotized me. All I could do was echo: “H-how?”

He traced the three moles again, one after another.

I shook and begged.

He just watched. Waited until I begged twice more, until tears leaked from the corners of my eyes. Then he sighed—like he was forgiving me for everything—and kissed me deeper.

—

“DING-DONG. DING-DONG. DING-DONG.”

The doorbell.

Lorenzo ignored it, tried to keep going.

A minute later, someone knocked on the bedroom door.

“Vieve? It’s your sister! De Luca, are you in there too?” Beatrice’s voice—worried, urgent.

Lorenzo’s grip on the sheets went white-knuckled. He sucked in a deep breath. His face was terrible.

He closed his eyes. Tried to pull himself together.

Is it because he finally sees his real crush? I smiled bitterly. Stupid heart, hurting when it had no right to. After everything the past few days… maybe I’d let myself have some stupid, baseless hope.

“Vieve?”

Bea knocked harder. When nobody answered, she tried the handle.

I panicked—my door lock’s been broken for ages!

“Don’t open it!” Lorenzo called out. “We’ll be out in a minute. Wait in the living room.” He pulled the covers up to cover me.

“…Okay.”

—

I got dressed and sat next to Bea.

Feeling inexplicably guilty.

Lorenzo sat in a side chair, legs spread wide, one hand drumming on the armrest. He took a deep breath every few seconds, like he was trying to calm down.

“Bea. Why are you back?”

Bea coughed. This was hard for her to say. “Actually… I wasn’t on a third anniversary trip. I was traveling alone.”

“What?” I blinked.

Bea hesitated.

“Miss Conti,” Lorenzo said, jaw tight. “Just say what you came to say.”

Bea looked at her hands. “Vieve… I got divorced.”

I stared at her. And suddenly, I knew why she was here.

Bea pulled the trampled separation agreement out of her bag and put it on the table.

“I wasn’t sure at first. But when I saw this… I had to say something.”

She looked at Lorenzo. “De Luca. I ran away and broke the engagement. That was my fault. I owe you. So I’ll marry you to make up for it. Just let my sister go.”

My heart skipped a beat.

This should be good news. The real deal shows up, and naturally, he’ll trade in the stand-in.

So why do I feel…?

I looked at them—Lorenzo and Bea, staring at each other in silence.

I should be happy, shouldn’t I?

I dropped my gaze and hid my expression.

Long silence.

Then Lorenzo: “What?”

Bea: “Please divorce my sister.”

Lorenzo: “No.”

My head snapped up.

His face was blank. “Both sisters marrying me one after another? You want everyone from Philly to New York to ask if the De Lucas can’t find any other women?”

Bea: “I have foreign citizenship now and I’m still using my married name. As long as I don’t show my face, nobody will connect us.”

Lorenzo: “…”

Bea pushed the separation agreement closer. “De Luca, please sign it. Let me pay back what I owe you. Don’t torture my sister anymore.”

Lorenzo: “Torture?”

He laughed—a broken, unhinged sound. He leaned forward, like the past few days had pushed him past his breaking point.

He stared at Bea with eyes like ice. “How have I tortured her? Why don’t you ask your good sister who’s been torturing who?”

His jaw was so tight his cheekbones stood out. “Why? Why the hell does everyone keep telling us to get a divorce? Fine. I forced her to marry me. I made this mess. Whatever she does to me, I deserve. But who the hell do you think you are—”

He cut himself off. Remembered Bea was my sister. Swallowed whatever he’d been about to say.

Bea froze.

I froze too.

Then Lorenzo realized he’d said too much. His eyes flickered—just for a second—before he covered it up.

But… what did he mean, he forced me to marry him?

Three years ago, it was our family’s financial crisis. My father arranged the marriage to save us.

But Bea ran off with some blond violinist she met by accident.

I was still in school. Forced to get married at the bare legal minimum – twenty years old. Married off to Lorenzo.

What does he mean, forced?