Forced To Be The Mafia King's Bride (by Oma Green) novel Chapter 175

Dante's POV

The private jet began its descent into Nice with the kind of smooth approach money could buy. From there, we would drive to the villa just outside Monaco.

I stared out the window at the tarmac below, the Mediterranean gleaming in the distance.

The villa belonged to my uncle, and I had not been there in years. The last time I had set foot in that place, Esmeralda had been alive. We had spent two weeks there, just the three of us. Arielle had been nine, running through the gardens while Esme chased her, both of them laughing. The memory felt like it belonged to someone else now, like I was watching it happen to a different man.

This was the first vacation I had taken since she died. The first time I had allowed myself to step away from the empire, from the constant weight of responsibility that came with running a criminal organization. And I was spending it with a wife who barely looked at me.

The flight had been torture. Gianna sat across from me, looking as beautiful as always. Her hair fell in loose waves over her shoulders.

She had changed into a simple linen dress that somehow made her look even more stunning. But she had not spoken to me, not once during the entire flight. She stared out her window, read her book, or pretended to sleep just to avoid conversation.

I had tried asking if she wanted a drink, if she was comfortable, or if she needed anything. Despite my attempts, she gave me one-word, polite responses that felt more distant than silence. By the time we began our descent, I had given up.

The goodbye with Arielle had been harder than I expected. She had clung to me at the door, making me promise to bring her back something special. I wondered if I was making a mistake leaving her behind, but her grandparents had her, and Alfonso was there with enough security to guard a president. I told them to call if anything went wrong and promised I would be on the first flight back.

Bruno and Mira were on the plane with us. Bruno would handle security while we were there, and Mira would keep Gianna company, hopefully helping bridge the gap I could not seem to cross. I needed this vacation more than I wanted to admit, to step away from the chaos, the constant threats, and the never-ending demands of running an empire built on blood and violence.

My daughter was right. Things needed to get better between Gianna and me. But they were only going to improve if she trusted me, and I was not going to force it. I had promised myself that much.

The cabin door opened, and warm Mediterranean air flooded in. I grabbed my jacket and walked to where Gianna was gathering her sunglasses and phone.

"Ready?"

She nodded without looking at me. Perfect.

The cabin crew appeared, handling our luggage, while Bruno and Mira stood and gathered their own things.

We descended the stairs together, and I held Gianna's hand as we stepped down.

She glanced at me then and smiled softly before looking around, clearly captivated by the view.

At the bottom, Elio stood waiting beside a sleek black Mercedes, his salt-and-pepper hair slicked back. Beside him was a younger man with broad shoulders, clearly security, someone I did not recognize.

Elio had been my uncle's head of security for over two decades, but we had our own relationship, separate from my uncle. Years ago, I had helped Elio out of a situation that would have cost him everything. He owed me one, and he had never forgotten it. Despite working for my uncle, his loyalty to me ran deep.

He stepped forward, extending his hand. "Don. Good to see you."

"Elio." I shook his hand. "It's been too long."

"Over five years at least." He gestured to the younger man beside him, built like a tank. "This is Paolo. He will be assisting with personal security during your stay."

Paolo nodded respectfully. "Don. At your service."

"The drive is about forty minutes," Elio said, gesturing to the car. "Traffic permitting. We've arranged for lunch to be ready when you arrive."

"Perfect."

Paolo opened the back door, and I guided Gianna inside. She slid across the leather seat, and I followed, the door closing behind us with a soft click.

Bruno and Mira climbed into the second car behind us. Elio got into the front passenger seat while Paolo took the wheel.

The drive took us along the coast, past luxury hotels and yacht-filled harbors, through towns that looked like postcards come to life. Gianna's face was turned toward the window, watching the landscape blur past as the sun caught her hair and turned it golden.

I wanted to reach for her hand and close the distance between us on the seat.

Instead, I found myself watching her, the way her eyes widened at the view, the small smile playing on her lips, the way she seemed to relax for the first time in days.

Maybe this was what we needed. Distance from everything, just us, the ocean, and time to figure out what the hell we were doing.

Movement in the side mirror caught my eye. Two black SUVs came up fast behind us, weaving through traffic with purpose.

My entire body went on alert.

"Elio." My voice came out low but clear. "Two cars are following behind us."