Forced To Be The Mafia King's Bride (by Oma Green) novel Chapter 188

Gianna's POV

"It turned out to be nothing serious," I lied, hating how hollow my voice sounded.

Mira didn't buy it. I could tell from the silence. But she let it go. "I'm just glad you're both safe."

The attendant moved to work on my calves, her strong fingers pressing into the muscles there.

I let myself focus on the sensation, the warmth of the oil, anything but the conversation.

"Enough about me," I said, desperate to change the subject. "What about you and Bruno? Have you two spoken?"

Mira let out a long breath. I heard her attendant ask her to turn over, the rustle of the sheet as she adjusted.

"Not really."

"Mira..."

"He's still pissed about the whole secret passage thing," she said quietly. "Not at you. He doesn't blame you. But he blames himself for telling me. For trusting me with something that could've gotten you killed."

Guilt washed over me. "I'm sorry. I never meant to..."

"You've apologized a hundred times," she cut me off gently. "And I've told you just as many times, it's not your fault. You were desperate. You wanted out. I don't blame you for using what you knew."

"But my actions separated you both."

"What's going on between us is bigger than that night," Mira huffed. "It's been hanging over our heads for years. You just helped speed things up. And honestly, it's better this way."

I frowned, finally turning my head to look at her. "How do you mean?"

Her eyes were closed, her face relaxed under the attendant's hands.

"Bruno and I want different things. We were always going to break up eventually. Better now, so I can move on, than later when it's even more painful."

My chest ached for her. The attendant asked me to turn over, and I did, staring up at the ceiling as she began working on my arms.

"I'm sorry to hear that. But you two were so in love. He loves you, Mira. Anyone can see that."

"I guess it's true what they say." Her voice went quiet. "Sometimes love isn't enough."

The words hit me harder than they should have. I understood that better than anyone. But deep down, with Dante, I hoped desperately that maybe it could be. That love could be enough if we just tried.

Warm oil drizzled across my collarbone, and the attendant's hands began working the tension from my neck and shoulders. I closed my eyes again.

"I understand better than anyone. But when you say you and Bruno want different things, what does that really mean?"

"Well." Mira shifted on her table, and I heard the soft sound of hands gliding over oil-slicked skin.

"Bruno has served as Dante's right-hand man for as long as I can remember, and he's not prepared to pursue any other life outside that. It's all he knows. All he wants to know."

"But can't the two coexist?" I asked. The attendant moved to my temples now, her fingers gentle as she worked in small circles.

"I mean, my dad had guards who had families. Why is it different?"

"Bruno wants his first loyalty to be with Dante. Always. And he feels like if he has a family, we'd be vulnerable. Easy targets. He wouldn't be home all the time to protect us, and if something happened..."

She trailed off. "He's seen too much, Gianna. He's watched too many men in this life lose their families because they weren't there when it mattered. He doesn't want to risk it."

I was quiet for a moment, absorbing that. The attendant finished with my face and moved back down to my hands, massaging each finger individually. I understood the fear. God knew I understood it. This world was brutal and unforgiving. But still...

"I'm rooting for you both," I said softly. "Maybe you can't figure it all out at once, but with time, maybe things will change. Maybe he'll see there's a way to have both."

"I think this is the end," Mira's voice trembled in a way that broke my heart.

"I'm done being a secret. Waiting for him to come around. I want a family, Gianna. A husband whose loyalty to me comes first. To our children. I want a life outside this world, and Bruno... he'll never leave it. He's married to the famiglia. Always will be."

The attendants stepped back, their work finished. The sudden absence of touch left me feeling cold despite the warmth of the oil on my skin.

I reached my hand out across the small space between our tables, and she took it.

"I understand," I whispered.

"I'm sorry."

And I did, more than she probably realized.

"I've decided to let him go and find someone who wants the same things I do."

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify