Six Months Contract With The Mafia God

A pause. Then: ”Are you certain? You were quite clear about the cancellation....”

”I’m certain. How quickly can you acquire it?”

”The supplier confirmed he can have it to me within 48 hours. I can deliver it to you Saturday morning. Before the event.”

Saturday morning.

The day of the gala.

Isabella closed her eyes, took a breath.

”Do it,” she said. ”And Catarina? This stays between us. No one else knows.

Not Enzo. Not anyone.”

”Of course. Professional discretion is guaranteed.” A pause. ”The cost has increased due to the expedited timeline. 200K total.”

”Fine. I’ll transfer the funds within the hour.”

”Understood. I’ll be in touch Saturday morning with delivery details.”

The line went dead.

Isabella set down her phone, her hands shaking now.

She’d done it.

Reactivated the order.

Committed to the plan.

Chosen her obsession over Enzo. Over her own wellbeing. Over everything.

She moved to the windows, looked out at the city.

Somewhere out there, Dimitri was with Eve. Living the life Isabella was supposed to have.

And this Saturday, at the Castellano Gala, Isabella was going to remind him of what he was missing.

Even if it destroyed her in the process.

Isabella spent the next hour transferring money to Catarina’s encrypted account, then sat at her laptop, staring at nothing.

Guilt gnawed at her chest.

Enzo’s countless confession. His heartbreak. His plea for her to stop destroying herself.

And she’d looked him in the eye, cancelled the drug order, let him believe she was trying.

Then turned around less than 24 hours later and reactivated it.

He was going to find out.

His surveillance on Catarina would pick it up. He’d know she’d lied. Know she’d chosen Dimitri over him.

And he’d be done with her.

The partnership would be over. The one person who actually cared about her wellbeing would walk away.

And she’d be alone again.

But....

But if this worked. If she managed to drug Dimitri, if he turned to her in his need, if she could remind him of the connection they were supposed to have....

Then maybe it would all be worth it.

Maybe her parents would finally be proud.

Maybe the past fourteen years wouldn’t have been wasted.

Maybe she could salvage the future she’d been promised.

Isabella knew she was lying to herself.

Knew that even if she succeeded, even if Dimitri slept with her in a drugged haze, it wouldn’t change anything.

He’d wake up furious. Betrayed. More determined than ever to destroy her.

And she’d have burned every bridge, lost every ally, sacrificed every shred of dignity.

For one night.

One desperate, pathetic attempt to hold onto a fantasy.

But she couldn’t stop herself.

Couldn’t let it go.

Because letting go meant accepting that she’d wasted fourteen years. That her parents’ expectations had been for nothing. That she was nothing more than a cautionary tale about what happened when you loved someone who would never love you back.

And Isabella Russo couldn’t accept that.

Wouldn’t accept it.

So she’d go to the gala.

She’d execute the plan.

And she’d deal with the consequences later.

Her phone buzzed. A text from Enzo.

Territory meeting is at noon. Don’t forget. We need to finalize the Belmont contracts.

Isabella stared at the message.

He was still trying. Still believing in their partnership. Still hoping she’d choose to build something with him instead of destroying herself over Dimitri.

And she was about to betray that trust completely.

She typed back: I’ll be there. See you at noon.

Then she set down her phone and let herself feel the full weight of what she was doing.

She was choosing her obsession over someone who actually cared about her.

Choosing a fantasy over reality.

Choosing destruction over healing.

And she knew it.

But she was doing it anyway.

Because some addictions were too strong to break.

Some obsessions too deep to overcome.

Some futures too precious to let go, even when they were already gone.

Isabella stood, moved to her closet, started planning what she’d wear to the gala.

She had three days.

Three days to prepare.

Three days to finalize the plan.

Three days before she either won everything or lost what little she had left.

And somewhere in the back of her mind, a small voice whispered that she was making a terrible mistake.

But Isabella silenced it.

Because she’d come too far to turn back now.

***

POV: ENZO

Enzo sat in his hotel room, staring at the notification on his phone with something close to despair.

SURVEILLANCE ALERT: CATARINA MILANO

Transaction logged: 200K wire transfer from I. Russo

Communication intercepted: ”Pharmaceutical order reactivated. Delivery confirmed Saturday 8 AM.”

She’d done it.

Less than 24 hours after promising him she’d try to move on, after canceling the drug order, after letting him believe she was choosing their partnership over her obsession....

She’d reactivated it.

Enzo set down his phone, pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes.

He shouldn’t be surprised.

Isabella had spent fourteen years preparing to be Dimitri’s wife. That kind of obsession didn’t just disappear because someone asked nicely.

Not even when that someone confessed they were in love with her.

The smart thing, the self-preserving thing would be to walk away. Cut ties. Let Isabella destroy herself without taking him down too.

He’d built the organization. Had the Volkov backing. Could run the neutral territories solo.

He didn’t need her.

Except...

Except he loved her.

Even knowing she’d never love him back. Even knowing she was willing to drug his own brother in some desperate attempt to win him. Even knowing she was self-destructing in slow motion.

He still loved her.

And that made him either the most loyal person alive or the biggest idiot.

Probably both.

Enzo stood, moved to the window, looked out at the city.

He should confront her. Should tell her he knew. Should demand she cancel the order again and actually mean it this time.

But what would that accomplish?