Sofia Morales is a struggling actress, juggling endless auditions while working as an escort to wealthy clients. Though her dream of stardom feels increasingly out of reach, she refuses to give up. But here comes Rios Alcaraz, a ruthless and enigmatic Mafia boss with no interest in marriage. But when his father pressures him to marry Beatrice Sandoval, the heiress of a powerful family, Rios devises a bold plan: hire someone to play the perfect girlfriend and keep the wedding bells at bay. Sofia, with her beauty, charm, and talent for pretending, becomes his first and only choice. But what starts as a business arrangement quickly spirals into a dangerous game of deception. As Sofia steps into Rios's treacherous world of power, secrets, and lies, she realizes that the line between acting and reality is dangerously thin—and playing the Mafia boss’s girlfriend might cost her more than just her heart.
Lihat lebih banyakSOFIA’s POV
Since the restaurant opened this morning, I hadn’t had a second to breathe. I moved like an acrobat—pacing the room with both hands and balancing trays, my mind constantly reminding my feet to avoid slipping on the tiled floor.
By the time the clock crept toward a quarter to twelve, the place had erupted into a war zone. Orders flew in, and customers endlessly waved for attention. Their hunger was seemingly commanding their brains to be impatient. My skin itched just by looking at their sulky lips and bored faces. Normally, every staff in Lorenzo’s Restaurant would be happy to receive so many costumers, but when you’re waiting tables to rude patrons, it would only make you wish for your shift to end already.
The kitchen’s aromas had found their way onto my uniform. I scrunched my face upon realizing that. I spent an hour doing my hair, only to expose it to the greasy scent of garlic butter and grilled meat.
But a 24-year-old woman like me, with no prospects, had to endure this kind of lowly life so I could provide for my family in the province. And while Manila was considered a city of opportunity, no one could deny that living here would mean you need determination and bravery to avoid getting swallowed by the intensity of the lifestyle.
I was dropping off an order when a sharp shriek cut through the restaurant. People turned toward the sound, but no one moved to check. My gaze flicked to the counter, hoping my coworker Danilo would go see what was happening. But he only shrugged, silently dumping the responsibility onto me.
Despite the restaurant drawing in plenty of customers, the management hadn’t bothered to increase staff. Working with me today were Danilo, the cashier and overall runner, and Mike, who was in the back grilling meat. My name’s Sofia, the curvy waitress. Not a nickname I gave myself—our customers did.
I shot Danilo a glare before heading toward the commotion near the entrance. A little girl in an elementary school uniform was struggling to pull away from a towering, six-foot-tall, foreign-looking man. He was wearing a polo shirt and ragged jeans. I couldn’t picture his face well because I was nearsighted. But he wasn’t saying anything, and the little girl seemed determined to break free. Before I could think, I was already moving.
“Sweetheart!” I called, forcing a bright, familiar smile. “There you are! I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
The girl stared up at me, her doe eyes wide with confusion. I silently urged her to play along. Finally, she caught on and launched herself at me, clinging to my torso like a tiny monkey.
“Is this man bothering you?” I asked, turning to face him.
A beat passed, and I almost choked on my saliva upon seeing his face up close. ‘
Holy… shit… The man was beautiful—the kind of beautiful that should be illegal. His mixed foreign and Filipino features were striking. That sharp jawline. Those high cheekbones. Those bluish eyes seemed to see straight through me. His gaze flicked between me and the little girl, his head tilting slightly.
“W-what are you doing to my niece?” I stammered, trying to ignore both his allure and the expensive cologne that now surrounded me. I planted a hand on my hip as if I were a Filipina mother scolding an unruly son. “What are you thinking? Kidnapping a kid in broad daylight? And of all places, in a restaurant?”
My confidence grew as I leaned into the lie, determined to save this girl from whatever revulsion this ridiculously handsome man was planning. To my absolute horror, he only smirked!
But that smirk should come with a warning sign. It only sent the butterflies in my stomach into a whirlpool of emotions.
“Do you really believe I’m kidnapping that child?”
Dear God, even his voice was soft and low. The kind you hear in steamy audio recordings that make you imagine things. I forced myself to stay composed despite the erratic beating of my heart. “You’re holding a child against her will! What else am I supposed to think?”
As if on cue, the little girl tugged at my uniform, signaling for me to bend down. “What is it?” I asked gently.
“He wants me to go to the arcade several blocks from here,” she whispered, the fabric conditioner in her clothes lightly brushing my nose. “But I want to eat spaghetti first.”
I clenched my jaw. Are you kidding me?
“See?” Turning to the man and feeling the heat on my cheeks. “You’re forcing a little girl to do things! I say, get out of this restaurant before I call security.”
But instead of looking rattled, he laughed. Laughed! Like this was all some joke to him.
“Is there something funny about what I said?” I asked loudly, trying to drown the twisting motion happening in my gut as I heard that laugh.
I’d been around wealthy men because of my other job as an escort, and I could always tell their status by the way they laughed at people. This man—with his expensive air, controlled amusement, and dangerously rich chuckle—was indeed trouble.
His eyes glinted. “Sofia.”
I sucked in a breath. I could never deny how his gaze affected my sense of self. I felt myself drowning as I tried to mask my emotions. Also, how the hell did he know my name?
“Don’t you know who I am?” He asked as if that information was too important.
“Do I need to?” I huffed.
He nodded toward the girl. “Why don’t you ask her?” And with his smirk that hinted arrogance, coupled with that irritating, expensive chuckle of his, he added. “I am the uncle.”
Frowning, I gently cupped the child’s cheeks, smoothing down her baby bangs. “Do you actually know this man?”
The girl sighed dramatically, rolling her eyes like I was the dumbest person alive. “Yes, I know him. But he’s sooo annoying.”
Oh. Oh, no…
I could feel myself sinking into utter humiliation as I stared at the kid, her wide-eyed gaze reflecting mine. I had just accused this ridiculously handsome man of kidnapping a child when, in fact, he was actually her uncle!
I slowly stood up and then turned back to him. His gaze remained steady as I swallowed my pride and tried to salvage my dignity. “I… I see,” I stammered.
One dark eyebrow lifted. “I think it’s time for you to apologize, Miss Sofia.”
My brows furrowed. Apologize? If anyone was to blame, it was his niece for not clarifying things sooner!
“Well, you looked suspicious. I just did what I had to do to help a struggling child.”
His smirk widened. “Did you?”
“Yes! Besides, you were just… standing there.” I gestured vaguely at him. “All serious and intimidating… gripping the child and …”
Making me say stupid things.
“Can we eat now, Uncle? I still want spaghetti. I don’t want to go to another restaurant. I want to eat here at Lorenzo’s.”
The man sighed. “All right. When you do that, you sound exactly like your mother.”
I took their uncle-niece conversation as my cue to escape. “Very well,” I said, plastering a forced smile. “I—I’ll leave you to it… s-sir,” I added, turning on my heel. My knees wobbled as I swallowed my embarrassment.
“Wait.”
His voice stopped me cold. I turned back slowly, meeting his eyes once more.
“I’ll be seeing you again, Miss Sofia.”
Hearing that, a slow, creeping shiver ran down my spine. The question that had been haunting me instantly leaped from my mouth. “H-how did you know my name?”
He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he lifted an eyebrow, looking amused—like I was missing something obvious. Then I saw it. My nameplate. Right! Way to go. I was getting stupider by the second.
But the way he said my name sent a prickling unease within me. It didn’t feel like a simple statement. It was more like a promise to see each other again.
I forced myself to turn away, walking stiffly and pretending I wasn’t rattled—even though I was. Because deep down, I felt that this man, whoever the hell he was, was going to be the cause of my distress.
Rios walked beside his wife and felt like he was leading a queen into the throng of people beneath the stairs. Her delicate hand rested lightly on his arm, and the mask simmering under the ballroom lights hid the bruises on her pretty face. He had managed to convince her to come with him to this last event of the annual tribunal, and he was prouder than ever to call her his. The silk of her gown clung beautifully to her curves, and—God, her eyes—were the only thing in the room that kept him grounded. He had seen many beautiful women. He had watched them crawl through diamonds and power, but Sofia had that gaze that automatically pulled every eye in the room. Just like what was happening now. As they stepped into the masquerade, everyone turned. Even the big Mafia bosses nodded at every step they took. They were looking at her. He felt proud of his wife, but his fingers still tensed against her arm. Every fucking one of them seemed to be undressing her—and not even pretending they we
SOFIA’S POVThe sheets felt like velvet against my raw skin, but every movement sent sparks of pain shooting up my ribs.Violet bruises were still decorating my arms, and deep purple and sickly yellow could be seen in some areas of my thighs and face. These were souvenirs from Beatrice's goons before the duel. And when I fought with Beatrice, my lower lip was split and felt tender to the touch. One eye still refused to open fully. It still looked puffed and angry that I refused to look at the mirror. Other bruises had also started to bloom darkly over my ribs and arms, purpling my thighs, and feathering my jawline. I barely recognized myself.And I remembered.I remembered the girl who used to flinch from her own reflection. The girl with the crooked, ugly nose, and the girl whose cheek had been carved by a childhood accident. I left my hometown and found a guy who financed my whims, then I had surgeries later. Back then, before the surgical operation, I hated every inch of my face.
A voice thundered from the head of the tribunal table. "You are given a choice. Become officially part of the Mafia or—"But before the threat could settle, Sofia’s voice cut through the thick, suffocating air. "No," she said sharply as her fists clenched at her sides. "I just did what I needed to do."Sasha looked over her shoulder, locking eyes with Aunt Rita as they listened to Sofia's voice filling the place. Sasha felt a knot forming in her stomach. Why would Sofia turn down an offer that would surely shield her against the Sandovals’ wrath? Just earlier, Sofia had survived the duel against that spoiled Mafia heiress, Beatrice. The bitch was finally dead—not by their hands, but it didn’t matter. Rios’s contract wife had done it for them. Relief flickered in Sasha’s chest, but it tangled with a gnawing worry. Surely, Beatrice’s death was bound to blow up the tension between the Sandovals and their family. Across the field, Rios was already leading Sofia out, cradling her like she
SOFIA’s POVI woke up in a cell. Concrete walls, gray and sweating with cold, welcomed my vision. When I looked around, I only saw a single steel bed bolted to the floor. There was also one toilet in the corner. It was clean, but rust was forming around its edges. My wrists were chained to the wall, heavy and short enough that I couldn’t sit up straight. Also, my face throbbed. Each pulse sent a sharp and steady ache in my jaw and my cheekbones. I then remembered the two men in masks. Their knuckles cracked before they landed their blows. They made sure to knock the breath out of me, again and again, until all I could do was gasp and fade. Then I remembered the wooden box after that. I felt I was floating before fading out again.And now, I was in a cell.“Help!” I shouted. “Somebody… help me!” But only the echoes of my voice answered my call.Suddenly, the metal door creaked. I flinched and felt a slight relief upon seeing my husband.“Oh, babe,” he whispered as he stepped inside, c
Once everyone was seated, the room fell into silence as Rios stepped into the circle. Torchlight flickered off the walls, and only the rustle of papers and the waves outside could be heard. At the center of the round table, the thick and almost ancient Secret Ledger lay unopened. Rios placed his palm on the book, and one by one, the bosses rose from their high-backed chairs, their footsteps echoing as they moved to perform the ritual before formally going into session.Kenji Takahashi bowed stiffly before placing his hand on the cover. Rika followed quickly. Next to her was Vittorino Mancini, who muttered something in Italian under his breath and kissed two fingers before pressing them to the spine of the book. Luca Bellanti grunted and followed suit. Then Gabriel Fonseca approached slowly, crossed himself, and whispered a blessing that sounded more like a curse because of his language. Meanwhile, Catalina Cabrerra didn't speak.Beatrice Sandoval placed her hand on the Ledger next, s
Each major international Mafia Boss was required by the Ledger to bring one allied or subordinate family into the Tribunal. Each ally would serve as a witness and backup power. Rios recalled that there would be ten power seats from the active circle, which were the five global syndicate leaders and their invited family bosses.Not long after, the esteemed bosses were arriving one by one.“Firipin e okaerinasai,” greeted Rios as he and Kenji Takahashi bowed formally toward each other. The serious man, whose voice was soft but always made Rios nervous, had come all the way from Osaka, Japan. Takahashi was a former enforcer in the Yamaguchi-gumi syndicate, but had risen as the leader of his own splinter group. He didn’t talk much, but when it came to business, he was always eager to share how he grew his empire, which was through tech, crypto laundering, and, of course, his brutal efficiency. He was known as the kind of man who eliminated rivals before they even spoke. The Japanese man w
Rios stood in front of the grand hall where his private meetings with the Mafia were often held. The sound of the waves outside the building called loudly, but the silence only drowned out the impending excitement.In about three hours, the Mafia Tribunal would be held on this private island in Batangas. His family called the venue Taal Island Fortress—a private ancestral estate on a volcanic island in the country. For years, the Alcaraz family had owned such an esteemed, secluded place that could only be reached by chopper or private boat. No wonder it had been one of the places the Sandoval family had been eyeing.Rios heaved a nervous sigh. The annual Tribunal required each Mafia Boss to bring at least one prominent Mafia family from their turf. In the Philippines, only the Alcarazes and the Sandovals controlled most of the regions. It automatically meant Rios had to bring the Sandovals with him. The invitations had been sent. Somewhere deep in his mind, he hoped and prayed none of
SOFIA’s POVRios left before the sun came up, but not before giving me a look like he didn’t want to get in his car.“Hugo will take care of you,” he whispered, pulling me in for a lingering kiss before finally stepping inside.Jestoni, Valeria, and Kyle followed in the second car. He had to bring them since it was the annual event for all the prominent Mafia members in the country. Plus, he’d need backup, especially since the Alcaraz family was hosting. He didn’t tell me where it was, but Valeria slipped it to me yesterday. She said they would be heading to Taal Island Fortress, a volcanic island in Batangas. The Alcaraz family had owned the island for decades, making it a venue for the private affairs in their business.A few minutes after they left, the driver Rios had arranged showed up. I was hauled into the car with my three-day luggage. No matter how many times I said I was fine being left alone in the house, Rios wouldn’t listen.Hugo’s place was maybe twenty minutes from the
Madam Carrie walked towards the huge building located in a secluded place in Manila. It had been exactly a week since she received the memorandum from Rios Alcaraz that told her she would no longer be his personal advisor, but she had been upgraded to Head Mistress of his facility.She scoffed, her chest tightening with anger and frustration as she recalled the content of the memo. Some lawyer explained it to her, and the compensation was thrice as big as she earned in her own whorehouse. But it wasn’t the content that angered her. It was the fact that Rios hadn’t visited her since he came to her almost a month ago, complaining about some woman. She would’ve appreciated it if Rios had been the one to deliver the news. She would’ve appreciated it even more if she had been invited to his wedding. Some wedding—bah! Who would’ve believed the scum would marry? Still, she was genuinely happy for him, but felt sorry for the girl.“Madame, this way please.”A voice pulled her from her though
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