The Mafia's Mistaken Bride

CHICAGO.

His eyes are blue and stormy. Ocean blue eyes, just like the eyes of the men I see on TV and drool over. But his look is dark. I can barely figure out the color of his eyes until I look closer.

Everything else about him looks dark. His cardigan also has a dark hood. The look is also icy and I find myself shivering in fear when I first spotted him. I notice he has been watching my every move from the kitchen cabinet to the counter where the food is been ordered from.

I work in a local restaurant, not as a cook but as a cleaner. My job is to clean the kitchen and wash the plates from 8 am when the restaurant opens till 6 pm when my colleagues come to take over.

I have been looking for another job for over a month now because of the kind of men who come here to ogle me and the rest of the female workers.

I haven't gotten any positive feedback yet and I am on the verge of giving up. I wish I dare to tell my boss that I am not working again and then go home to sleep in bed all day without doing anything while my bills keep piling up.

Wondering why the man keeps watching me intensely like a hawk watching over its offspring, I walk over to the front counter to take off my apron and wipe my hands.

I am done with the day's job.

"Good night, Joe," I greet the cook.

"Good night, Jas," he greets back with a smile.

I grab my jacket from the hanger close to the counter and shrug it up my shoulder. I turn back to grab my purse in the drawer before strolling out and walking past the men.

Today, my attention is only on that man with dark blue eyes. He doesn't look like a regular customer. He looks strange, different, and extremely good-looking.

Too good looking to come to this type of restaurant.

He must be a rich guy but why did he come here? Why was he watching me?

Is the food today bad? Is that why he was staring with that dangerous look on his face?

I can see he also has company.

Ignoring the shivers rippling down my spine, I head out, the evening air brushing past my face.

I am wearing a pair of blue denim jeans trousers with a black t-shirt, a denim jacket, and white sneakers.

My hair is packed in a bun.

I start to walk along the gravel road, my thoughts jumbled up with several things in my mind.

My bills are piling up. I need to find another job. I also need to visit my old aunt, her health is seriously deteriorating but I can't really help.

As I continue to trot along the quiet road, someone walks past me.

At first, I think it is the man from the restaurant but when I notice he isn't with a hood, I know instantly that he isn't the one.

The man whirls around and makes his way back to me. This is when I see that he is another man from the restaurant. I have seen him in the restaurant quite a few times and he is one of the men who come to make a few passes at me.

Now, I know why I was attracted to that man with a hood. It just dawned on me now and the reason is that he is the first to come to the restaurant without saying a word to me or ogling me like the rest of the men.

He was just watching. My every move. Like an examiner.

"Hey, babe," the dirty man grins widely at me as I stop walking, fear gripping me.

The road is deserted and I still have to walk some more before getting to the main road where I can get a taxi.

I glance back toward the restaurant but there is no one in sight.

"Where are you going?" He rushes over to me when I turn back to go the way I came. Blocking me, he takes a step further and I back away until my back hits something.

A car.

Is something inside? I try to check so I can call for help.

It is tinted but I can't see anything.

"Let me go," I say calmly. I don't even know the damn man's name. His breath reeks of alcohol.

"No," he snarls and grabs my two hands, making my purse fall to the ground. He grabs my two hands and I let out a loud yelp, hoping someone will come to my rescue.

"No, baby," he turns me around, my back facing him, his hands not leaving mine as I struggle with him, my face hitting the car several times.

"Let go of me, please. Please, I beg you," I sob, wishing this isn't happening.

Instead of a sound from him, I hear footsteps as though numerous men are walking along the gravel and I continue to struggle harder but his hold is stronger.

"If I were you, I would let her go now!" A voice laced with authority roars at him from nowhere making him stop his assault on me.

He is trying to take my jacket off.

"Who the hell are you?!" He rasps out breathlessly. "She is my prey. Get lost!"

A tear drops from my eyes, wondering why the man isn't rescuing me instead of exchanging words with this insane drunk man.

My hands and face hurt from the hitting.

I wish I can see the man so I can beg him to rescue me.

But I hear no word. No sound.

The man takes off my jacket and I cry louder, struggling with him.

Suddenly, someone shoves him away, making me free from his grip. I slouch to the ground in relief and face palm myself.

"I told you to let her go!" The man's husky voice reaches my ear as he growls in anger.

A knife clicks from somewhere and I stare up sharply, my eyes wide. This is when I see him.

The man from earlier. The men from earlier. There are four in number but he stood out from the rest of them. They are all in black but he is the only one wearing a hood. I can't see his face.

One of the men gives him the knife and the next minute, my assaulter is shouting in pain and crying for help.

I watch in horror as he cuts his wrist, blood oozing out before I finally avert my gaze away from the scene.

My gaze meets with another man from his clique. He has a dark look too and his gaze is intense just like the man.

He is watching me as if we know each other from somewhere but I don't find him familiar.

"Please!" The man cries out and they all surround him.

The man in the hood rises and takes a cloth from one of his men to wipe his hands before passing the knife to him.

I look down to see my assaulter whimpering on the floor in the pool of his blood, helpless and crying.

I am not supposed to feel any sympathy for him. He almost raped me but here I am wishing this man didn't hurt him this much.

"Get rid of him," he instructs his men and my ears perk up in alert.

My heart races and I almost shout at him to let the drunken man go. The pain he is going through right now is enough to make him learn his lessons but how will I explain this tomorrow at work?

The man in the hood with the ocean blue eyes gazes up at me slowly, his shoulders up confidently like a boss.

Slowly, our eyes interlock and I see his whole face now. A well-defined beard graces his jawline. He continues to give me that same look from earlier.

"Let's go," he motions to a car nearby but my head says otherwise.

He is a stranger. Probably a killer.

I can't go with him.

My heart thumps wildly in my ribcage like it will soon burst out of my chest.

Instead of following him behind as he approaches the car he pointed to, I take to my heels in the opposite direction.

She changed her hair color so I wouldn't recognize her but she was wrong. I can recognize her without looking at her face. I can identify her with her skin color and shape. I have a lot of ways to identify her.

Changing her hair color is a stupid thing to do. She thinks I will fall for it and assume she is someone else.

Andre has red hair but she changed it into straight black hair.

That red hair was one of the things that attracted me to her in the first place. But she humiliated me. She disappeared into thin air while I was patiently waiting at the altar for my bride to show up.

I didn't come to Chicago for anything. I came back for her and we are leaving for New York City tonight.

I watch as my men run after her. She keeps glancing back till they catch up with her.

Leaning on the car, I continue to watch them drag her back and shove her forward till she is right in front of me.

My gaze finally leaves hers. I shift it to meet Ethan's cold look. Suddenly, I punch his face and she gasps, looking scared shit again just like she looked a few minutes ago when I cut that bastard's wrist.

"No one hurts my woman. No one is allowed to hurt her except me. Understood?" The rest of the men look shocked until I growl out in anger.

Andre seems shocked as well. Her chest is heaving up and down.

"I asked you to get her, not hurt her," I point towards Ethan. He is my right-hand man and he ought to know what I want and what I don't want. He was the one who shoved her toward me.

"Get lost now!"

They all disperse quickly while two of them remain. They take the other car while Chase opens the car behind me and gets into the driver's seat before opening the door for us to get it.

Left with Andre, I take off my hood and fold my arms to scrutinize her carefully.

Something is missing.

That look. That wicked glint is no longer evident in her eyes.

The hair color isn't the only difference between them.

This Andre has suddenly become cool-headed and not fiery and stubborn. She looks calm and timid.

She tucks the fallen pleats of her hair behind her ears and smiles nervously. "Hi."

I do not say anything. "Thank you for saving me. I don't know him from anywhere, he just showed up from nowhere…"

"Andre….," I cut her short.

This is Andre. She used to be a chatterbox.

She raises a brow with confusion skating her expression. "Andre?"

"Andre Moore, the same woman who left me at the altar eleven months ago and came to hide her in Chicago of all places."

Her confusion intensified but I care less. She is good at acting. She once told me she wanted to go to an acting school but her parents wouldn't allow her.

"Who are you talking about, sir?" Her hands tremble but she quickly hides them by holding both hands together.

This is the right time that I am supposed to let it all out. The pent-up anger. The frustrations. The humiliation.

"You think I am a fool?" I yell, unable to control my anger. "You think I wouldn't find you? Do you think you can hide from me forever? Who the hell do you think you are?"

Her trembling increases and she tries to balk away but I grab her arms. "Where do you think you are going?"

"I'm so...sorry. I don't know what you are talking about," she stutters, her face red and a tear rolling down her eyes.

I won't fall for this.

She knows how much I hate liars and people who pretend. She knows this yet she is doing this. She is lying and pretending to be someone else.

I let go of her and wicked laughter leaves my mouth. "You don't know what I am talking about?"

She shakes her head, unable to reply to me.

I nod. "Good. Get into the car."

"What?!" She exclaims rather loudly and I arch a brow at her.

"You heard me, get into the car!" I order with implacable authority.

Without any arguments, she takes giddy baby steps toward the open door and enters. I flop in beside her, a deep sigh of relief escaping my mouth.

This is it. It's time for my revenge.

"Who are you?" I question her, giving her the liberty to lie all she can till she is tired of lying.

She is not going to suffer only for the humiliations she caused me, she is also going to suffer for lying to me.

I hear her heave a deep sigh. "I'm Jasmine. Jasmine Cooper."

"Jasmine?" I snap my head towards her. She nods, avoiding eye contact with me now.

I shift my gaze to her dress. "Roll it up."

"What?" She asks in confusion.

"Roll up your jacket," I utter firmly, my gaze not leaving her hand. I just need one more piece of evidence of knowing that she is truly the woman I have despised for eleven months who couldn't balk out of the arranged marriage like an adult would do but instead did a childish thing by running off and leaving me to face the consequences of her actions.

She left her home, her parents, and her real-life to come here all because she doesn't want a lifetime with me.

What more could be painful for a man like me who had a reputation and dignity to protect?

It made me feel less of a man. It was business, there were no feelings involved but she ruined my plans by running off.

At first, I thought she ran off with a lover but her parents admitted that she never had a boyfriend.

When Ethan first brought the news of her appearance here in Chicago, I almost waved it away because I thought she wouldn't have the nerve to be somewhere close to New York after what she did but I know how courageous Andre is and how stubborn and determined she can be.

She was determined to leave me at the altar but she didn't act suspicious for me to know that she was planning something huge.

We have searched all around for her; her parents included but she is nowhere to be found but now I have found her.

She works in a local restaurant here in Chicago where there is a big possibility of a good life waiting for her in New York for eleven months.

Carefully, she rolls the left-hand sleeve up and I see the last piece of evidence that indicates that this is indeed Andre.

It is a tattoo.

The tattoo of a tiny baby with the letter A below.

This is indeed Andre.

I lock eyes with her and smirk mischievously before ordering Chase to drive.

This is indeed Andre and revenge time is finally here.