Stuck in a Mafia Romance

Chapter 124: Highschool Friend?

Stuck in a Mafia Romance

Chapter 124: Highschool Friend?

Translate to
Chapter 124: Highschool Friend?

No One’s POV

In a panic state, Amelia grabbed his hand, trying to pull him into nearby quite place.

The man didn’t move. Instead, he jerked his hand back with a violent motion, as if her touch were toxic. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and slowly wiped his skin where she had touched him.

Amelia’s face burned with insult, but she glared at him, waiting for an answer.

"Recognize me?" he repeated, his voice a low that sent another shiver through her. "Pfft. I ain’t dumb like you, Amelia. I move in shadows you couldn’t even see."

Ignoring the biting insult, she stepped closer, her eyes darting toward the door in distance.

"Then tell me, what are you doing here? This isn’t your territory."

"Hmm," he mused, a dark smirk playing on his lips as he tucked the handkerchief away. "I just thought I’d pay you a visit. But halfway here... I found something much more interesting than you."

He looked toward the direction Vivien had gone, his gaze sharp and predatory.

"Whatever it is, don’t let Dominic see you!" Amelia warned, her voice trembling. "If he finds out you’re on campus- "

"Aww," he interrupted, tilting his head with a fake pout. "And here I was thinking of personally meeting him. Maybe I should drop by his office and ask for a tour. After all... it’s been a long time since we’ve had a proper reunion, hasn’t it?"

Amelia’s breath hitched. "You stay away from him. I have everything under control."

The man laughed, a cold sound. "Under control? You’re vibrating like a phone on silent mode, Amelia. You don’t have anything under control. But don’t worry... I’ll be watching. From a distance. For now."

With a wink he turned and vanished into the crowd of students, blending in so perfectly it was as if he had never been there at all.

Amelia stood alone, her hands shaking as she realized the game had just become a three-way war.

_______________

Vivien grabbed the cake and the black coffee, staring down at the tray in confusion. That grumpy suit and this pink strawberry cake? What a weird combination... She couldn’t help but imagine Dominic sitting behind his massive desk, surrounded by cute pink plushies, scowling while holding a tiny plastic fork.

She let out a sudden snicker, shaking her head as she walked towards the crowded cafeteria.

As she was walking, lost in her imagination , someone bumped into her with a sudden force.

Her heart jumped...she could already see the $10 cake and the black coffee painting the floor- but before anything could fall, a hand reached out.

A pale, steady hand gripped the tray, balancing it perfectly while another hand caught her shoulder to steady her. Vivien looked up, blinking.

The guy in front of her had messy, dirty blonde hair and a oversized hoodie, giving him a cozy, slightly disheveled look. He was wearing thick glasses.

Uh, I’ve never seen anyone else with the same aesthetic as mine, she thought, her brain momentarily distracted.

She tried to scan her memory of the campus- was this a new transfer student?

"Ah, are you okay?" His voice rang out- it was surprisingly soft.

Vivien was in a bit of a daze, caught off guard by how familiar he felt, yet how completely out of place he seemed. She realized she was staring and quickly nodded. "Yeah, thanks for the help. That was a close one."

He gave a small shaky nod, looking a bit shy. "Uh, no worries. I hope the food is intact... otherwise, your money would’ve gone to waste."

Vivien’s eye instantly looked at the Black Card tucked in her hoodie pocket. Technically, it wouldn’t have been my money anyway, she thought with a smirk.

"It’s all good," she said, giving him a quick smile. She was about to walk off, already thinking about how Dominic would react if she was even a minute late, but the dude called out again, stopping her in her tracks.

"Wait!"

Vivien turned back, her brow furrowed. "Yeah?"

The guy hesitated, his fingers fidgeting with the strings of his hoodie. He looked at her through his glasses with an intensity that didn’t match his shy demeanor.

"You... you’re Vivien, right? From the CST department?"

Vivien felt that familiar prickle of unease. First the unknown texts and now a random "twin-aesthetic" guy knew her name?

"Do I know you?" she asked, her voice dropping into a defensive tone

He rubbed the back of his neck, looking down at his sneakers. "Uh, I’m Enzo... we went to high school together... remember?" he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Vivien squinted, her brain working overtime. Enzo... Enzo... She searched through the blurry memories of her high school days- a time when she was even more buried in her books and web novels than she was now.

Looking at her blank expression, Enzo’s shoulders slumped. "It’s okay if you don’t remember. Sorry for wasting your time..." He turned away, looking genuinely upset and started to walk off.

Then, suddenly, it clicked. A memory of a quiet boy in the back of the library- the same one who had nervously handed her a folded letter on graduation day. She had been so overwhelmed with her move and her studies that she had rejected him as gently as she could, but the awkwardness of that moment was hard to forget.

"Hey! Wait!" Vivien called out. "Yeah, I recognize you now. Enzo! You... you’ve changed your hair."

He stopped and turned back, a bright, hopeful smile lighting up his face. "I’m really happy to hear that. I-I actually transferred here recently, and I-"

Before he could finish his sentence, Vivien’s phone started vibrating violently in her pocket.

She pulled it out, and the caller ID made her stomach drop. MR. GRUMPY SUIT.

"Oh, shoot!" she hissed, looking at the time. "I am so sorry, Enzo. I’d love to catch up, but I’m literally on a timer for my life right now. I’ll chat with you later, okay?"

She didn’t even wait for an answer. Balancing the tray like a pro, she sprinted toward the second floor, her hoodie flapping behind her.

Enzo stood frozen in the middle of the crowded hallway. The shy, stuttering persona vanished in an instant. His shoulders straightened, and his "innocent" face fell into a flat, expressionless mask.

His eyes, now cold and tracked Vivien as she disappeared around the corner.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a phone that looked far more expensive than his baggy clothes suggested.

"She’s still as impulsive as I remember," he muttered, his voice no longer soft, but edged with a chilling precision.

He adjusted his glasses and walked in the opposite direction.

The moment Vivien entered the archives, she saw Dominic sitting on the very same wooden stool she had been using.

He was leaning back, his long legs stretched out, looking at his watch with an annoyed expression.

"It seems like you have enough time on your hands, unlike others who actually have things to do, Miss Vivien," he said, his voice dropping in a warning.

Vivien scrambled to set the tray down, her mind spinning for an excuse. "You won’t believe what I saw down the hall, Mr. Valente! There was a- uh- a hacker! He was trying to hack the library’s Wi-Fi. I had to intervene for the sake of campus security. It was a whole mission, really."

Dominic didn’t blink. He just stared at her with a look that said, I am 100% aware you are lying, and it’s not even a good lie.

Vivien’s story died a quick death in the silence.

She sheepishly placed the black coffee and the strawberry cake in front of him. Dominic looked down at the bright, pink, frosted slice of cake as if it was a dirt.

"This strawberry is out of place. I no longer want it," he said coldly, sliding the plate across the dusty table toward her.

Vivien looked down at the cake, then back at him, her eyes wide. "Uh... for me?"

"Eat it or throw it away, I don’t care," he said, picking up his black coffee and taking a slow sip. He didn’t look at her again, focusing entirely on his phone, but he didn’t tell her to get back to work yet either.

Vivien didn’t need to be told twice. She grabbed the fork and took a massive bite. The cream was light, the strawberries were fresh, and, it tasted absolutely heavenly. She closed her eyes, a look of pure bliss spreading across her face as she let out a tiny, muffled "Mmm."

From the corner of his eye, Dominic watched her. He saw the way her cheeks puffed out as she chewed, and the way her expression softened into something vulnerable and sweet.

A sense of quiet satisfaction settled in his chest.

"Finish it and get back to the 2019 files," he muttered, though the bitterness in his voice was gone.

The next three hours were a blur. By the time Vivien finally organized the last folder of the decade, she was tired af. Her back ached, her fingers were grey with dust, and her brain felt like it had been fried in a pan.

"I’m... I’m done," she croaked, leaning her head against a shelf. "Ten years of students. I know everyone’s middle name and their blood type now. Can I please go home?"

Dominic stood up, looming over her one last time. He checked the time- 2:15 PM

"You’re dismissed," he said, his voice unreadable. "But don’t you think yo----."

Vivien was too exhausted to catch what he was saying. She just grabbed her bag and sprinted for the door, unaware that the "interview" she was rushing toward had already been erased from existence.

_____________

Vivien wasted no time. She sprinted home. She threw off her dusty hoodie, splashed her face with cold water, and changed into the most "employable" outfit she owned.

"Okay, Vivien. Deep breaths," she whispered to her reflection, adjusting her glasses. "You’ve survived a fictional world. A cafe interview is nothing."

She checked the address again. Thankfully, the boutique firm was located in a trendy building right next to her apartment. If it had been any further, she would have been late. She checked her phone- 2:59 PM.

"Perfect."

She took a final deep breath, squared her shoulders and walking out. "Finally, you can do it, Vivien! Real independence, here I come!"

But as the door whistled shut behind her, a sleek black car pulled up silently at the corner . Slowly, the tinted window rolled down, revealing the sharp profile of Dominic Valente.

He leaned back against the seat, one hand draped casually over the steering wheel, watching her retreating figure through the glass .

A dark smirk played on his lips.

He didn’t move to follow her. He didn’t need to.

He simply pulled out his phone and watched the seconds tick by on the digital clock.

3:00 PM

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

TO BE CONTINUED

How did this chapter make you feel?

One tap helps us surface trending chapters and recommend titles you'll actually enjoy — your vote shapes You may also like.