Claimed by My Brother's Best Friend (A Mafia Romance)

ISABELLA

The sun blazed over the driveway as I zipped the last compartment of my duffel bag. Sweat beaded at my hairline, not from the heat—but from the two sets of eyes drilling into my every movement like I was a porcelain doll on the verge of shattering.

Vincent, my brother, stood stiffly with his arms crossed like a bodyguard. Damian, his friend, lounged beside him on the hood of the black SUV, cool and unreadable behind dark sunglasses. Watching. Always watching.

"Can you two back off a little?" I snapped, slinging my bag over my shoulder. "I need space, not bodyguards."

Vincent didn't even blink. "It's your final exams, Bella. You don't need to be on campus. You can write from home. Safer that way."

I exhaled sharply and tossed the last shirt into my suitcase. "I already spoke to Dad. He's fine with me staying on campus. And I'm not hiding anymore—I'm not some pawn in this endless family blood war. I'm grown now. I want to live my life. My rules."

Vincent's jaw tensed, but he said nothing.

I rolled my eyes. Of course he wasn't going to make this easy. He never did. Ever since we were kids, he's had this obsession with protecting me. Maybe it made sense, considering the family we came from—a legacy built on secrets, violence, and power. But still. I wasn't a child anymore.

The moment I stepped outside our home, Vincent made sure his men weren't far behind. Everywhere I went, eyes followed. He wasn't just overprotective—he was obsessed with control.

"You're being reckless," he muttered, picking up my suitcase like I hadn't just told him off.

I sighed. "I'm being human."

His brows drew together, dark and heavy. "You think they won't come for you? You think you're not a target?"

I said nothing. I knew the truth as well as he did—probably better. I just didn't want to live afraid anymore.

My eyes flicked toward Damian, silently begging him to step in. For once.

He tried to avoid my gaze, pretending to be fascinated by a scratch on the car door. But after a beat, he spoke.

"Let her go, Vince. She's not a kid." His voice was smooth and low, the kind that made you lean in without realizing it. "She just wants to finish her exams. She'll be fine."

That's what I liked about Damian—he wasn't like Vincent. He didn't smother me. He saw me, even when I tried to disappear into the background.

And maybe that's why I'd had a stupid, hopeless crush on him since I was thirteen.

Of course, he'd never notice me that way. Not when I was just Vincent's little sister—the girl caught between a ruthless world and a quiet dream of freedom. I was sure he saw me as nothing more than a responsibility.

But still, I caught myself watching him when I shouldn't. The way his jaw clenched when he was annoyed. The way he looked at me when he thought I wasn't looking.

I dragged my suitcase out toward the front of the house, the wheels thumping against the brick steps.

"Can't you reconsider?" Vincent called from behind. "I'm your brother."

"And that's the problem," I muttered under my breath.

At the bottom of the stairs, I found Dad exactly where I expected him—sitting in the lounge, half-buried behind the business section of the newspaper. Even now, after handing over most of his empire to Vincent, he still read every headline like it was war strategy.

"Dad," I said, dropping beside him on the couch.

He peeked over the paper, his lips lifting in that rare, almost-boyish smile. "So my baby girl is really heading to campus."

I nodded, unable to stop the tiny twist in my chest. I might be fighting for independence, but walking away from the only home I'd ever known still felt like a step off a cliff.

"Need anything?" he asked, brushing a strand of hair from my face.

I glanced at Vincent and pointed. "Just tell him to stop sending men to shadow me like I'm a criminal on parole."

Dad chuckled softly. "He's just protecting you."

I groaned. "From what? The cafeteria lady? Exams? Life?"

He sighed and folded the paper. "Fine. I'll talk to him. No men, unless something goes wrong. Happy now?"

"Ecstatic." I pecked him on the cheek. "Love you, Dad."

Outside, Damian was already loading my bag into the trunk.

"I'll drop you at the front gate," he said, holding the passenger door open for me. His fingers brushed mine for half a second, and it felt like my heartbeat skipped two entire notes.

"Alone?" I asked, hopefully.

"Hell no," Vincent said, yanking the door wider. "I'm coming too."

Of course.

The drive to campus was torture.

I spent most of the ride pretending the window was more interesting than it was. Trees blurred past in muted greens, my reflection faint against the glass. But my eyes kept betraying me, flicking to the side where Damian sat in perfect silence—hands steady on the wheel, jaw tense, eyes fixed ahead like the road had done something personal to him.

The sun hit the curve of his cheekbone just right, casting a shadow under his lashes. He looked like he belonged in a story far more dangerous than mine.

Vincent kept checking the rearview mirror. I caught him the third time, and this time, he didn't look away. His brows drew together like he expected me to vanish into the seat cushions.

By the time we pulled up to the hostel, I could barely breathe from the weight of unspoken things in the car. I pushed the door open like it burned to stay closed and stepped out into the air like I'd been holding my breath the whole way.

"Thanks for the ride," I muttered, grabbing my duffel. I didn't bother making eye contact. Not with Vincent. Definitely not with Damian.

A group of girls by the entrance had gone full statues—eyes wide, whispers flying. I caught the word "hot" floating in the air like perfume. One of them actually fanned herself.

If they only knew.

If they'd seen the things hidden behind Vincent's casual smirk or the way Damian moved like he didn't need to run to be lethal.

"Call if you need anything!" Vincent called out.

I didn't turn. Just walked faster. "I won't."

Inside, the air was cooler, quieter, but my nerves didn't settle. Liliana stood near the stairwell, leaning against the wall with a grin so smug I wanted to throw something at her.

"Told you I'd be waiting," she said, then leaned in like she was telling a dirty secret. "And d*mn. You weren't kidding. The guy next to your brother? Literal walking sin."

I rolled my eyes and slung my bag higher on my shoulder. "That's Damian."

She blinked. Then her jaw hit the floor. "Wait. The Damian? The one you wrote about in your 'dream wedding' essay in eighth grade?"

"I never said love," I shot back, too sharp, too quick.

She laughed like I'd just confessed to a felony. "Right. Just a casual crush that lasted four years and had a name."

I didn't reply. Just started walking.

Liliana caught up, still grinning. "Girl, with a brother like yours and a man like that? Please. I wouldn't even need to dream. I'd be wide awake and thriving."

"If you knew what they're capable of," I muttered under my breath, dragging my suitcase behind me, "you wouldn't say that."

She paused, her amusement dimming just enough. "Still hot though," she added like it excused everything.

We reached our room, and she barely tossed her bag on the bed before darting to the window like a raccoon spotting shiny things. "They're still outside!"

I hesitated. Then joined her, peeking through the blinds.

Vincent spotted me immediately and gave his signature two-finger wave, complete with a lazy smile. He always knew when I was watching.

Damian, though—he didn't smile. Didn't wave.

He just stood there, arms crossed, his whole body carved from stillness.

And his eyes... his eyes were already locked on mine.

Everything inside me stilled. The background noise—the breeze, the rustle of leaves, even Liliana's excited breath—faded out.

There was nothing playful in his gaze. Nothing soft. It held me like a question I couldn't answer.

Then, without warning, he turned, opened the passenger door, and slipped into the car.

Gone.

Liliana was already halfway through her dramatic gasp. "Okay, what was that? That was a whole thing. Don't even try to deny it."

"Damian?" I scoffed, though my throat had gone dry. "He sees me as a sister."

She gave me a look that said she wasn't buying it. "Maybe once," she murmured, "but not today."

I didn't respond.

Because for one wild, terrifying second...

I wanted her to be right.

God, I wanted her to be right.

Full Summary

ISABELLA RUSSO was born into luxury, raised in opulence, and never lacked anything. As the only daughter of the infamous Russo mafia family, she lived a life surrounded by power and wealth but never wanted to be part of the brutality that came with it.

After finishing university, Isabella decided to walk away from the underworld, dreaming of a peaceful life far from her family's bloody empire.

But that dream shattered the day her entire family was murdered wiped out by none other than Damian Vercetti, her brother's best friend, in a ruthless business betrayal.

With her life hanging by a thread, Isabella ran. She tried to disappear. But Damian found her. And instead of killing her like the others, he forced her into submission... and into marriage.

She once saw him as family.

Now, he's her captor.

Damian Vercetti—a cold-blooded mafia king and the ruthless owner of the Marconi Group—rules with fear and fire. Calm on the surface, deadly beneath, he doesn't care who he has to break to get what he wants.

And what he wants is Isabella.

Locked in his world of torment and twisted love, Isabella will do whatever it takes to survive. But the question remains—why did he spare her?

And will she survive Damian Vercetti's obsession... or be consumed by it?

Author's Note

Hi readers!

Before you dive in, I want to be clear—this is not your typical mafia romance.

This story is dark. There will be assault, manipulation, obsession, and emotional triggers. Damian Vercetti is not a kind-hearted hero. He is calm, cunning, and dangerously possessive. What he wants, he takes, no matter the cost.

If you're looking for a fluffy love story—this isn't it. But if you're here for intensity, passion, and twisted power plays... welcome to the madness.

Don't forget to like, comment, and subscribe.

I can't wait to hear your thoughts.

ISABELLA

"Ugh!" I flung my pen across the desk. It clattered to the floor and rolled under a chair, but I didn't care. I slumped back, arms crossed, eyes locked on the question paper like it had just insulted my ancestors.

Across from me, Liliana stretched, arms above her head, her back arched like a lazy cat. One eyebrow lifted. "What now, Isa?"

I stared at the paper, willing the words to change. "Question two," I muttered. "I was supposed to answer question two."

Liliana tilted her head, curious.

"And now the answer decides to show up." I gave a bitter laugh, scrubbing a hand down my face. "Where were you fifteen minutes ago, genius brain?"

She groaned, loud and theatrical, and grabbed my arm as we walked out of the hall. "Nope. Not today. You're not spiraling. That was our last exam, Isa. You deserve cake, not an existential crisis."

Her words were warm, but the sting of regret clung to me like smoke. Still, I let her pull me along.