#Chapter 4: You Want It Believable?

"You stole my first kiss. Why not steal my last name next?" Enzo's teasing tone hung in the air.

Taken aback by his question, Brielle blinked several times. "Huh? Are you stupid or just high on drugs?" she shot back, her brows furrowing in disbelief.

At that moment, Enzo's trusted assistant, Franco, appeared. He felt his heart freeze at the audacity of this woman calling his boss stupid.

*She called him stupid and is still breathing?* Andrew thought, pinching himself to ensure it wasn't a dream.

Ouch.

It was all too real. This woman had truly called his boss stupid and was still standing. Andrew glanced at the arm that Enzo was holding.

*This girl...*

"Marry me," Enzo said, amusement dancing in his eyes. He had never been interested in a girl since...

"No," Brielle replied coldly, her gaze unwavering. She had just escaped from a wedding; why would she even consider marrying another stranger?

What for?

It was time for her to leave. Brielle pulled her arm back harshly and glared at him, genuine confusion etched on her face. No one had ever held her hand for so long and not faced dire consequences. Why wasn't she disgusted with his touch?

It took a while for her to get over James's touch, but with this man, it felt almost... safe? This was crazy.

"The last thing I need is boy drama," she muttered, shaking her head. "Thank you for your service," Brielle added, turning to leave.

Franco dashed to Enzo's side, who was still watching the girl leave in awe. Clearing his throat, he tried to get Enzo's attention, but Enzo remained fixed on the fleeing figure.

"She has escaped. We can't find her," Franco reported, swallowing hard. The V-neckline of his shirt was covered in sweat from running after the girl.

"What?" Enzo's brow furrowed. He shut his eyes in annoyance, feeling his jaw tick. "The girl was shivering like she had pneumonia before the wedding, but now she suddenly has the strength to run away?"

"You shouldn't be surprised, boss. Only the mention of your name sends shivers down the spine of the president of the country," Franco reminded him, his chest swelling with pride. Being feared was a necessity in their line of work.

"I need a bride if I want to put an end to my father's power." His voice thundered, the words echoing off the walls as he unleashed his fury.

"I know, boss."

"I need a bride now. Find my nephew and give him the assignment." The frustration and anger in Enzo's voice were evident.

"You mean James Ricci? Didn't he break into your warehouse last week with that assassin, Bloody? Are you willing to trust him?"

"Trust?" Enzo lit his cigarette, a smirk forming on his lips. He clenched his fists, the knuckles white with tension, as he struggled to contain his temper. "I don't trust my own mother; why would I waste it on him? If he could betray his girlfriend, why wouldn't he do the same? James is trying hard to get a promotion. This will be good news for him."

James?

Although she was at the end of the hall, Brielle overheard their conversation, her heightened hearing kicking in. She pinned her hair behind her ear to ease the tension.

*James Ricci was her ex-boyfriend-the one who had killed her.*

*So this is your uncle?* Brielle thought, her eyes drifting back to the man. *You must be adopted because you don't look anything like him. Poor thing.*

James was a lower grade in looks, especially compared to his uncle. It was hard to believe they were related at all.

*And he's looking for a bride?*

A smile crept onto her face, the corners of her mouth curling upward like a sunrise breaking over the horizon. She glanced down at her wedding dress, with sleeves stripped and half the bottom cut. It ended knee-length but was still beautiful-perfect for some badass pictures.

In the next moment, Brielle found her legs moving toward the man, each step elegant as if convincing him to accept her as his bride.

"I accept," she said solemnly.

"Accept what?" Franco frowned, confused.

However, Brielle maintained her calm composure, arms crossed. "I will marry you."

Enzo raised an eyebrow at her bold confession. A strange emotion flickered in her eyes. "Do you know who I am, little girl?"

*Little girl?* She was not a child. Someone with her experiences couldn't be categorized as such.

"No," she answered boldly. "Neither do you know me."

Enzo let out a dark laugh at her response.

"I am Brielle Smith, daughter of Sylvia and George Smith. I am twenty years old, enrolled at Lancaster University majoring in fashion. My favorite color is pink, and I love pizza," she rambled, reciting information as if it were a memory.

Pink? Enzo examined the girl, incredulous. It sounded unbelievable.

Rather than answering further questions, he continued, "I am Enzo Ricci, thirty-three years old. I work in the paper-making industry and don't have a favorite color. I hate pizza."

"Practically soulmates," she joked, a smirk playing on her lips.

*Paper-making industry?* Franco almost laughed out loud when he heard this. What was his boss up to?

Watching this rollercoaster, Andrew pulled his boss aside and whispered, "You're going to marry this lady? She does not seem ordinary, and she might be a spy."

"I guess we'll find out," Enzo replied, a sly smile creeping onto his lips.

While Brielle eavesdropped, her shoulders relaxed when she heard what he said.

"Let's get married," Enzo declared.

Upon arriving at the Bureau of Civil Service and Affairs, the man in charge jumped to his feet upon seeing Enzo. He wore a black suit, barely holding it together over his potbelly.

As expected, there was another girl with him. This girl was the prettiest of them all; there was something about her eyes that gave him the shivers. She looked innocent, but he could tell she was trouble. Unlike the other girls, she wasn't screaming, crying, or looking nervous.

This girl was, in fact, too composed. It frightened Franco a lot.

"Mr. Ricci," he called, eager to start kissing up, knowing everyone-even the country's president-was scared of this man.

"I'm back, Larry," Enzo answered, spreading his arms. He was determined to get married.

"I can see that," Larry replied, his voice shaky, sweat glistening on his forehead. "Are you ready to be a husband?"

Andrew raised an eyebrow, realizing they were only here to get married; Enzo had no interest in any relationship.

Upon realizing he had overstepped, Larry's face fell. He regained his composure and led them inside.

"Look at the camera, and could you move closer?" the cameraman at the Bureau of Civil Service and Affairs asked.

As if on cue, Enzo and Brielle glanced at the cameraman, causing him to stumble back. Larry rushed to help him up.

"What's wrong?" he asked, noticing his employee's panicked face.

"They look like they're going to murder each other, not like they're in love."

"Shut up!" Larry warned.

However, the cameraman was a bit bold. He asked, "Could you actually smile?"

Brielle massaged her face, attempting to smile. It felt like something was climbing up her face, and the smile looked very unnatural.

"Sir, you have to smile to make this marriage more believable."

"Don't bother; my husband has a facial disorder; he can't smile," Brielle replied in a sickly sweet voice.

Enzo frowned at her. "You want believable?" He leaned down and kissed her. It was unexpected; Brielle raised her hand to his chest to stop him, but he held it against his chest.

The photographer took the photo of them. It came out beautifully, and everyone could tell they were in love. This was the most intimate photo he had taken for a marriage certificate photo.

Rather inappropriate.

Still, this was Enzo Ricci, the most feared man in the country. The photographer could not dare to ask for another photo if he wanted to live.

Brielle was left breathing hard after the kiss. She pointed her index finger at him. "Don't you dare kiss me again, or I will slit your throat and watch the blood drop on your designer suit!"

Stunned by her threat, Enzo touched her lower lip with his finger, desire intensifying in him. He laughed darkly, "Oh honey, you are made for me."

Chapter 5: A Partner in a Mutually Beneficial Arrangement

Brielle stepped back, her heart racing. She had never been one to back down from a challenge, but this man was different. His dark laughter echoed in her ears, a mix of danger and allure.

Unconsciously, she touched her lips where his had made contact. It made her heart skip a beat. It scared her.

Brielle made up her mind to stay away from him; he might be a hurdle in her plan.

As if reading her mind, Enzo pinched her chin and lifted her head so she could stare up at him. He inquired, "What is your next plan now, Brielle Ricci?"

"I don't know what you are talking about. What plans?" She narrowed her eyes at him. "You think this is a game? You don't know me."

Enzo leaned closer, his smirk widening. "Oh, I think I'm starting to get a sense of who you are-defiant, unyielding, and perhaps a bit reckless."

"Reckless? That's rich, coming from you," she shot back, crossing her arms defiantly.

Franco, still watching the exchange with a mix of amusement and concern, cleared his throat. "Um, should we proceed with the paperwork, or...?"

"Yes," Enzo replied, his gaze never leaving Brielle. "Let's get this over with."

As they moved toward the desk, Brielle felt a mixture of excitement and apprehension. The seriousness of the situation was beginning to sink in. She was about to marry a man she barely knew-one who was rumored to be ruthless. But there was something about him that intrigued her, a spark of chaos that matched her own.

Once seated at the desk, Larry shuffled through the paperwork, his hands shaking slightly. "Just sign here, and you'll be officially married."

Brielle hesitated, glancing at Enzo. He seemed unfazed, his confidence radiating.

"Do you really want this?" she asked quietly.

He met her gaze, his expression serious for a moment. "I need this. And you... you need a way out of your current situation."

"Is that what I am to you? A means to an end?" Brielle challenged.

"A partner in a mutually beneficial arrangement," he corrected, his tone steely.

With a deep breath, she picked up the pen and signed her name, using the memory of the original win. The weight of the moment settled in as she watched Enzo do the same. He acted as composed as ever; she watched him with fascination.

"Congratulations," Larry announced, his voice barely above a whisper. "You're officially married."

Brielle felt a rush of emotions-fear, excitement, confusion. She was now tied to Enzo Ricci, a man of power and secrets. One step away from getting her revenge. From what she had eavesdropped, she could tell that he was part of an organization.

Probably the same organization for which James killed her for a promotion. If she got closer to him, she might be able to infiltrate it. In order to play the role, Brielle dropped her arrogance.

"Now what?" she asked, looking up at him.

Enzo leaned back in his chair, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Now, we play by my rules."

Outside the Bureau, the air was thick with tension. Enzo lit another cigarette, the smoke curling around them like a shroud. "We need to discuss our next steps."

"Next steps?" Brielle echoed, crossing her arms. She knew that he needed a wife but had no idea why. "What do you want from me?"

He exhaled slowly, considering his words. "I need you to act like my wife in public. We need to convince people that this marriage is real." His words were cold, as if they were talking about work.

"And what do you get out of this?" she pressed, trying to squeeze more information out of him. She truly had no idea who this man was, although his name sounded familiar.

"Protection. My father has enemies, and I have my own. With you by my side, I can deflect some of that attention."

Brielle raised an eyebrow, defiant. "And you think I'm just going to agree to be your shield?"

Of course, Brielle did not buy this reason. She knew it was something more than what he portrayed. Men of power needed women by their side for one reason: more power.

"Why not? You have your own reasons for wanting this," he replied, his voice smooth.

Although caught off guard, Brielle kept her poker face. It was too early for her to reveal her plans to this stranger. He might thwart them.

"Fine. Send me the address of your house. I have something to clean up first."

"Don't die on me, wife," he teased, playing with the French cigarette between his fingers. For some strange reason, he really did not want to see this girl dead.

Brielle shrugged nonchalantly. "Been there, done that. I am not afraid."

Getting into a cab, she gave an address, and the driver rode to it. Enzo was left with a tail of smoke. He turned to Franco and implored, "What did you find out about my wife?"

Bringing out a blue file from the back of Enzo's BMW, Franco returned with the file. He scampered through the pages, reading out the important details. "Everything she said is true, although she left out the part about being a runaway bride from Richard Swift this morning. She is also an awful student in her class and has repeated the class two times in a row."

"Okay," he replied, a complicated look in his eyes.

___

Upon arrival at her destination, Brielle paid the driver with cash from her purse. The wad of cash left was less than five hundred dollars; for someone who was a spendthrift, this money would not last two days.

Plus, depending on her new husband was the last thing on her mind. Brielle surveyed the area with caution, taking her steps carefully.

Nostalgia rolled into her stomach like dough when she passed through the fence into the place. The memory of her demise was still fresh in her mind.

Although it had rained cats and dogs last night, Brielle could still smell the scent of death and firearms in the air.

It was very intoxicating. Brielle found it hard to come to terms with her death. She strolled at the scene of her death, feeling anger bubbling inside of her.

"So, it is true. I am dead after all," she sniffed, feeling the back of her throat sting. No matter how emotional she got, even though it was rare, Diana could not bring herself to cry.

However, the previous owner, Brielle, was a crybaby, so tears filled her eyes as if they were a swimming pool. Brielle felt disgusted by her blurry vision and blinked the tears away.

Now, she could have a better look at the scene. Blood and flesh marred the earth, probably from the grenade James shot. At the mere thought of this, her body trembled with restrained rage, like a pot about to boil over.

As she surveyed the area, Brielle spotted a shiny object on the ground, the sun reflecting on it. She walked toward it, crouched, and picked it up.

"A ring?" she frowned. Brielle hurled her arms to throw it when she caught sight of the engraving on it. "ER," she murmured, the letters engraved inside the ring.

From her knowledge of jewels, Brielle could tell the centerpiece of the ring was a rare ruby, which could be found at the deepest depths of a volcano. Only ultra-wealthy people could own such jewelry.

"Hmm, interesting." She studied the jewelry with fascination, taking notes of every design on it. She continued to herself, "This might be my first step to find Winifred. I need to find out who she is."

The next moment, the phone in her purse started to ring. Brielle answered the call, her eyes wandering at the strange number. "Wife," the deep voice called out.

"Yes," she replied coldly.

"You have to be at home by seven. I can't show a ghost to my business partners," he went on, in his professional voice as if she were his employee.

Upon hearing this, Brielle let out a bitter laugh. "Don't worry, I am not dead yet."

"Good," his sultry voice responded.

Suddenly, feeling lighter than she was before, Brielle teased, "Why are you so keen on keeping me alive? I hope you don't get attached because I am addictive."

To her surprise, his cold and dark laughter filtered out of the speakers of the phone like music in her ears. "Bold of you to assume that I am not already addicted."

Chapter 6: To save mother's life

Upon arrival at her destination, Diana paid the driver with cash from her purse. The wad of cash left was less than five hundred dollars; for someone who was a spendthrift, this money would not last two days.

Plus, depending on her new husband was the last thing on her mind. Diana surveyed the area with caution, taking her steps carefully. This land was a minefield to keep nosy people out; however, she knew everywhere they were planted.

Soon, she crossed the field and arrived at an area with green grass everywhere. Diana searched for the dried grass. After spotting it, she crouched on the ground. Her hands passed through the grass to check if it was a hologram, and it was.

This was the place.

Next, she found the hidden button and switched off the hologram. The illusion of grass disappeared, revealing dark earth and a huge door on the floor.

Quickly, Diana punched in the codes and opened the door. The door weighed over eighty grams, but due to her training, she could move it. However, her new body was weaker, so it took longer than usual.

"I need to start going to the gym to get back my ideal body," she noted.

There was a trail of steps that led into the underground house. Diana was pleased she had told James about this hideout because he would have gotten into it, like she was sure he must have with the others he had.

Climbing down the stairs, Diana jumped to the center floor. The air had the stench of wet earth, which was common after any rainfall. She went toward the first compartment, a room with several monitors that monitored the main entry and exit of the country and her other houses.

Three of the cameras were down.

"James, you are so predictable, going after my hideout after your betrayal."

Diana watched the last moments before the video crashed. It showed James, along with other people, walking into it. They started ravaging her hideout, taking out her decades of research on the important people of the country.

"All my hard work. You've taken from me, James. I can't wait to kill you with my bare hands. Stupid." She trembled, her whole body vibrating with rage, like a live wire about to spark.

"Unfortunately for you all, I am back, and I will enjoy killing all of you. Everything you've taken from me is up here." Diana pointed at her yard, carrying out a conversation as if they were there.

She loathed when people touched her things, and worst of all, they stole from her.

Next, Diana went on the dark web and input her name: "Assassin Bloody."

Information came out-everything about her death.

"Assassin Bloody killed at the hands of James Ricci of Camora on their assignment at Enzo Ricci."

"Enzo?"

At this point, Diana had her eureka moment. How could she have forgotten such an important figure?

It felt like a switch had been tampered with in her memories; information she had gathered about Enzo Ricci came rushing back.

"Enzo Ricci, the last son of Giovanni Ricci, mafia boss of New York City and the Cosa Nostra. First kill at the age of six, his nanny who refused to extend his bedtime. Recent kill: the president's son. The most feared man in the country. In a feud with his older brothers to become capo..."

Diana laughed, sarcasm clothing her words, "I hit the jackpot with this one, didn't I?"

The abrupt ringing of her cellphone interrupted Diana. She looked at the screen with dissatisfaction. Her mouth tasted bitter as an aftereffect, "Sister? The former owner saved this green tea's name as 'sister dearest' haha! What a people pleaser."

She found it funny how the previous owner thought of Natalie as a sister, whereas Natalie and her mother saw the previous owner as a cash cow they could sell to an old man when inconvenient!

"Hey," Diana spat impatiently. She glanced at her watch, clearly infuriated. "Why are you calling? I have errands to run."

"Where are you, Diana? You ran away from the wedding, and now mother wants to kill herself!" Natalie was frantic over the phone, her voice breaking after every word.

However, Diana knew all too well it was pretense. Out of boredom, she tried to play along.

"Hmm. How does me trying to run away-"

"Stop asking questions. Come fast if you want her alive."

"Okay. Send me the address." she replied nonchalantly. The old woman living or dying had nothing to do with the decisions she was about to take.

"The address? Don't you know the address of your childhood home?"

Diana became flustered by the question. She really had not thought about it. "Aha, I remember now."

With the use of the previous owner's body, Diana took a cab to the Smith residence. It was a lower-class house in the middle of the slums.

Whereas in the Smith house, Natalie turned to find her mother sipping on coffee behind her desk. A cruel smile pulled on her thin lips. "Is she coming?"

"Of course. We need to put on the performance of our life, mother. Diana must marry that old man today." Natalie replied, smiling from ear to ear.

They both shared a long laugh and took their spot to start the drama.

After paying the taxi ride, Diana stepped out and was immediately suffocated by the pungent smell in the air. She covered her nose with a handkerchief.

Not far from where she stood were a group of young boys not more than ten years old teasing a dog with a bone.

Trash littered the pavement, and the buildings were old, about to collapse or had nasty walls. Diana did not feel repulsed by the scenario because she had grown up in a similar situation. It was fine because her parents were alive; that was until they died and she was taken in by the organization.

The organization saved her life and made her the world's top assassin. Incredible!

"As per my memory, this must be the Smith's house. It looks better than the rest," Diana acknowledged upon stumbling upon the house. It was a beautiful three-bedroom brick house in the center of the neighborhood. It had a little fence that protected the property.

Inside, Diana caught sight of a little garden. It was planted by the previous owner; she loved dealing with flowers.

Staring at the garden, Diana shook her head. "You loved flowers while I was allergic to pollen. We are from two separate worlds, Diana."

"I want to kill myself. This life is so miserable. I am doomed. I will end my life today so you two can live a happy life," a familiar voice drew Diana's attention. She looked to find the previous owner's stepmother standing upon the rails of the balcony.

"No, Mom. Please, Mom, you can't do this. It's not worth it," Natalie begged, her voice loud and pitiful.

"Ahh." Diana chuckled, as she shook her head in astonishment."Mother and daughter want an Oscar for their acting."

The middle-aged woman cried, her fingers gripping the rails. "Don't stop me. I took care of sister for so many years, but how does she repay me? By running away from the altar. We are doomed. I will kill myself before that happens."

Then came, Natalie's nagging voice "What are you doing downstairs?"

"Waiting to catch a corpse?" Diana spoke coldly, her words void of any emotion.

It was a desperate situation, so Natalie knew Diana wouldn't fight it. She would give in to any demands. She went back into acting mode, crying loudly, "What nonsense! Come upstairs. Let's convince Mom together."

"I can't watch all the drama from down here, can I?" Diana mused. She turned left into the house and headed for the balcony.