The Mafia's Smart Innocent Girl
Penulis
Tasha S
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148K
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92
She grew up in a house where love died with her mother—and two months later, cruelty moved in wearing a smile.
By senior year, Ariana Hale is invisible on purpose: straight-A genius, self-taught in computers and science, stacking scholarships in secret while she cooks, cleans, and survives a family that treats her like a burden. Then she overhears the truth—her father is planning to marry her off the moment she graduates.
So Ariana runs.
A fake graduation date. A passport lie. A one-way ticket to Italy and a future she built with her own hands.
Freedom lasts one flight.
The plane goes down in the wilderness. Only three survive. One dies. And Ariana is left with a broken arm, a brutal landscape, and a dangerous, silent first-class stranger—Matteo DeLuca—who turns out to be everything she should fear…and the only reason she stays alive.
Six weeks of hunger, rain, and raw honesty forge a bond neither of them can explain. Then rescue comes, and they separate with unsaid words and a secret that follows Ariana into the next decade.
Years later, Ariana is back in Italy, thriving in medicine, guarding her peace—until the family she escaped discovers she lived.
A hitman. A kidnapping. A child who becomes the target.
And a man who never planned to have a family—until he finds out he already does.
Now Matteo isn’t chasing love.
He’s chasing justice.
And anyone who comes for Ariana will learn the difference.
Chapter 1: The Girl No One Saw
ARIANA
The house was full of laughter. But none of it was hers.
Music echoed through the large Hale mansion, drifting down the staircase and into the kitchen. Expensive perfume and the smell of roasted meat filled the air as guests gathered in the living room, their voices loud and carefree.
From the kitchen doorway, Ariana Hale stood quietly, watching. Crystal glasses clinked together as women in elegant dresses laughed too loudly.
Men in tailored suits discussed business deals and vacations in places Ariana had only ever seen online. No one noticed the girl standing in the shadows. No one ever did.
“Where’s the dessert?” The sharp voice sliced through the kitchen like a knife.
Ariana turned immediately. Her stepmother, Veronica Hale, stood in the doorway with her arms crossed, her perfectly manicured nails tapping impatiently against her elbow.
“You’ve been in here forever,” Veronica snapped. “The guests are waiting.”
“I was finishing the cake,” Ariana replied quietly.
Veronica walked into the kitchen and inspected the counter like a restaurant critic looking for flaws. “Well, hurry up,” she scoffed. “And remember—you stay in the kitchen tonight.”
“I know.” Ariana nodded.
“Good. I don’t want my guests wondering why you’re wandering around looking miserable,” Veronica said with a satisfied smile.
Without another word, she turned and walked back toward the party. Ariana stood still for a moment after she left, then turned back to the counter.
The chocolate cake sat perfectly frosted in front of her, three even layers covered in glossy ganache. She had spent nearly two hours making it, not because she enjoyed baking, but because Veronica demanded everything to be “perfect.”
Ariana carefully lifted the cake onto a serving tray. She had learned to bake, cook, and clean before she even turned thirteen, not because someone taught her, but because someone forced her.
Taking a steady breath, she carried the cake into the dining room. The room fell slightly quieter when she walked in, not out of respect, but out of annoyance.
Her stepsister, Madison, sat at the head of the table surrounded by four girls from her private school. They were dressed in sparkling dresses, clearly coming from some kind of event.
Madison noticed Ariana immediately, and her lips curled with amusement. “Well, look who finally came out of the dungeon,” Madison said loudly.
Her friends laughed.
Ariana placed the cake gently on the table. “Careful,” Madison continued mockingly. “She might accidentally poison us. She’s always been…weird.”
The girls giggled.
Ariana kept her eyes on the cake as she picked up the knife. “Why does she dress like that?” one of Madison’s friends whispered loudly enough for everyone to hear.
Ariana glanced down at herself. Oversized gray sweater. Old jeans. Worn sneakers. They were comfortable, and more importantly, they helped her disappear.
Madison smirked. “She does it for attention,” she said. “She thinks she’s some kind of mysterious hacker or something.”
More laughter.
Across the table, Ariana’s father barely looked up from his drink. Once, when Ariana was younger, Robert Hale used to laugh with her at dinner and ask about her school projects, calling her his “little genius.”
But that was years ago, before her mother died, before Veronica arrived, before the lies started.
Now he looked at Ariana like she was a stranger who somehow ended up living in his house.
“Don’t just stand there,” Veronica snapped from behind her. “Cut the cake.”
Ariana obeyed. One slice. Two slices. Three. She moved around the table quietly, placing plates in front of guests who didn’t bother acknowledging her existence.
“She goes to public school, right?” one woman asked Veronica.
Veronica sighed dramatically. “Yes. Unfortunately.”
“Why unfortunately?” the woman asked.
Veronica gave Ariana a disappointed look. “We tried private school,” she said. “But some children simply…don’t fit in.”
Madison smirked into her drink.
Ariana kept cutting the cake. She knew better than to react. Every lie Veronica told had one purpose: make Ariana look like a problem, make Madison look perfect, and somehow, it had worked. Even her father believed it now.
When the last slice was served, Veronica waved her hand dismissively. “You can go.”
Ariana nodded. No one said thank you. No one looked at her as she walked back toward the kitchen, but she preferred it that way. Being invisible was safer.
After cleaning the dishes, wiping the counters, and loading the dishwasher, Ariana quietly slipped up the back staircase. The music downstairs grew louder, but up here, the hallway was silent.
Her bedroom sat at the very end. The smallest room in the house. Plain white walls. A single bed. A small desk. And the one thing that mattered most to her: her laptop.
Ariana locked the door behind her and sat down. The moment the screen lit up, something changed in her eyes. Confidence replaced exhaustion.
Her fingers began moving quickly across the keyboard. Lines of code filled the screen. Firewalls. Encryption. Network diagnostics.
A notification popped up in the corner of the screen. Payment received—$1,250.
Ariana leaned back slightly, staring at the number. Then she opened another hidden folder.
Inside were dozens of documents. Acceptance letters. Scholarships. Medical programs. Universities from all over the country. Some of the best schools in the world. Every single one had offered her a full scholarship, but no one in this house knew. And they never would.
She opened her banking app. Balance: $42,680.
Four years of secret freelance IT work. Fixing security systems. Building software. Tracking vulnerabilities. Anonymous clients from around the world. Every dollar saved.
Ariana Hale had exactly one goal: freedom.
Her eyes moved to the calendar pinned above her desk. One date was circled in red. Graduation—7 Days.
Seven days until she finally left this house. Seven days until she would never hear Veronica’s voice again. Seven days until Madison’s cruel laughter would stop echoing in school hallways. Seven days until she would start the life she had been secretly building for years.
Ariana opened a new document. Inside it was a detailed plan. Plane tickets. Travel documents. Scholarship confirmations. A fake graduation date she planned to tell her family. Every detail was carefully planned.
Because the moment she walked across that stage, she was disappearing. Forever.
Downstairs, the party grew louder. Music. Laughter. People celebrating in a house that had never once felt like a home.
Ariana closed her laptop slowly. They thought she was weak. They thought she was invisible. They thought they had broken her. But they were mistaken.
Because Ariana Hale had been quietly building her escape for years. And in exactly one week, she would vanish.
