Taken By The Mafia Lord

Clara didn't know why but she felt insecure. At first, she had been over the moon when Marcel promised to give their relationship a go, but now she wasn't so sure anymore.

Marcel didn't call her as promised and she had been mad at him but for a while, forgiving him after she surmised he must have been busy. After all, with his kind of work, it must have skipped his mind.

Which was why she would take the bull by the horn this time. Marcel has given her the free reins, it was all up to her now to win his heart. He didn't need to do a thing; she would win his love.

So Clara woke up quite early in the morning to make breakfast. And by making breakfast, she meant watching over world-acclaimed chefs as they prepared the food according to her taste and direction.

Clara has never done any domestic work since the day she was born. The monarchy system might have been abolished, but Clara was treated like the princess she was. Hence, she was a disaster in the kitchen and couldn't even differentiate a microwave oven from a dishwasher.

"That is an interesting development," Diana mused upon stepping into the kitchen, surprise etched on her face. Her daughter was standing beside one of the chefs, watching him work and comparing the food he prepared with the image of the food on her phone.

"I think the ketchup design is a bit awry," Clara complained, a furrow on her brows with her lips set on a thin line. Wasn't the man a professional chef? Clara was barely holding herself from erupting in anger.

It was egg on toast with a rich taste of Heinz ketchup. The pop of color was supposed to go in a zigzag motion across the egg on toast and it did - except there was a slight deviation and Clara was currently pinching the space between her brows.

Everything was supposed to go well, she wanted this meal to be perfect for Marcel! Ugh! These frustrating staff! Why can't they ever do something right! Clara was furious.

"I'll sorry, Ma'm," The chef could only apologize, red-faced at his carelessness. And Clara didn't fail to remind him of that by berating him.

"Clara?" Diana finally stepped in when she saw her daughter going too far. She had in the process of giving her daughter the best life spoiled her rotten. Clara didn't share the same level of compassion and consideration she had for other people.

"Mother?" Clara turned to her with a stressed look as if the chef just committed an abomination.

"What's wrong, my dear?" Diana pulled her closer to her, rubbing her hand down her arm tenderly, calming her.

"T-this was supposed to go well!" Clara threw her hands in the air, "What if Marcel doesn't like it? Would they take responsibility for that?!" Clara was frustrated.

"Hey," Her mother called, cupping her cheeks and forcing her gaze to remain on her, "You have to calm down,"

But she shook her head stubbornly, not that her mother let her.

"Listen, whether the food is perfect or not, Marcel would take it because he likes you," Diana told her.

But Clara grimaced, "Well, that's the problem, I'm not sure he even likes me which is why I'm trying so hard to be the one to bridge that gap in his heart."

"But he's willing to try," Her mother pointed out, "That's progress, Clara. Moreover, the chef is going to redo the whole thing, you shouldn't be stressed. It's going to be well,"

Thanks to her mother's advice, Clara was able to calm down. The truth is that the little mistake made by the chef was not even the source of Clara's anger, she was just anxious.

Clara knew what she stood to lose if her relationship with Marcel fails. She broke off things with Luther and was going all in with her fiancé. If that doesn't work out, she was doomed.

Thanks to their efficiency and professionalism, the Chefs were done in no time and Clara dressed up to go see Marcel. She wore a bodycon dress that stopped at her mid-thigh.

Complimented about her beauty throughout her life and accompanied with a long line of professional trainers tasked with keeping her fit, Clara was confident in her body. With her hourglass shape, she was the envy of thousands of women around the world.

This time Clara drove to Marcel's place by herself. She was being careful so no one messes with her mood like that stupid chef from earlier.

Sadly for Clara, enemies were bound to meet on a narrow road because the moment she reached Marcel's place, it was the same time Victor climbed out of his own ride as well.

For a minute, none of them made a move, they just stared each other down while taking in their appearance.

Clara simply gauged Victor, wondering if he was worth the trouble. The last time they met was solid proof to Clara that Victor didn't like her and though it bothered her at first, it didn't anymore. Whether he liked her or not, that would not stop her from being with Marcel.

No matter how close Victor was to Marcel, his tantrum would not change his mind. Their union was already approved by both parents and wouldn't be dissolved easily without serious backlash. In one conclusion, Victor was useless to her. So boy bye!

Victor narrowed his gaze at Clara, what was this woman doing here this early morning? Marcel surely can't be serious with her? Gosh, this was unbelievable.

Simultaneously, both of them turned the other way, and though they were heading in the same direction, both spaced out.

Clara was the first to go in while hoping the door hit Victor on his way in. It wasn't hard to find Marcel after questioning one of his underlings.

Her fiancé was in his office, head lowered and absorbed in his thoughts. That distraction gave her extra time to brace herself and when she was ready, intentionally sashayed over to him.

"Babe!"