Mafia King's First Love

Cloe Williams stepped out of the airport, the hum of arriving passengers and the faint scent of jet fuel clinging to the air. She scanned the crowd with growing unease. Where was Ethan? Her heart raced as she searched for a familiar face, but there was no sign of him. No sign of anyone from the Taylor family. Her brow furrowed, fingers tightening around the handle of her suitcase. This wasn't like Ethan. He had promised to be here.

The air outside the terminal was cool, a slight breeze brushing against her skin, yet it did little to calm her racing thoughts. As she stood there, the noise around her seemed to fade-airport taxis honking, travelers greeting loved ones-but none of it registered. She was too absorbed by the gnawing disappointment building inside her.

Just as she was about to reach for her phone, a sleek black car pulled up beside her. The door opened, and a man stepped out, sharply dressed in a black suit. He smiled warmly, though Cloe's eyes narrowed in confusion.

"Miss Williams?" His voice was polite but unfamiliar.

Cloe stared at him, her heart skipping a beat. "Yes?" she replied cautiously, her fingers twitching slightly, as if bracing for something she didn't quite understand.

"I'm Danny. Mrs. Taylor sent me to pick you up from the airport. Welcome home."

Her stomach twisted at the words. Mrs. Taylor? She felt her breath catch in her throat. Not Ethan?

"Where is Ethan?" Her voice came out sharper than intended, her gaze locking on him as though the force of her question alone could change the answer.

Danny's smile faltered slightly, though he maintained his professionalism. "I suppose he's busy," he said with a casual shrug.

The words hit her like ice water. Busy? He hadn't come for her-again. Her pulse quickened, and she suddenly felt frozen, standing still as the world around her kept moving. Luggage carts rattled nearby, people hurried past her, yet all of it blurred into the background. Her chest felt tight, her mind buzzing with questions she didn't want to ask. Why didn't he come?

For a moment, she couldn't move, couldn't even breathe. It felt like the ground had shifted beneath her feet. She forced herself to nod, though her mind screamed in disbelief. This wasn't how it was supposed to go.

Danny reached for her suitcase, his movements fluid and unhurried, but Cloe barely noticed. The weight of disappointment settled over her shoulders like a heavy cloak, making the warm glow of the airport's lights feel distant and cold. She allowed herself to be guided to the car, her body moving on autopilot, but inside, her thoughts were a storm.

As the car door closed behind her, she stared blankly out the window, the city lights reflecting in her wide, unseeing eyes. Ethan wasn't here. Why? And more hauntingly, what did this mean?

------

The car rolled to a stop in front of the towering gates of Taylor Mansion. Cloe's heart quickened as she gazed up at the grand estate, its familiar stone walls and perfectly manicured gardens bathed in the soft glow of twilight. This was the place she grew up, the place that had taken her in after her parents passed. It wasn't just a house-it was her entire past, her safety, her dreams.

As the gates opened, her thoughts raced ahead. After years of studying medicine abroad, she was finally back, and this time as Dr. Cloe Williams. She smiled softly to herself. Soon, she would become Cloe Taylor-Ethan's wife. Their childhood love, once just a dream, was now on the verge of becoming reality. The years they spent imagining a life together, the whispered promises-they were all leading to this moment.

The car came to a gentle halt near the entrance, and Cloe stepped out, her gaze sweeping the familiar surroundings. The scent of jasmine filled the evening air, but something felt... off. The mansion loomed before her, silent and still. The grand oak doors remained closed, and the windows were dark, empty of any welcoming glow. No one came to greet her-not even at the gate.

Danny unloaded her suitcase with practiced ease, placing it on the cobblestones beside her. Cloe stood there, her mind whirling with confusion. Where was everyone? She had expected someone-anyone-from the family to be waiting for her. Ethan, at the very least, should have been standing by the door with that smile she had missed so much.

She shifted her weight, eyes scanning the front of the mansion. Her stomach tightened with a growing unease. What was going on?

This is not your home

Cloe stepped into the mansion, her heels clicking softly against the marble floor. The grand hallway stretched out before her, just as she remembered-ornate chandeliers, polished surfaces gleaming under the golden light. But something felt different. All the butlers and maids had stopped in their tracks, staring at her with wide, astonished eyes.

She could feel their gaze on her, and she glanced around, noticing how they held their breath, as if seeing her for the first time. Cloe had changed since she last stood in these halls-taller, more confident, her long, orange hair cascading down her back, glowing against her pearl-white skin. Her green eyes flickered like ocean waves, and her slim figure seemed to command attention without a word. Every smile directed her way was one of admiration, but also hesitation, as if they knew something she didn't.

Before she could take another step, a cold, sharp voice cut through the air.

"So, you finally arrived."

Cloe froze. The voice echoed with an edge of disdain that sent a chill down her spine. Slowly, she turned and saw Elizabeth Taylor standing at the top of the staircase. Her imposing figure was framed by the dim light, but it wasn't Elizabeth that made Cloe's heart stop-it was the woman beside her.

Sofia Roth.

Her childhood enemy. The woman who always seemed to hover around Ethan, like a shadow, always competing for his attention. And now, here she was, standing beside his mother. Cloe's smile faltered, confusion clouding her features.

What was Sofia doing here?

Gathering herself, Cloe smiled and spoke, "Hello, Elizabeth. I'm back home."

The room seemed to hold its breath. All the butlers and maids exchanged uneasy glances, shifting uncomfortably. Something was wrong, and everyone seemed to know it but her.

Elizabeth's eyes narrowed, a mocking smirk curling her lips. "Home? Huh."

The word dripped with venom, and Cloe's chest tightened. She couldn't understand why Elizabeth was behaving this way. Where was the warmth, the welcome she had expected? Why did she feel like an outsider in the very place she called home?

Elizabeth descended the stairs, her heels echoing with each deliberate step. Sofia followed closely, her expression cold and filled with loathing. As they approached, Sofia's eyes flared with anger and-was it fear? Cloe noticed the way Sofia's hands trembled slightly before she clung tightly to Elizabeth's arm. Her knuckles whitened as she squeezed, her nervousness betraying her calm facade.

Sofia was scared. Cloe could feel it, see it in her eyes. The way she glanced at Cloe's figure with a flicker of panic-if Ethan saw her now, there was no way he would give her up. Sofia's lips thinned, her brows creasing with desperation as she held on to Elizabeth for reassurance.

Elizabeth gave Sofia a subtle nod, as if to calm her, before turning her full attention to Cloe. Her gaze was sharp, unforgiving.

"This is not your home, Cloe Williams."

The words slammed into Cloe like a blow, knocking the air from her lungs. She froze, her body stiffening as the weight of the moment settled over her. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Her heart pounded in her chest as she looked around, helpless, searching for any sign that this was a mistake. The butlers and maids avoided her gaze, their silence suffocating, as if they too were part of this unspoken betrayal.

Cloe's throat tightened as Elizabeth's words echoed in her mind. **Not her home?** Everything felt wrong-this wasn't how she had imagined her return. She felt a hollow pit form in her stomach as she stood there, alone and unwelcome, the life she had dreamed of with Ethan now hanging by a thread.

Her gaze flickered to Sofia, whose lips curled into a slight, triumphant smirk. It was then that Cloe realized-something had changed, and not for the better.