A Bride For The Mafia King

A Bride For The Mafia King

By:  Marcy Lee  Completed
Language: English
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100Chapters
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After the mysterious death of her parents, Portia Esmeralda is bullied into a contract marriage by her two elder brothers who once loved her. But things start going pretty downhill when on her wedding day, the groom is nowhere to be seen and the guests are all killed. As well as her evil brothers. In order to end what would become a generational feud, and save her ill nephew, Portia agrees to marry Callahan Scarfoni - the monster who ruined her day and killed her terrible brothers. Callahan is a man scarred by his past and thirsty for revenge. His sole plan? Finish off the Esmeralda family till no one is left. Just like how they didn't spare his many years ago. But there's just one Esmeralda he just couldn't hurt, no matter what. Portia. She's his to tame. She's his possession, to own and protect.

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Comments
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Candace
Awesome it was a great book
2024-02-17 12:44:02
2
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schoolandkids
Enjoyed so much - I read it again!
2024-02-12 00:27:56
2
user avatar
madi
good book ...
2024-01-28 15:24:55
3
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schoolandkids
Great Story. Thank you
2024-01-28 12:30:47
1
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C pamela
I'm loving this...
2024-01-19 23:02:50
1
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latasha
This was actually a nice change for a Mafia story, actually about mafia stuff with a love story twisted in vs the typical power hungry greedy slutty women or family mistreating her it had substance however, it felt like there were many loose ends left unanswered in the end. No sequel mentioned.
2024-02-23 03:10:45
0
100 Chapters
Pitch Black
Portia.I sigh as soft, feathery lace falls across my face. It's black and heavily stained from being tucked away for so many years, and the smell that clings to it makes my stomach churn. It's musty. Dry, and reeks with dust. I suppress the urge to fling it away because it belonged to my mother. It's the same one she wore on her wedding day. The same one my grandmother wore on her big day as well.Clove pink and discarded daisies are scattered, littering the stone floor. The huge, black woman who's been brought to help me prepare grumbles behind me. It's the fifth time she's wondering aloud why she has to work with an old, musty, smelly veil when a new one stays tucked in its box a few meters away. I move my foot, tossing the delicate clove pink about, before crushing it, impaling it's bright pink petal with my heel.It's my wedding day, but it feels like a funeral. No, a funeral would have been better. My funeral.Wish I had it a while ago.The strong, heady smell of the pink carnat
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Death
PortiaI don't know for how long I lay passed out. I don't feel anything but dryness. I don't smell anything but musty dampness. I swallow hard to keep from retching. Cold is seeping into my body, stiffening my muscles, making them hurt.I hear the sound of cars moving in the distance.“Get the fuck up, you animal!”I cough as a familiar pain hits my right side. I curl away from it, turn my face the other way, but it comes again. Stronger. Harder. More cruel.I groan.“What are you? Sleeping beauty? If you don't get the hell up from there, I swear I'm going to kill you!”The rough baritone registers into my subconscious mind. Vincent. My brother. No surprise there. You'd think after years of getting whipped, slapped and battered by him, I would've gotten used to the feel of his boot by now. What can I say? I'm equally a disappointment in that regard.“Stop attacking her. She's not the one who put us here,” another voice says.Gregory. My other brother. The slightly, less insane one.“
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Blood
Portia“Well, well, well. Who do we have here?” Vincent is the first to speak up, taking a step toward the man like the stupid loser he is.The boss's lips curls upward as though in amusement, and I watch him with bated breath as it takes the most minute tilt of his head to have a soldier charging at my brother, shoving him back to the floor.The man's eyes flit to me now as though he's curious, and my heart beat faster at how deeply those blue eyes twisted the knots in my belly. It feels like forever, the both of us, holding each other's gazes, neither wanting to look away first until he gives up, scanning Gregory and Nathan, who is still passed out. What the hell did they do to him?“And him? The boy.” he says suddenly. I don't blink. They're the first words I hear from him, and his voice, fuck, his voice is deep — almost like a rough growl but a low one. I start wondering how a growl can sound so quiet. It's without a doubt firm, and assets the control he possesses. I get the feel
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Gun
PortiaGregory is looking at Vincent motionless on the floor, half of Vincent's head missing. He's next. Heknows it. I know it. And he begins to whimper as Callahan takes hold of his hair and forces him to look him in the eyes, while my uncle prepares the next shot."Where is he?" Callahan asks. Same question.Gregory drags his gaze from Vincent. He's shaking. My two brothers, both cowards when they're outgunned and outsmarted.I only wish it lasted longer. They deserve to suffer. Doesn't he know that? Doesn't he want that?"Where. Is. Fernando?" Callahan asks again. It'll be the last time he asks. I know it.Gregory glances sideways to Vincent momentarily before shifting his gaze back to Callahan, then to my uncle. He's trembling now. He used to laugh at me when I trembled."Please," he begs.Callahan releases him with a disgusted expression on his face and steps back. I guess he doesn't want to get his nice suit dirty. That alone is the signal my uncle needs to pull the trigger aga
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Pretty Girl
CallahanI've always hated Heathcliff Esmeralda. He always struck me as a lost cause. A petty, opportunistic piece of shit.Never trust your man who turned on his own family.The girl is arguing something, but I don't stop to listen. I don't care. They'll figure it out. She's safe, for now. So is the kid.“Are you going soft, Brother?" Antonio asks me.I don't dignify the question with a response. He knows better. Or he should, at least.I strip off my jacket, toss it aside when I walk into the main part of the house. I've only been back a few times since my return from the dead. Couldn't take a chance on being seen. Not before I interrupted that wedding.Dust cloths are still strewn over most of the furniture and I stop to glance at the pieces that have been uncovered. At the paintings of my family. Another of my ancestors.The ancestors are easier to look at. I didn't know them. They don't mean much to me. But I move to the one of my mother. My father commissioned it when they got e
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Dress
Callahan"Take off your dress," I tell her. Her eyes narrow and she cocks her head to the side. She's petulant.A giant-sized pain in the ass.But a nagging voice tells me there's more than those things. It'd be simple if she were just those things. And I know exactly what it is. She's loyal. A trait not easily come by in my line of work. She humiliated herself, threw herself at my feet to save her brother.It's too bad she's loyal to the wrong side."Are you hard of hearing?" I ask. She just glares.I gesture to the gown. “It's dirty. You're covered in blood and brains. Not to mention it's fucking ugly. Idon't want you to dirty my things."Her eyebrows rise on her forehead. “You don't want me to dirty your things?”"Correct.""I want my veil. Your goon wouldn't let me get my veil before he dragged me out of there."I snort at that, take off my shoes and socks, undo my belt and pants. I turn and walk toward the bathroom, stopping at the door to look back at her momentarily."I though
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Salt Air
PortiaI stand at the wall and watch the door close. I don't breathe until it does. I don't move until his footsteps have receded and a full minute has passed.Punish her cousin.Shit.He could have threatened to throw me back into the cell. Could have threatened me bodily harm. But he's too clever for that. He knows I'll obey if he threatens Nathan.Face down, ass up.I can't even begin to think about that part because, what the hell just happened?And the comment about no one coming in. Who would come in? My uncle? I'm an enemy to every single person in this house. I guess he wants to be sure I'm in one piece when he gets back to do what he thinks he's going to do.I shake my head, try to clear that thought and the ones that follow. Because I'm not stupid. He doesn't need my permission to do anything.I look down at myself, at the torn, ruined dress, then shift my gaze around the room. I thought maybe we were at Fernando's compound where he'd been keeping me the days leading up to t
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Silver Platter
Portia While I'm here I search through the drawers to see if there's anything I can use as a weapon, if I need to.I chuckle to myself at the thought.If I need to.I will need to. He's told me what he plans to do. Is that really the only reason my cousin and I are alive?And is Nathan truly alive? Or did he just say that to appease me? To ensure I wouldn't fight too hard when he lays his hands on me?I wish I could trust his words that Nathan was really okay. But you don't trust a man scarred and blinded by revenge.You don't.No. I can't think about that. Nathan is alive. I have to believe that. I return to the bathroom and pull the towel off my head. Rummaging through his drawers, I find a brush. I meet my reflection and peer closer, shifting my gaze to the right to see the bruise high on my cheekbone where the skin is cut.Probably happened on the floor of the cell. I'm surprised I'm not more badly hurt although my head aches. Setting the brush down, I open the medicine cabinet a
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Subtle Poison
CallahanI can't help but wonder if Portia felt anything at all, watching her brothers executed. She barely flinched. What could they have done to her to make her hate them so much? They're her brothers for crying out loud. Her own flesh and blood.I'm sitting in the boardroom along with Antonio, two of the family attorneys, my uncle and two representatives from the charity to which I've made a sizeable donation. Diamente didn't accompany me to this meeting. This is the legitimate side of things. He's in charge of the other side.One of the women is ogling me from across the table and I'm trying to avoid having to look at her. I'm only half-listening as I turn the diamond link on my cuff around and around, bored out of my skull.“Callahan," Uncle David starts. "Are you even listening?" He smiles to the women and gestures for me to get my head out of my ass and pay attention. But I can't be fucking bothered."No, not really, Uncle." I get to my feet as he clears his throat, looking ann
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Fury
CallahanCerberus, my German Shepherd, enthusiastically greets me when enter the house. I smile, crouching down to pet him. He's been with me for two years. A loyal companion.Antonio is spending the night in town. I can't blame him. I'm not a lot of fun these days and now that we're back in the land of the living, he's making up for lost time.Servants have cleaned more of the house in my absence. More dust cloths removed, almost the whole of the downstairs looking lived-in now.The house is huge. Well, it's a compound, a safe place. It should have been, at least, and it will be again now that I'm back. For all intents and purposes, the island is only accessible by sea or air. Guards stationed in a watchtower. The building itself is six centuries old. A castle for a nobleman whose name I can't remember.Another damn thing I can't remember.My family purchased the house more than five-hundred years ago when the owner's family fell out of favor with the ruling party at the time. We've
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