Accidentally Kidnapped the Warlord and Became His Wife

I should have known something was wrong the moment he groaned like a goddamn porn star.But I must have lost my mind first.That was the only explanation as to why I was half-naked in a candlelit honeymoon suite, clutching a second glass of wine like it was holy water while a gagged, hooded man lay tied to the bed like a sacrificial offering.I downed the rest of the glass in one burning gulp. My hand was shaking.This wasn’t normal. This wasn’t sane. This was Sadie’s idea.“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” I muttered into the phone and scurried to the bathroom. The heels I wore clicked against the floor, echoing off the soft jazz and the damn romantic scent of vanilla candles and roses. “I’m going to hell. I’m going to jail and then hell.”“You’re welcome in advance, Rainey,” chirped my best friend—and future lawyer—before I could even scream.“I’m about to climb on top of a man who’s gagged, blindfolded, and tied up like a hostage. What part of this doesn’t sound like something you’

I didn’t know how long I stood frozen in that doorway, clutching a bag full of scandalous shame and too many questions.I couldn’t knock. Couldn’t confront him.Her.Them.Not when I still felt sore between my legs after mistakenly fucking a stranger. All I could do was stare at that closed door behind me and wonder how many more secrets this hallway could hold.Then I forced myself to move, one foot after the other, until I finally made it to the lobby.I marched straight to the front desk, barely able to breathe through the rage and adrenaline choking me. The receptionist looked up, startled by the sudden force of my arrival. She was young, overly cheerful, and too caffeinated to be prepared for me.“Hi,” I said sweetly, faking the kind of voice I usually reserved for formal dinners or meetings with my father’s clients. “I need to check out of room 812.”She nodded, typing quickly. “Of course, Ms. Redmond. How was your stay?”“Unforgettable,” I said dryly. “But actually, I was hopin

“Please. Just walk me down the aisle, Dad.”His jaw twitched. The man hated surprises, especially the kind that made headlines. But after a long pause, pride warring with protocol, he offered me his arm.Victory. Check.We started walking.And oh, the sounds. The rustling. The whispered names. The not-so-subtle gasps. The frantic clicking of a hundred camera shutters.Some stood, confused. Some sat frozen in morbid fascination. No one understood what was happening. But no one looked away.Ezra was waiting at the altar like a perfect mannequin. White tuxedo. Chiseled features. Confusion just beginning to curl his brow.He saw the dress first.Then my face.Then the panic.He gave me that smile, the one he always used in front of people. The darling, be reasonable smile. The don’t ruin the optics smile. I didn’t smile back.The music faded. The officiant stepped forward, clearing his throat like any of this was normal. “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today—”“Save it,” I said cle

I barely registered the grand house as we arrived.A blur of manicured lawns, jagged cliffs meeting a glinting sea, the low purr of the engine cutting through the quiet. It should’ve struck me how breathtakingly secluded it was. The kind of place designed for fairy tales or well-buried secrets. But Misha had me pinned with nothing but a look.And suddenly, I couldn’t tell if I was the runaway bride or the girl being swept into a story she didn’t understand.We barely made it inside before he kissed me again—hot, hungry, desperate like the hours before had been torture. Maybe they had. For both of us.He swept me into his arms like it was instinct, like carrying me was something he was born knowing how to do. And maybe I should’ve said something, asked what the hell we were doing, or where the hell this was going, but my throat locked around the words.Up the stairs. Down the hallway.Through the door.Then the world tilted.The bed caught me like a gasp. Cool sheets under my spine. W

My blood iced over.I couldn’t move, just stood frozen in the hallway, heart pounding like a war drum in my ears. That was Misha’s voice. And I felt like I knew it like my own heartbeat after what we did last night. But the tone?It was like a robot doing its task.Like I was a job well done.My skin crawled as I peeked around the edge of the doorway. Misha held his phone as the call ended, back to me, relaxed like the world hadn’t just tilted off its axis. Then he turned. And in an instant, everything changed.The warmth drained from his face like a switch had flipped. His starless dark eyes locked on me. The scar slashed on his left cheek sharpened like a warning. Predator.I was prey."What are you doing here?” he asked, voice too quiet.My throat closed around a dozen questions. I forced myself to breathe. “I—what’s going on? Just now—what did that mean? Mission success? What di