LOGINShe was supposed to be the thief who stole from his empire. Instead, she became his wife. Arielle Vasquez wakes up bound to Matteo Moretti—a tattooed, ruthless enforcer of the Moretti clan, a bastard son burning with rage and a hunger for validation. Their marriage is a punishment, a cage of suspicion and hate. He sees her as a liar, a liability. She sees him as the enemy who stole her freedom. But the first night changes everything. She gasped as Matteo pinned her against the wall of their wedding suite, his breath hot against her throat, ink-dark eyes devouring her defiance. “You think you can play games with me, little thief?” he growled, his fingers digging into her hips, possessive, punishing. “I’ll break you before you break me.” Arielle lifts her chin, lips brushing his ear in a whisper. “Try it. I dare you.” As secrets unravel and betrayals cut deeper, the line between enemy and obsession blurs. Every touch during late-night raids, every heated argument that ends with her back against a wall and his mouth crashing down on hers, pulls them closer to surrender. But the real danger isn’t the Russians closing in. It’s the heartless man who’s starting to want her more than revenge. And the woman who’s beginning to crave the darkness he offers. In a world built on blood and power, love is the deadliest weapon of all.
View MoreArielle’s POVWe were still in the same position, I tied off the suture with trembling fingers, cut the thread, and pressed fresh gauze over the neat row of black stitches. Matteo hadn’t made a sound the entire time, just watched me with those unreadable eyes, his hand still resting lightly at the nape of my neck like an anchor.I sat back on my heels. The gown had slipped further, barely clinging to my hips now. I didn’t fix it. What was the point? He’d already seen everything the silk wasn’t hiding.“Done,” I said, voice steadier than I felt.He exhaled slowly through his nose. “Not bad for a civilian.”“I’ve stitched worse.” The words came out before I could stop them, too revealing.His brow lifted. “When?”I shook my head. “Doesn’t matter.”He studied me another long second, then his fingers flexed against my neck, not pulling, just… holding. “It matters to me.”The admission hung between us, quiet and dangerous.I swallowed. “You’re losing blood. You need to lie down.”“I need
ARIELLE'S POVLiora was waiting outside the training room when I stepped out, wiping sweat from my brow with the back of my hand. My muscles ached in a way that felt almost good—like proof I wasn’t completely helpless.“My lady,” she said, falling into step beside me. “The Don expects you at dinner tonight. Formal. I’ve laid out something appropriate.”I nodded, too tired to argue. We walked in silence for a while.Finally, I broke it. “Liora… What's it really like? Being a woman in this world?”She didn’t answer right away. We turned a corner, passed a framed oil painting of some grim-faced Moretti ancestor staring down like he was judging us both.“Most of us are tools,” she said quietly. “Pretty ones, sometimes useful ones, but tools all the same. You marry who they tell you to marry. You smile at the men who matter. You look away when they do things you’re not supposed to see. And if you’re lucky… your husband remembers your name more than once a year.”I swallowed. “And if you’
ARIELLE'S POV After the disastrous breakfast moment with Matteo and his associates, Liora approached me on my way out. I knew I was going to meet up with her for the training. But here she was, already in front of me. “Mr Nikolai Morretti does not like to be kept waiting, my lady. We must hasten up.” I bit my bottom lip, and walked with her. “What's he like? I don't think I got to meet him at the wedding. I said and she chuckled. “None of the Morretti's were present at the wedding with the Don. You should be careful, My lady.” She said calmly, but I knew those words had an even deeper meaning. One I wasn't ready for. We walked together. After some time, we appeared in front of the training room. It smelled of leather, sweat, and gun oil. Located, in east wing of the estate—high ceilings, mirrored walls on one side, padded mats on the floor, and racks of weapons that looked far too well-maintained to be decorative. Nikolai Moretti waited in the center of the mat, arms crossed, w
ARIELLE'S POV “Mother.”The word hung in the air and my stomach dropped, but I refused to let it show. Elena Moretti, his mother, stood there in her perfect black dress. Red lipstick and eyes raking over me like I was something scraped off the bottom of her designer heel.I've never felt so insignificant in my life. Matteo’s hand was still low on my waist, fingers lay possessively over the curve of my hip. I could feel the tension in the room, but his face remained calm. Elena’s gaze flicked to her son, then back to me. “So this is the little thief you’ve dragged into our family. Charming choice, Matteo. Truly.”I kept my voice steady, polite and almost sweet. “Good morning, Signora Moretti. I’m Arielle. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”If I was going to survive these people, I needed to be smart about it. “Pleasure? The only pleasure here will be watching you crawl out of this house in pieces when your lies are exposed.”I tilted my head, my smile never wavering. “I apprecia
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