Masuk“Six million,” the translator said. “And your daughter belongs to the Moretti family.” I wasn't a bride; I was a debt settlement. Sold to settle my father's gambling debts, I was handed over to the most feared man in the underworld: Dante Moretti. They call him the #SilentDon. He hasn't spoken a word in five years, ruling the city through cold violence and terrifying shadows. He is a #PossessiveAlpha who doesn't negotiate—he owns. But I have a secret. I’m not just a trophy wife. I am a #SecretGenius, a master strategist who can dismantle an empire before the first shot is fired. I thought I could outsmart a man who doesn't speak. I thought this #ArrangedMarriage was my cage, but I was wrong. Dante didn’t buy me for my beauty. He bought me for my mind. He’s been watching me for years, waiting for the perfect moment to trap me in his world. In this #MafiaRomance, the stakes are lethal. As rivals circle and blood spills, I realize the most dangerous thing about the Silent Don isn’t his silence—it’s the way he looks at me when we’re alone. I am bound to a monster. And the only thing more dangerous than being his enemy? Being his obsession.
Lihat lebih banyakChapter 22: The Thermal DebtThe wind didn't just blow; it screamed, a high-pitched, banshee wail that tore through the jagged remains of the fuselage. Snow was piling up against the broken aluminum walls, sealing us into a tomb of white and silver.I dragged Dante’s heavy, unresponsive body into the cramped corner of the tail section, my muscles screaming in protest. Every inch of my skin felt like it was being flayed by microscopic razors of ice. My silk dress, once a symbol of my gilded cage, was now a wet, frozen rag clinging to my shivering frame."Dante, breathe," I choked out, my teeth chattering so hard I could barely form the words.He lay against the sub-zero metal, his skin the color of ash. The massive gash on his ribs had stopped bleeding, but only because the cold was beginning to freeze the edges of the wound. His breath was a shallow, hitching rattle."Don't you dare die," I hissed, grabbing his face with my numb hands. "You spent six million on me. You don't get
Chapter 21: The Velocity of BetrayalThe scream of the jet’s engines was a physical assault, a high-pitched wail of dying machinery that vibrated through my very teeth. Gravity became a predatory force, dragging us toward the floor as the cabin tilted at a nauseating forty-five-degree angle.Dante didn’t let go of my throat. Even as the emergency lights flickered to a hellish, rhythmic red, his grip remained an iron shackle. The cold barrel of the .45 pressed into my temple, a silent, lethal question."I didn't do it!" I shrieked over the roar of the depressurizing cabin. "Dante, look at me! If I wanted to destroy you, I would have done it in the penthouse! I wouldn't be on a falling plane with you!"Dante’s eyes were two pits of black ink. The obsession was still there, but it had curdled into something far more dangerous: the rage of a predator who realized he’d invited the blade into his own bed."Father," he rasped. It wasn't a question. It was a curse."He lied to both of u
Chapter 20: The Coldest HearthThe private jet leveled out at thirty thousand feet, the cabin humming with a low, vibrating silence that felt more dangerous than the gunfire on the tarmac.Dante didn't move from the leather sofa. He sat with his shirt discarded, a jagged, ugly gash slashing across his ribs. He refused the local anesthetic. He just sat there, his eyes—dark, bottomless, and utterly fixed on me—as I knelt between his thighs with a needle and surgical thread."You’re staring again," I whispered, my voice tight. "Does it help the pain? Or are you just making sure your investment doesn't sprout wings and fly out the emergency exit?"Dante didn't reach for his notepad. He reached for my wrist, his fingers circling the bone with a bruising pressure. He pulled my hand away from his wound, forcing me to look him in the eye."Mine," he rasped. It wasn't a claim this time. It was a threat."I am a person, Dante! Not a territory you conquered!" I tried to yank my hand back,
Chapter 19: The Runway DebtThe rain was a vertical sheet of iron, drumming against the roof of the armored SUV as we tore across the tarmac. The private jet was a silver ghost in the distance, its turbines already whining with a high-pitched, impatient scream."Dante, you're leaning!" I shouted, grabbing his shoulder as the car swerved.He didn't answer. He couldn't. His face was a mask of grey marble, his hand clamped over the jagged hole in his side. Blood was seeping through his fingers, staining the white leather of the seat—a six-million-dollar mess for a six-million-dollar bride."Lorenzo, how close?" I barked."Thirty seconds! But they’ve got the perimeter blocked with three black vans!" Lorenzo yelled back, his foot floored. "They aren't trying to capture you anymore, Bianca. They’re trying to scrap the whole car!"Dante’s eyes snapped open. He didn't look at the vans. He looked at me. He reached out with his clean hand and grabbed the back of my neck, hauling me toward
Chapter 2: The Gilded CageI woke up to the smell of rain and expensive leather.My head throbbed, a sharp reminder of the needle that had pierced my skin. I wasn’t in a car anymore. I was lying on a bed so large it felt like an island, draped in sheets of black silk that felt like cold water again
Chapter 1: The Blood Debt"Five million."The voice was cold, echoing through the empty cathedral where the deal was being struck.My father’s hands shook as he gripped the back of my chair. "She’s worth ten, Moretti. Look at her. She’s not just a face. She’s the best strategist in the tri-state ar
Chapter 5: The Council’s JudgmentThe grand dining hall felt more like a courtroom.Twelve men sat around a table of polished obsidian. They were the "Old Guard"—the capos who had built the Moretti empire on bone and betrayal. They didn't look like businessmen. They looked like vultures waiting f
Chapter 4: The Mark of the Romanovs The master suite doors slammed shut, locking us in. Dante didn’t let go of my wrist. He hauled me toward the center of the room, his grip like a shackle. "Let go!" I shoved at his chest, my palms hitting cold, damp silk. "I saved your men at the bridge.
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