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‘Belong to You’ by Sabrina Claudio played as he peeled the silk strap of my nightdress down my shoulder until my breasts were exposed.
It was wrong. I shouldn’t want him. I shouldn’t even be here. He was off limits. Dangerous. Sin wrapped in a sturdy body. A line I should never have crossed And tonight? Tonight was my wedding night. It was supposed to be the happiest night of my life— but I wasn't in my husband's bed. I was miles away, in the arms of a man I just met. He was younger. Dark espresso eyes. A chiseled jaw. Straight nose. Brows carved to perfection. A prominent tattoo on his neck—a stylized crown. His cologne was addictive. It smelled like trouble. Yet every part of me ached for him. Was it... Too late to walk away? Or had I already crossed the line? Six hours earlier... The wedding bells echoed through the air as I walked down the aisle with my father. It still felt surreal. After so many heartbreaks, I was about to tie the knot with him. Androa Morvanti. The richest man in the city, a man whose name alone commanded the city’s respect. He could have had anyone. Women who wore diamonds to bed. Women who never glance at tags in the mall. Yet he chose me. “Are you nervous?” my father asked. I glanced at him. He wore the biggest smile tonight. The proud dad witnessing the wedding of his only child. Had Mom not lost her life to cancer? She'd probably be here too. “My feet are shaky, father,” I whispered. “Please, don't let me fall.” He met my gaze. “Not a chance.” The moment I saw my groom, the knot in my stomach melted and was replaced by butterflies. We arrived under the arch and my father turned back. My heart pounded as I faced my groom. “I, Androa Morvanti, take you, Madeline Bennett, to be my lawfully wedded wife. To have and to hold until death do us part.” “I, Madeline Bennett, take you, Androa Morvanti, to be my lawfully wedded husband. To have and to hold until death do us part.” “I pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride.” An applause rippled across the garden as Androa wrapped his arms around my waist and leaned down. The kiss was brief. Polite. Not the kind that stole breath or sparked warmth in my chest. When he pulled back— he was smiling at the guests. Not at me. I smiled and tried not to let that bother me. We turned to the guests as they approached us, exchanging smiles and pleasantries until a lady in a red dress approached us. She was younger. Slender. Hair swept to the side to reveal a diamond necklace. It was the way she looked at Androa— like someone who knew him far too well. “Well, well, well… the latest couple in town.” She drawled. “Congratulations to you, Mr. and Mrs. Morvanti.” Something passed between them. Gone so quickly I thought I'd imagined it. “Sorry. Do you two know each other?” Androa glanced at me. “She's family.” I blinked. Of course, I'd only known him for a month. There was no way I could have known every member of his family so soon. I extended a hand. “I'm Madeline.” She stared at my hand. “Elisa.” My cheeks burned as I lowered my hand. “I'll see you around,” Androa said dismissively. He placed a hand at the small of my back, guiding me away toward the Morvanti Grand Ballroom. But his gaze kept drifting to her. The doors of the grand ballroom opened as we approached, revealing crystal chandeliers and tables draped in silk. Guests cheered. Cameras flashed as we stepped onto the platform, fed each other cake, and shared a sip of wine. Then I caught Elisa looking at me. She stood at the back of the room, a wine glass in hand. Slowly, she lifted her glass toward me in a silent toast. My breath caught. I turned to Androa, but he was smiling for the cameras again. The guests clapped as Androa led me to the floor for our first dance. And the night unfolded like a flower. Soon the guests left, their laughter and chatter fading into the night. Androa and I saw them off at the terrace. Footsteps approached us. My father. He glanced at Androa. “Please, take good care of my daughter.” Androa nodded. No words. I went into his embrace. “I'll miss you, Dad.” It didn't matter how old I was. Whether four or forty. I was still that little girl who always wanted to make him proud. He smiled. “I'll miss you too, dear.” My chest tightened and tears spilled watching him go. Alone, but at least he was finally at peace, knowing I was 'settled'. “Go on. Freshen up. I'll soon be with you,” Androa said. He kissed my cheek and headed away. I traced my way to my bedroom. My heart raced as I showered and slipped into one of the lacy night dresses I'd bought specially for tonight. Doused myself in perfume and slid under the covers. An hour passed. But there was no sign of Androa. “Androa?” I stepped into the hallway and it was empty. Not a member of the staff in sight. Something felt… off. Then I heard it— a moan coming from the last room. “Yes, baby! F*ck me harder!” Elisa. Maybe she was with one of the guests— Then a second voice answered her. “Yes, baby. You like that?” My stomach twisted. No. Androa? I pushed the door open and stopped. Elisa was straddling my husband—the man who had just promised to hold me until death—on the bed we were supposed to share.—Madeline—I paced the room; one hand on my lips and the other grasping my waist. The last thing I should be doing was fantasying when my whole world was shattering.I walked to the chair and collapsed into it.It was time I found out what kind of family I had married into— the secret they were hiding in the dark.I let out a breath and turned to the computer. With trembling fingers, I began searching. Before the wedding, I had looked into Androa Morvanti myself and everything had come up clean.Too clean. Too spotless. Androa Morvanti was a business tycoon with a company into Luxury and Tech. There were brief mentions of an estranged son. Nothing more.So I sat straighter and searched for ‘Dominic Morvanti.’Send.The page loaded. Nothing.No photographs. No interviews. No public appearances.I found that very strange.It was as though someone had erased him from the internet. No accounts. No digital footprint anywhere.Wait. Was he a ghost?No.Worse.He existed… exactly where he w
—Madeline— Ice flooded my veins. All my anxiety came rushing back as I shut the door behind me before facing him again, the key feeling heavy in my pocket. “I went for a walk.” Androa sat perfectly still. A picture of a man who had all the time in the world. One hand resting on my pillow. And the other tapping slowly against his knee. Silence stretched between us. “A walk? By this time?” “I didn’t realize anyone was waiting for me,” I said, surprised by how steady my voice sounded as I crossed the room toward the vanity. Desperate to put distance between us. Terrified he might catch Dominic's scent on me. “And shouldn't you be with your mistress?” Androa sighed. “I knew this is where your attitude is coming from.” My brows furrowed. “Where?” He stood and approached me. “You're jealous that I'm giving Elisa a great deal of my attention.” I moved in the other direction. “You really think that’s the problem?” “What else could it be?” “It’s the disrespect, A
—Madeline— My boldness surprised me. No one told me a good orgasm in the middle of my home would give me the guts to talk back at my cheating husband. I hurried into my room and leaned back against the door, my heart pounding so loudly I could hear it in my ears. A smile curved my lips. I had seen the way Androa and Elisa's eyes widened; they hadn't expected me to talk back, and to call them out for their staged apology. I was alone in my locked room. Yet I felt completely exposed. Flushed. Cunt still throbbing. Leaking the liquid evidence of a crime I already knew I would repeat. My legs pressed together by instinct, rubbing against the slickness of my release, sending a tingling sensation straight to my spine. The scent of him clung to my skin — intoxicating, raw and dark. Shame curled in my belly. This was wrong. I shouldn't — My body moved before I could think better of it. I dashed into the bathroom, stripped and went under the shower. Warm water gushed over my flush
—Dominic— “Is this the part where you pack your bag and leave my home?” Madeline asked, eyes fixed on Elisa. Elisa and Androa exchanged shocked glances. Silence fell in the foyer. I pulled out a fresh cigar and lit it. Twenty-four hours. Twenty-four hours away from this house pretending distance would clear my head. It didn’t. Not when traces of her followed me everywhere; on the plane, in the car, and the hotel suite. A silent obsession that made the high-stake meeting across the city feel like a distraction. The prototype gleamed under the lights. Sleek. Deadly. Beautiful. One pull of the trigger was enough to convince the client. “We'll take it,” he said. Of course, he did. “Fifty-eight,” I said. “How about fifty?” “A hundred.” He blinked hard and glanced at his men, then mine. He knew if he downplayed again, I would triple the price this time. They knew the rule. He was just stupid to mess with it. The champagne tasted great. But not enough to eras
—Madeline—The servants scampered out of the room, their footsteps echoing on the marble. The last one shut the door after him and silence settled in.TickTick.Tick.Except for the ticking of the grandfather clock in the room.Dominic exhaled, stood and locked the door, the final click sounding like a thunderclap.Heat twisted low in my stomach.No.I shouldn't have been looking at my stepson like something made to ruin me. He walked back to his chair and sat.Like it was all a game. Our game.To see whoever breaks first.“Get on your knees, Madeline. Crawl over,” he said, voice husky.I shook my head. “No. We shouldn't be doing this.”“I said, crawl over.”“Why don't you tell me first the type of business you're into?”His expression shifted into something more sinful, the smirk returning to his lips.“Still proving stubborn?”“As a Morvanti Lady, I need to know every family business.”He took another slow drag of his cigar— his dark eyes raking over me. He stood, and his shadow s
—Madeline— The sound of his voice slid down my spine like sin. Heat spread so fast through my chest that my breath caught. I glanced at the servants and was grateful they were occupied in the corner. None of them had heard him. Twenty-four hours. He had vanished from the mansion without a trace—only to reappear like nothing happened. Calm composure. Aviator glasses. Black shirt. And that knowing smile capable of unraveling me in seconds. Relief and shame coiled in my chest. How could I be this excited to see my stepson? He pulled out his chair and sat. “What? Cat got your tongue?” “I told you to stop calling me that,” I said, my voice a whisper, eyes flicking to the servants. He removed his glasses. “What?” “Little Bir—” I stopped myself. I hated how the name rolled off my tongue… how my body reacted to it. Like a brand my skin recognized instantly. “Your body likes it more than your mouth does.” “You're insufferable!” I spat. He laughed— the sou







