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Claimed by My Mafia Stepson
Claimed by My Mafia Stepson
Author: Pamela Ulu

CHAPTER 1

Author: Pamela Ulu
last update publish date: 2026-04-07 20:28:45

‘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.

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  • Claimed by My Mafia Stepson    CHAPTER 11

    —Madeline—“What do you want?” I asked.Elisa. She didn’t answer.She closed the door behind her and walked further into the room.No rushing. No anger.That was worse.Her gaze drifted lazily over everything. My suitcase. The vanity. The bed—as though she were inspecting something she intended to keep.“I just came to check on you,” she spoke at last.My fingers clenched at my sides.“How thoughtful.”Her smile deepened—just a fraction.“It must have been suffocating for you in this mansion... To have no one to talk to.”“Elisa, it’s one thing to pretend to care.”“Oh, I do.” She turned around and faced me, a hand poised in the air. “It must've been a lonely night.”“What are you talking about?” I feigned ignorance.“Androa. Did you wait up for him?”“Elisa—”She touched her chest. “I'm your friend, remember?”“Are you?”She strolled to the desk. “You know I am. Or why else would I be here?” She ran her fingers on the surface. “Don't tell me you're jealous he spent your wedding nigh

  • Claimed by My Mafia Stepson    CHAPTER 10

    —Madeline—The impact knocked the breath from my lungs, my hands flying to his chest.His hands slipped from his pockets with lightning speed, catching me by the upper arms to steady me. I looked up, and for a second, the hallway disappeared. There was only his cologne and the dark, fathomless depth of his eyes.I felt stripped bare.“Are you okay, Little Bird?”My breath caught. I took a back step away from him. Then another. “Stop calling me that. I'm Mrs. Morvanti now.”He didn't let go. If anything, his fingers tightened around me. A knowing smile curved his mouth. He leaned closer.“So… you do remember me.”“No,” I blurted breathlessly. “I don't remember you.”He tilted his head—slowly— his eyes tracing the line of my throat. “Are you sure? Because your pulse is telling me a different story.”He was right.My heart was thudding against my ribs so hard I was certain he could feel it through the soles of his shoes.I was a 911 operator, trained to be the calm in the center of so

  • Claimed by My Mafia Stepson    CHAPTER 9

    —Madeline—The air in the room felt too thin to breathe.No.The stranger I shared a passionate moment with last night was my husband’s estranged son?Why was he in the club last night? Wasn't he supposed to be somewhere—far away?I closed my eyes.Reopened them. He was still seated there, dressed in all black.Androa linked his arm through mine again. A fake smile played on his lips— the same hollow expression he'd worn throughout our wedding.“Meet my lovely wife, Madeline. Now, Mrs. Morvanti.”My gaze traveled back to him.Dominic.He didn't blink. Didn't move. Just watched me with the same hooded gaze that had seared my skin last night.My heart pounded.The morning sunlight felt too bright. Too sharp in contrast to the cold, heavy silence that'd followed in the living room.“Madeline.”He stripped the title away... leaving only my name hanging in the air like a forbidden secret as he reached for a glass of whiskey on the coffee table.“Have we met before?”“No, no,” I blurted and

  • Claimed by My Mafia Stepson    CHAPTER 8

    —Dominic—The ride to the mansion was long—too long. I leaned back against the leather seat as the city blurred past my window. It had been months. Maybe longer.I adjusted my cufflinks and met Marco's gaze through the rear mirror. He didn't say a word. Not immediately. He waited until we started up the hill leading to the mansion before he spoke.“You’ve already decided. Haven’t you?”I stared out the window. “I just have a feeling she's in trouble.”“She married him, sir. Not under a gun. What if this is what she chose?”“I’ve seen how he operates. He doesn’t hold a weapon to their heads—he holds the world hostage.”The iron gates of the Morvanti mansion swung open before us—already expecting me. I glanced at my father’s men stationed around the estate. Most of them already on my payroll.My men didn't wait for the convoy to come to a complete stop. They jumped out of the cars and scanned the perimeter.Marco was at my side instantly, his hand hovering near his holster as he opene

  • Claimed by My Mafia Stepson    CHAPTER 7

    —Dominic—“There’s a message. From your father,” Marco said as he walked into my office, his footsteps heavy.I didn't look at him.I stared out the window at the waves gently lapping the cliff. The island had been my place of isolation; my sanctuary away from the noise of the city and the whims of my father.I puffed the smoke from my cigar. The evening sun filtered through the cigar smoke, turning the gray clouds into gold.Marco paused a step behind me. “It's urgent,” he added carefully.I still didn't look at him.I extended my hand and he lowered the envelope on it. Exhaling, I slid a finger beneath the flap—and stopped.A wedding invitation.Another porcelain doll for the collection. Another girl to satisfy his selfish desires.My brows creased as I saw the date.Who sends an invitation on the day of their wedding?Foul play was written all over this. I knew my father. In his world— nothing happened by chance.My jaw tightened. A dull, familiar ache that only surfaced whenever I

  • Claimed by My Mafia Stepson    CHAPTER 6

    The quiet of the room was shattered as the glass met the floor. Whiskey spilled. Shards flew. The room was a mess. But I was a disaster—too mortified to blink. What had I done? The question echoed again in my head... louder this time. My chest heaved. Like I’d just outrun something I couldn’t name. Heat rushed to my face. Followed quickly by something colder. Panic? Shame? I took a step away from him. Then another. “I—I” My voice failed me. Nothing came out. Not even a lie. I didn’t even know what I was trying to say. Apologize? Explain? Pretend it hadn’t just happened? I left home broken because Androa had betrayed our marriage. And here I stood, just as terrible as him. Maybe worse. He hadn’t hesitated to be with his mistress… and neither had I. At least Androa knew what he was risking. I—on the other hand, didn’t even stop to care. I let someone I barely knew take me to a hotel suite and give me the best orgasm of my life. He made me feel cherished. Desired. My wh

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