Forced Bride of the Mafia King

Catalina Maria.I let go of my foster dad’s arm and climb the few steps to the altar where Lucas, my fiancé of two years is waiting for me. He is smiling and it’s that stupid, lopsided grin that makes my chest do this annoying fluttery thing. Lucas reaches for my hand as I step up. Through the veil, I see the way his eyes soften. He doesn’t let go of my hand even after I’m up. I chuckle—the crowd chuckles too. This is it. The day I marry my childhood best friend.The priest clears his throat, ready to start the intro of our wedding when a cosmic rumble creeps into the cathedral. At first, it’s faint. Maybe thunder? But no, it’s louder. Closer. Like…engines of powerful cars?Before I turn to see what’s happening, boom—the cathedral doors slam open so hard they practically fly off the hinges. The air explodes with many noises. Engines are roaring, tires are screeching, a rapid pop-pop-pop of gunfire goes through the ceiling. Dust rains down from the ceiling into everyone. Screams bounce

Catalina Maria.I have been in the same spot since they brought me to this bedroom. That was last night. I have not moved a limb, nor have I said a word. I’ve just sat here thinking about two things. What Lucas has done and what my life has become.That man… he is the Don of Maython City. The same one people say has a heart of thorns and the fury of a thousand men. Just looking into his eyes, I saw silver shards of something, and from the mannerless rust in his voice, I knew—I was doomed.On my wedding day, the day I thought I would be marrying my childhood best friend and love, I instead became the bride of the wicked Don of the city.A Don is just another title for the god of the city. He controls every gang, every elected governor, every government policy. Bullets and loyalties—those are the laws of a Don. In Maython City, a Don is untouchable. I have heard too many rumors about Salvador. They say he has no heart—not for men, not for women. He hates all equally. Lucas used to speak

Catalina Maria.I am pale.What is that heavy feeling on my knee? By the tense clench of his jaw, I know it’s exactly what I fear—it’s not his leg, it is not something thick in his pocket. But the way it shifts, soft at first, then hard against my knee, tells me the truth.It’s his manhood.I squeal in embarrassment and fear. I try to get away, but my movement yanks at my scalp. My breath stutters when I realize my hair is tangled around his necklace."Stay. Fucking. Put." he growls.There is pure terror in my spine so I cannot listen, not when he’s so close—too close—his mouth is just inches from my skin, his body is a wall of scary, tattooed muscle before me. I have to move. I don’t care if my hair ends up being chopped in half. I have a head full of hair, it will grow again.Forbiddingly, in an attempt to find space, my knee just had to center around him again! Salvador grunts, so startled by it that he ends up falling in between my legs. I gasp against his lips.My mouth is still

Catalina Maria.I step back as multiple plates are thrown into the sink. Foamy, soapy water splashes against my face as they dump them in carelessly. The whole basin is full, and someone shoves a pair of gloves into my hands. In the blurry view of my tear-filled eyes, I see numerous housekeepers in the space—like a hive of bees, they are all whispering about me.Louder footsteps storm into the vast kitchen and a strong hand yanks me around to face Madam Louise, the insane head of housekeeping.“You see,” she says. “I told you—you’re a wench, and a wench belongs in the kitchen.”I quickly wipe my cheeks.“All of you, pay attention!”Louise yells and the whispering stops.“I know many of you have been spreading rumors—saying Sir finally married a woman. But let this be a lesson to you all. She is not Mrs. Mendoza. She is collateral. And now, she is part of the housekeeping staff. She will wash dishes as the rest of you do. She will scrub floors until they shine. If only you had been a

Catalina Maria.As soon as he leaves, I look around the room. From left to right, the bed is as wide as an ocean, enough for at least six people. When Salvador was on me, it felt like the weight of a thousand men, but it was not suffocating. It was scary…until he kissed me. Not until I felt that though he is a man of cold exteriors, his lips were nothing but soft. His tongue was hot and it felt like pillows in my mouth.This isn’t the first time I’ve been kissed. So, why did I go numb? Or should I be asking, why did Salvador kiss me? To teach me a lesson? For someone so rough and wicked, he kissed me like a husband would kiss his wife.And that is the problem.He is not my husband. I am not his wife. He has made it clear that I am his collateral. Therefore, he is not supposed to kiss me like that.I touch my lips because I can still feel him. How do I explain it? He tastes of rain, of mint, of siege, all at once. Even now, my lips are still trembling. And worse, when he threatened to