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CHAPTER NINE: THE TEST

Auteur: Bara
last update Date de publication: 2026-07-02 00:01:35

Lena’s POV

I stood at the center of the ballroom, surrounded by flowers and too many lights. Dante hadn’t left my side all day, and neither had the fake smile plastered on my face.

We greeted guest after guest. Most of them were mafia bosses. Dangerous men in expensive suits, all congratulating us like I wasn’t counting down the minutes until this was over.

The noise, the handshakes, the constant eyes on me—it was suffocating.

After a while, Dante pulled me aside and we slid
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  • Forced bride of mafia king   CHAPTER SEVENTY THREE: THE ARGUMENT

    Lena’s POV I put on my jasmine perfume, and it fills the entire room. I’m standing in front of the mirror in a black silk dress. It falls to my knees and hugs me in all the places and I love it. The door suddenly opens behind me and I don’t have to look to know it’s him. His presence always changes the air. Dante’s strong arms come around my waist and he presses himself to my back and buries his face in my neck. “Jesus,” he mutters against my skin. “You’re going to kill me tonight.” I lean back into him. “Is that a complaint?” I ask, tilting my head so he can see me in the mirror. “Don’t flirt with me when we have to leave in twenty minutes.” “Who’s flirting?” I smile. “I’m just getting ready.” His hands slide up, resting just under my breast. “You look beautiful,” he says. “Thank you.” I turn in his arms to face him. And God he looks handsome. He’s tailored suit fits him so perfectly. The top buttons of his shirt are undone and I reach up and smoot

  • Forced bride of mafia king   CHAPTER SEVENTY TWO: WEB OF LIES

    Lena’s POV I sit on the couch as Maria spreads fabric swatches across the coffee table and lines up three different vases like soldiers. “So the white roses for the center,” Maria says, tapping one vase. “And then maybe the peonies for the corners? I think Dante will like that.” I snort. “Dante doesn’t know the difference between a peony and a weed.” “Exactly,” Maria grins. “Which is why you should get the expensive ones. He’ll never know.” I’m about to answer when the front door opens. Maria and I both look up. Dante walks in and behind him is a boy. Thirteen, maybe fourteen. He has a duffel bag in his hand. My breath stops when I get a good look at his face. God. He’s the spitting image of Dante. A younger, smaller version of Dante. Same jaw, same eyes. How is that possible? My brain stutters. He looks exactly like him. “Morning,” Dante says. “Morning,” I say slowly. My eyes flick back to the boy.

  • Forced bride of mafia king   CHAPTER SEVENTY ONE: THE LIE

    Dante’s POV My phone lights up again on the desk. And the name flashing on the screen ruins my mood. *Camila: 24 hours are up. decide now I’m not waiting anymore.* I don’t answer. I just stare at the text for ten minutes, like if I look long enough the words will change. It’s either I leave Lena, or I take in Diego. But I can’t bear the pain Lena is going to feel when she finds out I have a son with another woman. I drag a hand down my face and my chest suddenly feels tight, like someone’s squeezing it. If Lena finds out… God. She’ll look at me like I’m a stranger. She’ll be so hurt. Which makes it so much worse. Because she’s been asking about a baby. She wants our kid. How do I tell her I already made one with someone else? I lean back in the chair and close my eyes. My heart is racing and I can’t get it to slow down. The door opens behind me and I hear soft footsteps. I don’t have to turn to know who it is.

  • Forced bride of mafia king   CHAPTER SEVENTY: AWAITING STORM

    Lena’s POV The car smells like expensive cologne and male ego. I’m in the backseat, between Marco and the window. “Port inspection,” Marco says again, like if he says it enough times I’ll change my mind. “Lena, you don’t have to do this. Let someone who can actually handle these things take over.” “I am someone,” I say, not looking at him. “And Dad made me Don. If he thought I couldn’t handle it, he wouldn’t have.” “And he would also want you alive.” I finally look at him. “I can handle it, Marco. I’m not a child.” “You’re my sister.” “And I’m also Don,” I say. “Which means I don’t get to hide. My phone buzzes. I check and it’s an unknown number. I open it. It’s a photo of our car, taken from above. And attached to it is a text: We are always watching. My blood instantly goes cold. I maintain a calm expression even though I’m internally freaking out. “Who’s it from?” Marco asks startling me out of my thoughts. “Spam,” I lie. “You were saying,” I s

  • Forced bride of mafia king   CHAPTER SIXTY NINE: FIXING PAST MISTAKES

    Lena’s pov I stand in front of the stove, in nothing but shorts and a tank top. The eggs are hissing and I’m pretty sure that’s not supposed to happen. Maria leans against the counter, crossing her arms. She watches me plate the eggs like it’s the scariest thing ever. “Signora,” she says. “If you serve him that, he might die of food poisoning.” I laugh. “They’re fine. See? Golden brown.” “They’re black, Lena.” “Charcoal is a flavor.” Maria shakes her head. “Mio Dio. The great Don of the Virelli family, and you can’t make a decent omelet.” “Hey,” I point the spatula at her. “I’m trying. It’s the thought that counts.” “The thought won’t save him from salmonella.” We both burst out laughing. The kitchen feels so normal. Everything feels so peaceful. I set the tray down plating it with toast, eggs, and coffee. Maria bumps my shoulder. “Going to serve him yourself?” “Thought I would.” I shrug. “Be nice for once.” She smirks. “You know what they sa

  • Forced bride of mafia king   CHAPTER SIXTY EIGHT: DIGGING UP THE PAST

    Lena’s POV I stand between them, looking back and forth. I get that he knows everyone, seeing as this is his world. But the look they’re giving each other screams there’s a story there. So I slowly pull out of Dante’s embrace and turn to Camila. "So you two know each other?" I ask out loud. Dante doesn't answer. He just presses his fingers on my waist, anchoring me to him. Camila answers first. Of course she does. "Oh, Dante and I are old friends," she says, drawing the word out ‘old friends’. "From way back.” I force a smile out. I’m not dumb even in the slightest. I can tell from the way she’s looking at him that something went down between them. Something more than ‘old friends’. But Dante isn’t denying it. He’s just staring at her like he wants to put a bullet in her. I guess I’ll just have to trust him until I know what I’m dealing with. “Right,” I say. “Old friends.” Dante’s gaze flicks to me for half a second. Then he just snaps. "Stay away from my

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