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CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND TWENTY: PHASE TWO

ผู้เขียน: Bara
last update วันที่เผยแพร่: 2026-11-10 00:11:01

CARA'S POV

The door clicks shut and I drop the smile.

God. My face actually aches from holding it. That girl has no idea how much work it is to take care of her.

Why does she always have to be so difficult?

She just sat there acting like I’m a stranger.

I continued moving down the hall with the stupid tray in my hand.

I don’t know why, but I can’t shake this feeling that something is wrong with Lena. There was fear in her eyes, and that fear was directed at me.

I know I’m not mistaken, and
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  • Forced bride of mafia king   CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND TWENTY: PHASE TWO

    CARA'S POVThe door clicks shut and I drop the smile.God. My face actually aches from holding it. That girl has no idea how much work it is to take care of her. Why does she always have to be so difficult? She just sat there acting like I’m a stranger. I continued moving down the hall with the stupid tray in my hand. I don’t know why, but I can’t shake this feeling that something is wrong with Lena. There was fear in her eyes, and that fear was directed at me. I know I’m not mistaken, and I’m sure something is up, but what?I start walking faster. I need to catch a break.Then a hand grabs me and yanks me into the dark.My heart stops instantly. One second I'm in the hallway, the next I'm slammed against a wall in one of the empty guest rooms, door shut, with a hand over my mouth."Don't scream," he says.The moment I hear his voice, I recognise it instantly.I shove him so hard my nails catch his shirt. "Are you out of your mind? You scared me! Don't you ever grab me like that

  • Forced bride of mafia king   CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND NINETEEN: I REMEMBER

    Before I get to the story. I sincerely want to apologize for the delay in publishing chapters. I’ve been facing serious health challenges but I’m fine now and promise to continue uploading. Thanks for your feedback snd please tell me what you think.Dante's POV*The estate has been turned upside down and there is still no sign of him. Not a footprint. Not a drop of blood that belongs to anyone but my own men. Not a single fucking trace of Kovacs.My men stand in a line in the main hall, with all their heads down, breathing hard from combing twenty acres of woods, the main gate, the service road, the tunnel behind the stables. Only to return empty-handed."You call yourselves my top men?" My voice slowly rises. "I bring you in, I pay you triple what anyone else in this city would pay you, I put my wife and my family in your hands, and a half-dead prisoner walks out of a locked cell in MY HOUSE"No one answers. "Fesso! That's what he thinks you are. That's what I think you are right

  • Forced bride of mafia king   CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND EIGHTEEN: THE ESCAPE

    Lena’s POVI’m dreaming of nothin, when the hand closes around my throat.It happens so fast that for one second I think I’m still asleep, that this is just some nightmare my broken brain is conjuring out of everything I’ve heard today. Then the pressure bears down, cutting off my air completely, and every nerve in my body screams that this is real.My eyes fly open. A shadow looms over me in the dark, a ski mask blotting out any features, just the glint of eyes catching what little moonlight slips through the curtains. I claw upward instantly, fingers scrabbling for the mask, for anything, but he’s got leverage on me, his weight pinning me down, and my broken, healing body has nothing left to fight him with.No. No, no, no…..I try to scream and nothing comes out, just a strangled, airless rasp. I buck against him, shoving at his chest, his arms, anywhere I can reach, but the hand only presses harder, and black spots start blooming at the edges of my vision

  • Forced bride of mafia king   CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND SEVENTEEN:

    Lena’s POVDiego’s arm is careful around my waist as he helps me down the hallway, taking my weight so gently like I might shatter if he grips too hard.“I can walk on my own,” I tell him, already easing myself out of his hold, proving the point.And the second I do, pain rips up through my ribs so sharp I gasp out loud,Diego catches me instantly, his arm tightening back around me before I can fall. “Okay, okay, I’ve got you,” he says quickly, guiding me the rest of the way to the bed and lowering me down onto it with care. “Sorry. Sorry, I shouldn’t have let go.”“It’s not your fault.” I press a hand to my side, breathing through the ache until it dulls back down to something bearable. “I’m the one who thought I could play hero.”He hovers there a second too long, like he’s not sure whether to sit or stand or say something else, before he finally settles on the edge of the mattress, “Are you okay?”I nod, even though okay feels like a generous word for whatever this is. My side thro

  • Forced bride of mafia king   CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTEEN: THE PLOT THICKENS

    Dante’s POVFor one full second, I don’t move. Kovacs’ father.Then I straighten up, rolling my shoulders back and making my face unreadable. Whatever this man came here expecting, he isn’t going to get the satisfaction of seeing me rattled.“Diego.” I raise my voice, “Help take Lena upstairs.”“Dante I…..” Lena starts, her hand finding my sleeve.“Now, please,” I say, not taking my eyes off Volkov. I press my hand briefly over hers, just enough to soften the order, but she flinches. Diego is already moving, sliding an arm carefully around Lena’s waist to help her up, and I hear her murmuring a protest even as he steers her toward the stairs. Good boy. At least he knows when not to argue with me.Only once I hear their footsteps fade up the staircase do I turn my full attention back to the man standing in my dining room like he owns it.“Pakhan Volkov.” I let the name sit in my mouth. “That’s a name I’ve heard. Never thought I’d have the pleasure.”

  • Forced bride of mafia king   CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTEEN: UNEXPECTED GUEST

    Lena's POVThe door clicks shut behind my mother, and the silence that follows presses down on me like a weight.I'm alone with him.Dante hasn't moved from where he stood after Mama left, his broad shoulders still tense, his jaw still tight with whatever anger he's swallowing down. I pull the blanket higher over my lap, suddenly aware of how thin my nightgown is, how exposed I feel under his gaze.*He shot you three times.*My mother's words echo in my head, looping over and over. I study him now, the sharp line of his jaw, the hard set of his mouth, the way his hands, when they're not clenched into fists, look big enough to do exactly what she said they did.Could those hands have pulled a trigger on me?I don't know why, but some small, stubborn part of me resists the thought. It doesn't fit. Nothing about it feels right. But then, what do I know? I don't remember anything. I'm building a person out of fragments and a stranger's instructions.

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