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CHAPTER TWELVE: BACKLASH
publish date:
2026-07-03 00:09:11
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Forced bride of mafia king Chapter twenty two: trust
Lena’s POV I’m in Dante’s study. My hands shake as I tip the liquid into his coffee. The dark swirl disappears into the mug. “Lena.” I spin around. My mother is in the doorway. “Mom, I can’t,” I whisper. “I can’t do this to him.” Her voice cuts through the room, sharp and too loud. “You have to. Think about your brother. Think about me.” She crosses the room in two strides. “This is how you set yourself free. Do it. For me.” “Lena, what are you doing?” Dante. He’s here now, standing in the other doorway. His face is blank, unreadable. Stoic. My mother grabs the mug before I can move. She holds it out to him. Drink.” “Mom, no—stop!” I lunge and slap it out of her hand. Ceramic shatters. Coffee splashes across the rug. She turns on me, eyes blazing. “You have to choose, Lena. Your family, or him.” I look at Dante. He doesn’t flinch. “Choose,” he says. Just that one word. My eyes dart between them. Mom. Dante. Mom. Dante. “Choose. Choose. Choose.” Their v
Forced bride of mafia king Chapter twenty one: the mothers plot
Lena’s POV I rush into the bathroom before the tears can slip out. Dante’s voice follows me down the hall, calling my name, but I ignore him and shove the door shut behind me. I didn’t think I’d get this emotional talking about the wedding. I never pictured myself getting married without my dad there. One question about venues and suddenly all I can think about is him not walking me down the aisle. The door opens. Dante steps inside. He comes to my side, and before he can ask, I swipe at my eyes. “I’m okay,” I tell him. My voice shakes. “I just got… a bit emotional.” “Well, I can see that,” he says. His hands come up to cradle my face, thumb brushing my cheek. “But why?” The question sounds like he actually cares. As if he could. He wouldn’t understand the pain of losing someone you love, because he doesn’t love anyone. “Just leave me alone,” I snap, my voice rising before I can stop it. His face stays stoic. Unreadable. And then something in me breaks. A sob
Forced bride of mafia king CHAPTER TWENTY: THE GALA
Dante’s pov The drive back from my uncle’s house on the other side of the estate drags. I sit in the back with Ricardo, jaw tight. Someone tried to kill Lena. They’re still breathing. That’s a problem I intend to fix. “Double the men on the search,” I tell him. “I want names by morning. Someone touched what’s mine and is still breathing that’s a slap to my face.” “I’m doing my best, boss,” Ricardo says. “Then do better.” The car stops. I’m out before he can answer. Maria’s waiting inside. “How was she today?” She wrings her hands. “Not good. Her mother came. They argued. She hasn’t left the room since.” Something sharp twists in my chest. “Did she eat?” “Not after the argument.” I nod and head upstairs. Lena’s curled up on our bed, drowning in the blanket. She looks small. So breakable. “How are you?” I keep my voice low, sitting on the edge of the mattress. She startles, then softens when she sees me. “You’re back. How did your meeting go?” Meeti
Forced bride of mafia king CHAPTER NINETEEN: THE AFTERMATH
Lena’s POV It’s been three days since the kidnapping. Three days, and Dante and his men still don’t know who took me or why. So I sit here at the estate, under Dante’s watchful gaze, waiting. My mother came to visit right after it happened. She checked on me, fussed over me. Now she shows up every day. It pisses Dante off. He doesn’t like her, though he won’t say why. Tonight I’m alone in bed. Dante’s on the other side of the estate dealing with some problem he won’t explain. I’m just... waiting. But I can’t sit around anymore. My best friend is dead. I won’t rest until I get justice for her. A knock at the door pulls me out of my head. I sit up, expecting Dante. It’s Maria. “Ma, your mother is here,” she says. I groan. I love my mother. But right now, I just want to be alone. “Tell her I’ll be down,” I say. Maria nods and leaves. I get up, fix my hair, and straighten my shirt. Downstairs, I find her on the couch. She stands and h
Forced bride of mafia king CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: GRIEF
Lena’s POV I cling to Dante, sobbing so hard I can barely breathe. He strokes my hair, one hand cradling the back of my head while I curl into his lap in the backseat. The heat from him is the only thing keeping the cold from swallowing me whole. My throat is raw. Words feel like glass. But I force them out anyway. “Dante.” His head turns from the window instantly. All of his focus snaps to me. “Is Trisha okay?” My voice cracks. He frowns, like he’s searching his memory. Like he doesn’t know who I’m talking about. “My friend,” I push, panic rising. “She was shot. At the store. Is she— is she okay?” Dante’s jaw tightens. He doesn’t answer right away. When he does, his voice is too careful. Too measured. “I don’t know yet,” Dante says. “But you don’t need to worry about that right now. Just focus on yourself. Breathe for me, okay?” He’s dismissing it. But I can’t breathe. Because I saw her eyes. I saw them go still. I
Forced bride of mafia king CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: THE RESCUE
Dante’s POV The meeting is dragging. My uncle’s been talking for twenty minutes straight about the Colombians, detailing every shipment, every margin, every goddamn decimal like I don’t already have the numbers memorized. I want to be home. With Lena. In my bed. Where I can remind her exactly who she belongs to. But I can’t have this conversation there. Not with her in the next room. There are things she doesn’t need to hear. “Dante.” My uncle’s voice cuts through my thoughts. He’s noticed I checked out. I lift an eyebrow. What? “You’re hardly paying attention,” he says, annoyed. I sit up straighter, let the shift in posture do the talking. The room goes quiet. Every man at this table knows what happens when I stop looking bored. “Last I checked,” I say, voice low, “I run this family.” It’s not a threat. I don’t need to make threats. They hear the promise anyway. I scan the table. “I’ll speak to the Colombians when I’m good and ready. Not
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