Her Estranged Mafia Husband Returns

Zina's POV 

Tonight, I was finally losing my virginity—and to my husband, no less. The feeling of having my vagina popped at last.

I stared at Tyson as he carried me across the room, his arms strong and steady. "You know," I teased, "you're supposed to carry me over the threshold, not to the bedroom."

He laughed, his grin as wide as the sky. “Who says I can’t do both? Besides,” he leaned down to kiss me lightly, “I could carry you forever if I had to.”

I giggled, feeling a warmth I hadn’t known in years. “In that case, you better make me comfortable.”

His deep chuckle filled the room as he kicked open the door. My breath hitched at the sight inside. The room looked like a dream—candles softly flickering, rose petals scattered across the bed in a pattern that screamed romance.

Tyson laid me down gently, his dark eyes locking with mine. I felt a blush creep up my face as I whispered, “You know I’m a virgin, right?”

His expression softened, and he brushed a strand of hair from my face. “Don’t worry, Zina,” he murmured, “I’ll make it special. Who knows, we might even make a baby tonight.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, though the thought sent my heart racing. He leaned down, kissing me slowly, passionately, until I forgot where I was. All I could feel was him.

For the first time in my life, I was genuinely happy. Tyson was my escape, my safe haven. I didn’t have to think about my family—the Blackwoods—or the weight of their name. To him, I was just Zina, the girl he loved.

His hands were gentle as he undressed me, and I felt a sense of peace I hadn’t known existed. We were lost in the moment when—

Boom.

The door flew open, slamming against the wall with a deafening crack.

“What the hell?!” Tyson shouted, grabbing his pants and stepping in front of me. His protective stance both warmed my heart and sent a wave of fear crashing through me.

The intruders stepped in, their faces calm but deadly. My blood ran cold as I recognized them.

My uncle Luther. My cousin Ethan, wearing his usual sarcastic smirk. And two of the family enforcers, their presence like shadows of death.

“Who are you?!” Tyson demanded, his voice firm despite the tension in the room.

Luther’s sharp eyes landed on me. “Get dressed, Zina.”

Tyson turned to me, confused. “Zina... do you know them?”

I opened my mouth to respond, but before I could, Luther’s cold voice cut through. “Uncle, huh? That’s right, boy. I’m her uncle.”

Tyson’s eyes darted back to me, a mix of shock and betrayal crossing his face. “Uncle? What’s going on, Zina?”

Ethan stepped forward, his grin widening. “Oh, Tyson, you’re in way over your head. Didn’t she tell you? She’s the daughter of the Blackwoods. You know, the Blackwoods?”

Tyson’s face fell, and he turned to me for answers. “Zina... what is he talking about?”

I swallowed hard, feeling the weight of my secrets crashing down on me. “Tyson... I was going to tell you. I swear. I just... I didn’t know how.”

The betrayal in his eyes hurt more than I could admit. But before I could explain, Luther gestured to the enforcers. “Enough of this. Get her dressed. We’re leaving.”

“No!” Tyson snapped, stepping in front of me again. “She’s my wife. You’re not taking her anywhere.”

The enforcers didn’t hesitate. One of them moved swiftly, slamming Tyson against the wall. He grunted but didn’t back down.

Ethan chuckled. “You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that.”

“Get your hands off him!” I yelled, but my voice barely registered over the chaos.

Tyson pushed back, landing a solid punch on one of the enforcers. The man stumbled, but his partner retaliated, hitting Tyson hard enough to make him stumble.

“Stop it!” I screamed, but it was useless.

Tyson kept fighting, his determination unwavering, even as blood trickled down his lip. “You’re not taking her!” he shouted, his voice hoarse.

Luther, visibly annoyed, pulled out a gun. The click of the safety being removed silenced the room.

“Enough,” Luther said, aiming the gun at Tyson’s head.

“Stop!” I cried, rushing to put myself between them. “Uncle, please! Don’t hurt him!”

Luther’s cold eyes bored into mine. “Move, Zina.”

“No,” I said firmly. “You want me, right? Then leave him out of this. He’s not part of our world.”

Luther stared at me for a long moment before lowering the gun. “Fine,” he said. “But if he so much as breathes wrong, he’s dead. Now, get dressed.”

I stood frozen, my heart pounding. “Why are you doing this?” I demanded. “I’m married, Uncle. You can’t just—”

“I don’t care,” Luther interrupted, pulling a folder from inside his coat. He tossed it onto the bed. “Sign these.”

I picked it up, my hands trembling. Divorce papers.

“What? No!” I snapped. “I won’t sign these.”

Luther’s gaze turned icy. “You don’t have a choice, Zina. You either leave here as a divorcee... or as a widow.”