Emily never thought her crown would come with a gun to her head. Forced into a marriage with Jason, the ruthless heir of the mafia empire, she is torn between the innocence of her royal upbringing and the violent world he drags her into. But the deeper she’s pulled into Jason’s life, the harder it becomes to tell whether he is her captor… or her protector. When her cousin Adriana begins whispering warnings about Jason, Emily struggles to listen until betrayal slices through her world. Adriana, the cousin she trusts most, becomes Jason’s secret lover. And while Jason’s loyalty is tested between blood, power, and love, danger brews in the shadows of their enemies. In a world where alliances shift like loaded dice and passion burns as hot as bullets, Emily must decide: will she fight for her freedom, or surrender to the man who was never supposed to have her heart?
View MoreEmily should have hated him.Jason embodied everything her father had warned her against: dangerous, cold, unrepentant. He moved like a predator, his very presence filling a room with unease, and yet when his eyes found hers, something beneath that darkness beckoned.The days following their wedding blurred into a rhythm she hadn’t expected. Mornings in thesprawling mafia estate were silent; Jason would already be gone by the time she woke, leaving her to wander through cold marble halls with Plu and Rain at her side. Evenings, however, brought him back—sometimes bloodied from whatever business he refused to speak of, sometimes polished in a tailored suit, smelling faintly of gunpowder and whiskey.And each night, he looked at her like she was both his responsibility and his temptation. Emily told herself she should despise that gaze. Instead, she found herself waiting for it.The tension grew one evening after a long, suffocating dinner with his allies. Ryan, charmingand bold, tea
The palace had never felt so suffocating. The golden halls, polished marble floors, and endless stream of attendants should have made Emily feel like the radiant princess she was meant to be. Instead, each glittering chandelier above her seemed to tighten the invisible rope around her neck. Today wasn’t just a wedding—it was a sentencing.Her maids fastened the last clasp of her gown, a shimmering creation of white silk embroidered with silver threads, her veil flowing like a river of frost behind her. Emily stared at her reflection in the mirror. The gown was breathtaking, but she couldn’t find herself in it. Her eyes—soft hazel, now shadowed with unease—were the only reminder of who she really was. “Princess, ” one of the maids whispered, bowing low.“Your father awaits.”Her throat felt dry. My father awaits… but is it me he sees, or the alliance I represent? When she entered the grand hall, her father, King Alaric, stood tall in his ceremonial robes. His stern gaze softened brief
The palace dining room gleamed with gold, but Emily felt the weight of something far heavierthan elegance that night. Her father had summoned her without explanation, and theseriousness in his eyes told her it was no ordinary dinner. Her mother sat silently at the table, her fingers clasped tightly in her lap as if she were holding back words.The heavy doors creaked open again, and a presence filled the room. A man entered with aconfidence that needed no announcement. He was broad-shouldered, sharp-eyed, his tailored suit unable to soften the aura of danger that clung to him. Emily recognized him at once—Antonio DeLuca. She had seen his name whispered in headlines, tied to businesses that were rumored to be more shadow than substance. He was her father’s oldest ally, and yet she had never seen him in person until now.Beside him walked someone else. A man younger, taller, but no less commanding. His blackshirt hugged his frame, his stride deliberate, and his eyes—piercing, unread
The city never slept where Jason lived. Its heartbeat was the sound of engines revving, gunshots echoing in the distance, and men whispering about debts that could only be repaid in blood. Skyscrapers glittered above, but down in the alleys, shadows ruled. To most, the streets were dangerous. To Jason, they were home.Jason DeLuca was the eldest son of Antonio DeLuca—the man who controlled half underground empire with an iron fist and a cold stare. While Emily grew up beneath chandeliers and stained-glass windows, Jason’s life was shaped in smoke-filled rooms where power and betrayal were traded like currency.His childhood was not built on innocence. At ten years old, his father had placed a gun in hishands for the first time. At twelve, he had been dragged to a warehouse where a traitor wasexecuted. At sixteen, Jason had pulled the trigger himself. Not because he wanted to, butbecause hesitation was punished.Antonio raised him with rules, not affection. “You are not just my son,
The palace smelled of roses and power. Emily had grown up beneath golden ceilings andmarbled corridors, the daughter of a king who measured every movement of her life againstthe weight of a crown. To the world, she was the perfect princess—poised, soft-spoken,draped in silk gowns that shimmered when she walked. But beneath the layers of elegance,she often wondered whether she was living a life of her own or one borrowed from centuriesof tradition.Her father, King Edward, believed that duty came before desire. To him, a crown was notsimply a jewel—it was a burden one carried until their last breath. And Emily, his onlydaughter, was expected to uphold that burden with a smile. Her mother, Queen Isabella, wasgentler, though her softness was the type born from years of silence rather than freedom.Emily could see it in her mother’s eyes: the quiet longing for a life not written for her, alonging Emily had secretly inherited.Mornings in the palace were routine. A maid would arri
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