His Mafia princess

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 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 Moretti estate gardens were built to impress. Wide stone paths wound through manicured hedges, and roses climbed along trellises in neat rows, their petals blooming like spilled rubies in the lantern light. But to Emily, the beauty was suffocating. Everything here was too controlled, too perfect as though even nature had been bent into submission by Jason’s will She sat alone on a carved marble bench, her hands resting in her lap, twisting her ring around her finger. The diamond glittered, cold and heavy, a reminder of vows she never truly gave. Plu stood a few feet away, arms crossed, broad shoulders casting a shadow over the roses. Rain leaned against one of the stone pillars at the far end of the path, his posture loose but his eyes sharp, scanning the darkness like he expected death itself to crawl out of the night. Emily was used to their presence now. At first, their watchfulness had felt like chains, but in the days since the wedding, she had begun to sense the truth,

The silence between Emily and Jason stretched for days. She avoided his study, avoided his gaze at dinners, and kept her words clipped when he tried to speak. Adriana’s warning had sharpened her doubts into a blade she couldn’t sheath. And yet, no matter how she tried, her body betrayed her, searching for him when he entered a room, her pulse spiking when his presence filled the air. It was a torment she couldn’t escape. Jason didn’t make it easier. He was everywhere—at the head of the table, in the halls late at night, his storm-grey eyes tracking her like a predator circling prey. Sometimes he lingered too close when he brushed past her, the heat of him suffocating. Other times, he was distant, locked behind walls she could never climb. It was maddening. One night, after another strained dinner, Emily found herself pacing their shared bedroom. She couldn’t sleep. Her chest ached with too many questions, too many wants she refused to name. When the door clicked open, her breat

The city streets felt alive in a way the estate never did. Emily walked past shop windows lined with silks and jewelry, her heels clicking against the polished pavement. Rain followed a step behind, his sharp gaze scanning every corner, his hand never straying far from his jacket. It wasn’t freedom. Not really. But after weeks of marble corridors and whispered warnings, it felt close enough. “Jason will kill me for letting you out this long,” Rain muttered. Emily glanced at him with a smile. “He doesn’t own me.” Rain didn’t return the smile. “Try telling him that.” Her laughter was cut short by the screech of tires. Three black SUVs swung into the street, cutting off traffic. Doors flew open. Men in black poured out, faces masked, weapons gleaming under the sun. “Down!” Rain barked, slamming Emily against the nearest wall just as the first shots rang out. Glass shattered, people screamed and scattered, but the men weren’t aiming for anyone else. They were aiming for her. Em