When a mafia princess is forced to marry the son of her family's greatest rival, hate turns into obsession, betrayal bleeds into desire, and war becomes the price of love.
Lihat lebih banyakThe Castellano safe house reeked of damp concrete and stale cigarette smoke, a squat brick building tucked in the city’s industrial underbelly. Inside, the air was thick with tension, the kind that made your skin crawl and your trigger finger itch. Kai Castellano stood in the center of the dimly lit basement, his black leather gloves flexing as he stared down at the Moretti soldier tied to a chair. The man’s face was a mess—bloodied lip, swollen eye, sweat beading on his brow—but his defiance hadn’t cracked. Yet. “Who hit the docks?” Kai asked, his voice low, a blade sliding through silk. His icy blue eyes bored into the soldier, unblinking, his six-foot frame looming like a storm cloud. The dock attack—gunfire, bodies, a black rose sprayed on a container—had been a slap to the Castellano name, and Kai didn’t tolerate insults. The soldier, a wiry man named Enzo, spat blood onto the floor. “Go to hell, Castellano. ”Kai’s lips twitched, not quite a smile. He stepped closer, crouch
The ballroom glittered like a blade under moonlight, all crystal chandeliers and polished marble, a facade of elegance masking the predators within. The city’s elite mingled with its underworld, their smiles as sharp as the knives hidden beneath tailored suits and sequined gowns. Kai Castellano stood at the edge of the crowd, a glass of champagne untouched in his hand, his black tuxedo cut to lethal perfection. His icy blue eyes scanned the room, missing nothing—not the nervous glances of rival bosses, not the whispers of politicians, and certainly not his wife. Gianna Moretti glided through the gala like she owned it, her crimson gown clinging to her curves, the slit high enough to draw eyes and low enough to promise danger. Her dark hair was swept up, exposing the elegant line of her neck, and those emerald eyes sparkled with calculated charm as she laughed with a group of arms dealers. She was a vision, a siren, a weapon—and Kai hated how effortlessly she commanded the room. Thei
The penthouse was a fortress of glass and steel, perched high above the city’s pulsing veins. Moonlight sliced through floor-to-ceiling windows, casting sharp shadows across the sleek hardwood floor. The air was heavy with the scent of leather, whiskey, and something sharper—tension so thick it could choke a man. Kai Castellano stood by the bar, his silhouette a study in control: broad shoulders squared, black dress shirt unbuttoned at the collar, tie discarded like a noose he’d escaped. His icy blue eyes tracked the room, but they kept landing on her. Gianna Moretti sprawled on the plush velvet couch, one leg draped over the armrest, her white wedding gown replaced by a black silk slip that clung to her like a whispered threat. Her dark hair spilled over her shoulders, and those emerald eyes—God, those eyes—glinted with defiance as she toyed with a crystal paperweight from Kai’s desk. She rolled it between her fingers, deliberate, like she was testing how much she could take before
It was ten minutes past the hour.The chapel was silent — not with peace, but with pressure.The kind that coils around your spine, stiffens every breath, and makes men in thousand-dollar suits reach for the triggers they promised to leave at home.Kai Castellano stood at the altar, jaw clenched so tight it could shatter bone.She wasn’t coming.Of course she wasn’t. Gianna Moretti was chaos in a dress. Venom with lipstick. And she was about to humiliate him in front of everyone, rivals, allies, government officials, even his father who, for the first time in years, had decided to make a public appearance.Lorenzo Castellano sat in the front row, unreadable. A black three-piece suit. Silver cufflinks. His hand rested on the head of the cane he never actually used , just a prop, a symbol of power.“Relax,” Marsh murmured beside Kai. “You’re scaring the priest.”“I am relaxed,” Kai bit out.“She’s gonna show. Even if it’s just to stab you at the altar.”He didn’t respond. Couldn’t. His
The room was silent, but the tension screamed.Gianna sat across from Alessio, arms folded tightly, the air between them heavy with everything unsaid. Her father leaned back in his chair, looking far too calm for someone who had just thrown her entire life into a furnace.“I’m sorry, what?” she asked, voice cold enough to freeze the air.“You heard me, Gianna. The war ends with a wedding,” Alessio said, swirling his drink lazily. “Yours.”“To Kai Castellano?” she spat the name like poison. “You want me to marry the man who’d rather shoot me than shake my hand?”“No,” he replied smoothly. “I want you to destroy him.”Her heart stuttered.Alessio leaned forward now, voice low and deliberate. “You’ll become one of them. The doting mafia bride, the trusted wife. You’ll smile at his men, eat at his table, sleep in his house. And when they stop looking over their shoulders, when they start calling you family…”“You want me to gut them from the inside,” she finished, numb.He smiled. “Exactl
It started with a shipment.One of the Castellano Syndicate’s private docks lit up at midnight. Not with the usual quiet arrivals, but with gunfire and smoke. Kai arrived within ten minutes, dressed in black, hair wind-slicked, fury in every step.Bodies lay sprawled across the dock. Three of his men were injured. One was dead.“Moretti,” Kai muttered, jaw tight.Rosa Vivaldi met him at the scene. “They didn’t even try to hide it,” she said, motioning to a black rose spray-painted on a container. “It’s a message.”“No,” Kai replied coldly. “It’s a mistake.”As he examined the scene, a familiar car pulled up. Sleek, black, unnecessarily expensive. The back door opened and out stepped Gianna Moretti, coat flowing behind her like a cape. No guards, no fear, just deliberate steps and that same infuriating calm.Kai’s eyes narrowed. “You came in person? How generous.”Gianna smiled, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “I like to see the consequences of my decisions.”“You’re admitting this wa
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