Married The Wrong Groom: Claimed By The Ruthless Don

“Thud!”

“Thud!”

“This!”

The rhythmic sound of leather hitting canvas was the only tone Raina Valente craved. 

The boxing gym was a dump but to her, it was a sanctuary and the only place where the name 'Valente' didn’t restrict or meddle in her life. She leaned into a sharp jab and the heavy bag groaned under the force of her strike, her knuckles burning beneath the wraps.

"Raina, for the love of God, take a break!" Bryan called out. He was a middle-aged man, who had volunteered to be her coach and his eyes were always full of fatherly concern she never received from her own flesh and blood. "You’ve been at this since dawn. You’re going to tire yourself out before the championship match, and you can't win the belt if you can't lift your arms."

Raina didn't stop, the mention of the championship made her punch even harder. 

“Thud!”

“Thud!”

“Crack!”

She saw the Golden belt in her mind.. it is her ticket out. One win, one professional contract, and she could disappear from the underworld forever and take her mother with her.

"I’m not tired, Bryan," she replied, her breath coming in short pants. "I’m getting ready…This is the only way out, and I’m not losing it."

“BANG!” 

Bryan opened his mouth to argue, but the words died in his throat as the gym’s front door was kicked open with such violence that the rusted hinges screamed and gave way. The heavy wood slammed onto the concrete floor, sending a cloud of dust into the air.

Raina spun around, her fists still raised, and her heart hammering frantically against her ribs.

Three men in sharp black suits stepped over the ruined door. They moved with the grace of soldiers and their stern gazes were fixed on Raina. The gym went dead silent and Bryan took a trembling step back, his face turning a sickly shade of grey as he realized who they were.

Raina didn't tremble, instead, she felt a familiar surge of rage boiling in her gut. She lowered her hands slowly, but her eyes were fixed on the men like sharp daggers.

"Get out," she said, her voice dropping to a dangerous, low pitch.

The lead guard, a man named Marco who had served her father for a decade, didn't flinch, he just took a step forward. "Don Michael wants to see you, Raina."

Raina threw him a sharp, hatred filled glare, that caused the three seasoned killers to actually take a few steps back and the air in the room instantly became stuffy.

She felt extremely upset but she didn't want to start a fight, and her father has made sure of it by sending three of his best men. She grabbed her gym bag, slinging it over her shoulder, and turned to the terrified Bryan.

"I'm going home, Bryan. Lock up what's left of the door," she said, her voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through her veins.

She marched toward the exit, her shoulder brushing hard against Marco’s chest as she pushed past him. She didn't wait for them and on getting outside, she stopped beside a black SUV that was parked at the entrance. Marco hurried forward to open the door, but she ignored him, pulling it open herself and slid into the backseat.

Marco quickly got in the driver's seat while the two other men sat in the back, each on both sides leaving Raina in the middle.

As the car sped through the city, Raina stared out the window. Her mind was a whirlwind of possible reasons why her father had sent for her. He hadn't called for her in months, as he hated her boxing, her independence, and the fact that she reminded him of her mother… So something was definitely wrong.

The gates of the Valente Mansion opened slowly and the car entered the highly secured premises. Raina stepped out of the car before it had even fully stopped and stormed into the house, as she knew exactly where her father would be.

She threw open the double doors of the sitting room and just like she thought, there sat Don Michael Valente, sipping a glass of bourbon with an extremely calm expression. Standing by the fireplace was her brother, Lorenzo. The moment Raina saw Lorenzo’s face and the twisted gleam of excitement in his eyes, she felt a cold pit form in her stomach.

"Ah, the prodigal daughter returns," Lorenzo mocked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You smell like a locker room, Raina.. It's disgusting."

Raina ignored him, fixing her gaze on her father. "Why am I here, Michael? I have a fight to prepare for…Make it quick."

Michael didn't look up at first. He slowly swirled the ice in his glass, the clinking sound echoing in the tense silence. "You’re getting married in forty-eight hours," he said, his voice as flat and emotionless as if he was talking about an unimportant thing.

Raina froze, then, a sharp, incredulous laugh escaped her lips. "Married? Is that the punchline? Since when did you decide to become a comedian, Michael? It’s almost funny."

"It’s not a joke, you brat," Lorenzo snapped, stepping forward. His face was flushed with a greedy light as he stared at her. "The war with the Retroferd family has gone on long enough. We’re losing money, territory, and men. A marriage alliance is the only way to seal the peace, so you’re marrying Evan Retroferd."

The name felt like a slap on Raina’s face. Evan Retroferd, the spoiled and spineless nephew of the Retroferd Don. A man known for nothing but his scandals and cowardice.

"The Retroferds?!" Raina yelled, her voice shaking with fury. "The people who tried to put a bullet in your head last year? The people who have spent twenty years trying to wipe us out? You’re selling me to them like a piece of meat?"

"It’s a business transaction, Raina," Michael said coldly, finally looking at her. His eyes were completely devoid of any fatherly affection. "The Retroferds have the shipping routes we need. You are a Valente and it is time you finally became useful."

"Useful?" Raina stepped toward him, her hands curling into fists. "I am a person! Not a goddamn peace offering for your failing business! I refuse..I’m not doing it."

Lorenzo let out an ugly laugh. "Stop being so selfish, Raina! You spend your days running around in those pathetic underground boxing rings, bringing shame to this family name. For once, think about the family instead of your own delusional dreams."

Raina turned her gaze to her brother, her eyes burning with undisguised rage. "Selfish? I’ve lived in the shadow of this family my whole life, taking the scraps you threw me. If you’re so desperate for this alliance, Lorenzo, why don't you marry him? I know you’re into men anyway…it’s a perfect match."

The room went deathly silent and Lorenzo’s face turned a violent shade of crimson. He lunged forward, his hand whistling through the air as he tried to strike her across the face.

But Raina was faster, she had spent her life learning how to avoid hits from men much bigger than him. She swiftly dodged the slap with ease and before Lorenzo could even register that he’d missed, Raina drove a brutal, professional grade hook into his jaw.

“Crack!”

The sound of bone cracking was loud and Lorenzo was sent staggering back, his feet tangling as he collapsed onto the sofa. Blood immediately began to spray from his mouth, staining the white leather and his expensive silk shirt.

"Touch me again," Raina hissed, her voice vibrating with raw anger, "and I’ll make sure you never walk again."

Michael didn't even flinch as he watched his son bleed with a chilling indifference and he clearly didn't care about their fight. He raised a single hand, signaling the three guards who were hovering by the door.

"That’s enough," Michael said, his voice cutting through the air like a knife. “Take her to her room."

The men moved in and Raina’s adrenaline spiked. She wasn't going down without a fight, so as the first guard reached for her, she landed a sharp kick to his knee, hearing the joint pop. But they were elite, and there were three of them. The second man tackled her from behind, pinning her arms, while the third grabbed her legs.

"Let me go!" Raina screamed, struggling with every ounce of strength she possessed. She kicked and thrashed like a wild animal. "You coward! Michael! Look at me!"

"Strip her of all gadgets," Michael commanded, standing up and smoothing his suit jacket. "Take her phone, her bag, every piece of boxing gear. I want her isolated. If she escapes…You are all dead"

One of the guards ripped her gym bag from her shoulder, while another reached into her pocket and snatched her phone. Raina felt a wave of pure, unadulterated desperation. Everything…her career, her escape, and her mother’s hope, was being stripped away in seconds.

"I hate you!" she shrieked as they began to drag her toward the stairs. Her shoes scraped against the marble floor as she fought them. "Do you hear me, Michael Valente? I fucking hate you! I will never say 'I do'! I’ll kill him! I’ll kill you all in your sleep!"

Lorenzo stood up, wiping a thick trail of blood from his chin, his eyes filled with a sadistic joy. "Save your breath, sister. You’re going to need it for the wedding night. Evan isn't known for being gentle with his toys."

"You piece of shit!" Raina yelled, her voice cracking with the force of her rage.

The guards didn't stop. They hauled her up the grand staircase, her screams echoing through the halls of the mansion. 

They reached her bedroom and threw her inside with such force that she tumbled across the carpet. She scrambled to her feet, lunging back toward the door, but she was a second too late.

THUD!

The heavy mahogany door slammed shut, the sound echoing in the silent room like a final judgment. Raina threw her entire body weight against the wood, pounding her fists until they bled. "Open this door! Michael! Lorenzo! I’ll kill you!"

The only response was the sharp, metallic click of the door being locked from outside.

Raina fell to her knees, her breath hitching as the silence of the room closed in on her. She looked at her trembling, bruised hands and realized she was finally in a ring she couldn't punch her way out of.

“How do I get out of here?!!” She screamed in frustration while pulling at her hair.