MasukIn the Chicago mafia, refusing a powerful man is the same as signing your own death warrant. At twenty-one, Valentina is forced into marriage with Adrian DeLuca— the cold, feared underboss whose first wife died under mysterious circumstances. The rules are clear: obey, stay silent, and never ask about the past. Adrian doesn’t want love. He wants a wife who looks perfect at his side and a mother for his children. Nothing more. Their marriage is built on duty, fear, and carefully maintained distance until Valentina begins to see the cracks beneath his ruthless control. The DeLuca mansion is full of secrets. Locked rooms. Unspoken rules. A five-year-old boy who hasn’t spoken since his mother’s death— until he whispers something that changes everything. “I still see my mom at night.” What begins as a marriage of survival turns into a dangerous search for truth. As Valentina uncovers what really happened to the woman who came before her, she realizes the greatest threat may not be the man she married, but the one everyone believes is dead. In a world where loyalty is deadly and love is a weakness, Valentina must decide who to trust before the truth destroys her marriage… or her life. A dark mafia romance about forced marriage, forbidden secrets, and the woman who refused to stay powerless.
Lihat lebih banyakADRIAN’S POV
“My wife is dead.” I stared down at the limp body of my wife in my blood covered hands as I spoke to my father on the phone, saying words that I never thought I would. My father was silent for a while. “What are you saying?” “My wife is dead, father. Serena is dead.” I looked straight ahead at what used to be our home, now forever haunted. “Adrian…” “Stefan and Sofia have been taken to the hospital. Serena tried to…” I couldn’t bring myself to say that my wife had tried to kill our children by filling them up with sleeping syrup, so I took a deep breath. “Please inform Rico and send someone to clean everything up, I don’t want the kids to come back to this.” ******* I didn’t have time to sulk over my wife’s death. In the mafia world, when a person died in the way that Serena did, they were buried immediately in a closed casket ceremony. I should have felt sorrow and longing as I watched her casket being lowered into the ground, but all I felt was anger and resentment. Serena and I had been married for six years, and on our wedding anniversary, death ended our marriage. I felt my father’s steady hand on my shoulder, but was he comforting me or trying to steady himself? He met my gaze with worried eyes, and I could see how old he had gotten. I put on a brave face, because the older my father got, the stronger I had to be. And this was the mafia, there was no space for vulnerability… even if your wife had just died. Every member of the brotherhood was there. Even Rico Romano, our Don, had travelled all the way with his wife. He was the only one who knew the truth about Serena’s death. I had a duty to report everything that happened to him. Soon, everyone would pat me on the shoulder and whisper fake words of encouragement, when in reality, they were already spreading rumors about my wife’s sudden death among themselves. “She was so young.” “He killed her.” “How could she just suddenly die the night after their big public argument?” I was thankful that my children were too young to understand what people were saying. They didn’t even really understand what had happened. Stefan, at five years old, didn’t fully understand that death was permanent. And Sofia… she hadn’t even gotten to know her mother. A new wave of fury raced through my body, but I shoved it down. Few of the men around me were friends; most of them were looking for a sign of weakness. I was a young Underboss, too young in many eyes, but Rico trusted me to rule over Chicago with an iron fist. I wouldn’t fail him or my father. After the funeral, we gathered in my mansion for snacks. Mother took a sleeping Sofia from my arms and laid her down, and my sister, Gemma picked Stefan up. They had offered to look after the children, but my mother was too old, and Gemma had her own kids to look after. “You look tired,” father said. “I haven’t really been sleeping,” I admitted. Since their mothers death, the children barely slept through the night and I had to stay up with them. An image of Serena’s bloodied body crossed my mind and I shoved it down. “You need to find a mother for your children,” my father said, leaning on his walking stick. “Ernest!” My mother exclaimed just low enough for only us to hear. “It hasn’t even been two hours since we buried Serena.” Father ignored her and looked at me. I didn’t need time to grieve Serena, he knew that. I wasn’t sure I wanted another woman in my life, but my wants didn’t matter. Only the rules and traditions of the mafia did. “The children need a mother in their life, and you need a wife to take care of you. You know what will happen if you remain unmarried. Your position as the king of Chicago will be threatened!” “Serena never cared for him,” Gemma said, scrunching her face. She, too, hadn’t forgiven my late wife. “Keep quiet, Gemma,” I snapped. She rolled her eyes but obeyed. “I suppose you already have someone in mind for Adrian,” mother said with a scowl. “He doesn’t have to,” Gemma said. “Every member of the brotherhood with eligible daughters will have contacted father already.” My sister was right. Even though my father hadn’t spoken to me about it yet, I knew that he was already receiving proposals. I was the only underboss who didn’t have a wife right now— I was hot commodity. Rico and his wife walked over. “If you need a break from your duties, let me know.” “No,” I replied almost immediately. If I took a break, Rico would perceive it as weakness, and I would never get my position back. Chicago was mine, and I wasn’t letting anyone else rule over it. Rico smiled in satisfaction. “Listen, I know it’s not a good time right now, but my brother has approached me with a proposal.” “A proposal about what?” I asked even though I already had an idea. “My brother has a daughter who isn’t promised to anyone. She could be the perfect bride for you. And think about the union between your Chicago and their city. It would solidify your position forever.” The only thing I could remember about Rico’s brother was that he was a shitty underboss. He had no real power. I was unable to remember his daughter. “Why isn’t she married yet?” Despite his flaws, her father was still high ranking. She should be betrothed to someone by now… unless there was something wrong with her. “Her engagement was called off because the man she was to marry ran off with a prostitute.” Quickly recognizing my trouble expression, father added. “She didn’t know him. He ran off before they could even be introduced.” “You can marry her in three months,” Rico said. “At least then it wouldn’t be so close to Serena’s funeral.” I frowned. “Why three months.” “That’s when she turns twenty one.” I stared at him and my father like they had suddenly grown horns. “The girl is ten years younger than me!?” “Look around, Adrian. Look where you are. This girl is your best option. The only option.” Father said. I clenched my fists. “I don’t think we should be having this conversation.” Rico stared me down. “You know the rules, Adrian. You know them better than anyone. Don’t take too long to think about it.” I watched him go. His message was very clear. I knew the rules. No one dared to disobey the Don. I had killed people for way less, so yes, I knew better. I called Paul Romano the next day, the father of the girl I was supposed to marry. “Hello, Paul. It’s Adrian.” “Adrian! What a pleasant surprise. I suppose you’ve come to a decision about my daughter.” “Yes. I’d like to marry her.”ADRIANI’d never been one for physical closeness at night. Even when Serena was alive, I rarely shared a bed with her. On the nights I did, it was more out of obligation than desire. She never hid her distaste for having me near her. If she reached for me at all, it was only because she wanted something— never because she simply wanted me. That was the kind of marriage we had. A cold and empty one.Valentina was different. She had asked me to hold her, she had sought out my warmth. And I’d refused her. The look on her face when I pulled back haunted me now as much as any nightmare.The pale light of dawn crept through the curtains, painting the room in a soft gray glow. I turned my head and found her face on the pillow beside me. Her lashes were clumped together, still heavy with the traces of tears she hadn’t wanted me to see. Her cheeks were slightly puffed from crying, and yet there was something innocent, almost fragile, about the way she slept. Sometime in the night she had drift
When Adrian finally came out of the bathroom, ten minutes later, he was barefoot and wearing only a pair of black pajama pants that rode low on his hips. My eyes betrayed me, trailing over him before I could stop myself. He wasn’t like other men I knew. Many of them, after marriage, let themselves gain weight. But Adrian hadn’t softened at all. His chest and arms were carved muscle, his abdomen was taut, his presence radiated strength and control. There was nothing gentle about him, not in his body, not in his expression, not even in those sharp stormy eyes.If he noticed me staring, he didn’t mention it. He simply crossed to the bed, pulled back the covers, and lay down beside me. He left a wide strip of space between us, enough room for another person to fit comfortably in the middle.A pang tightened in my chest. Was that how it was going to be? I had imagined marriage differently— softer and warmer. I had imagined closeness, the kind I’d only ever seen from afar.Snuggling. The wo
VALENTINAAdrian swung his legs out of the bed. His movements were relaxed and unhurried. “I’m going to clean up.” I couldn’t help it… my eyes followed him. My gaze lingered on the broad expanse of his chest, the way his muscles shifted under taut skin with each movement. My attention slid lower, to the ridges of his stomach, the sharp cut of his hips. He looked like something carved from stone, and for the first time tonight, I felt a small flicker of relief. At least I was attracted to him physically. That had been one of my fears, that I’d feel nothing.But then my eyes dipped lower still, and heat rushed to my face. Blood streaked his cock, raw evidence of what had just happened. Shame and embarrassment curled together inside me, and I quickly tore my gaze away. I’d been staring far too long anyway.When I looked down at myself, a mortified sound escaped my throat before I could stop it. My thighs were smeared, sticky and stained with a mix of blood and semen. The sheets beneath
“Do you take the pill?” I asked. It came out rougher than I intended, more like a demand than a question. It was hardly the kind of romantic words a husband should say to his new bride, but it was something I’d avoided asking all day, and it couldn’t wait any longer.Valentina gave a quick nod, and her cheeks flushed pink as though the acknowledgment itself embarrassed her.Relief pricked at me. I shifted over her, settling my weight carefully as I guided myself between her thighs. My cock pressed against her opening, but the moment she felt me there, she flinched, shrinking back against the pillows.Frustration surged hot in my chest. My body screamed to push forward while my mind snapped at me to slow the fuck down. I gritted my teeth, swallowing back the urge to snap. “Valentina,” I said, trying to catch her eyes. There was more pleading in my voice than I liked.Her wide eyes met mine. “Can you… hold me?”My heart skipped a beat. She didn’t ask me to stop, she didn’t beg me not




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