Married to the Mafia: A Wife's Deadly Reckoning

Julian’s POV

The air outside Cassiel Morelli’s estate was thick and stifling. Even with the cool night breeze brushing against my skin, I could feel the weight pressing down on my chest. The iron gates had locked behind me with a resounding clang, cutting off any chance of escape—not that I had anywhere else to go.

I stood at the entrance, my fists clenched at my sides as the butler led me through towering double doors. The mansion swallowed me whole, drowning me in the feel of wealth that felt suffocating rather than impressive.

Marble floors gleamed under dim chandeliers, casting ghostly reflections of me as I moved forward.

I hadn’t been in a place like this in a long time. Not since my world had collapsed.

Not since Cassiel Morelli had helped destroy it.

The butler stopped at another set of doors, polished wood carved with intricate designs. He opened them with a slight bow, stepping aside.

I squared my shoulders and walked in.

Cassiel was waiting.

He sat in a high-backed leather chair, one leg crossed over the other, fingers lightly gripping a glass of whiskey. He didn’t rise, didn’t greet me — he simply watched, like a man assessing something he already owned. His steel-gray eyes flicked over me, sharp and unreadable.

I swallowed the bitterness creeping up my throat.

“You look awful,” Cassiel finally said, voice smooth as silk. “What happened to the arrogant prosecutor? No designer suits, no polished shoes? You’ve certainly fallen far.”

I ignored the jab. I didn’t have time for Cassiel’s games.

“I need your help.”

Cassiel raised a brow. “My help?”

I nodded once. My nails dug into my palms. “My brother’s been taken. The police won’t do anything. My old associates in the legal world won’t lift a finger. I’ve exhausted every option.”

I exhaled slowly. “You’re the only one with enough power to get him back.”

Cassiel leaned back in his chair, swirling the whiskey in his glass. The silence stretched between us, heavy and suffocating.

Then, he smirked.

“What are you offering in return?”

My stomach twisted. I had expected this. Cassiel wasn’t the kind of man to do favors. Still, hearing the words out loud made my blood turn cold.

“I have nothing left,” I admitted. “No money. No connections. But if you help me, I’ll—I’ll owe you.”

Cassiel’s smirk deepened, as if amused by the very idea. “Owe me?” He stood, moving toward me with slow, deliberate steps. “That’s not how I do business.”

I clenched my jaw. “Then what do you want?”

Cassiel stopped just inches away and I could smell the faint scent of whiskey and something darker—power, control.

“I want you.”

The words hit me like a slap.

Cassiel let the silence sink in before continuing. “As my husband.”

I recoiled as if burned. “Are you insane?”

Cassiel only smiled. “Not at all. You need me, and I find myself in need of a… companion.”

My pulse pounded in my ears. “That’s not companionship. That’s ownership!”

Cassiel didn’t deny it. “You walked in here knowing I’d name my price. This is it.”

I shook my head incredulously. “There has to be something else.”

“There isn’t.”

Cassiel’s voice was calm, but there was a quiet finality beneath it. A warning.

I forced myself to breathe, to think past the suffocating weight of this conversation. “Why?” I demanded. “Why me?”

Cassiel studied me for a moment, his gaze shone with amusement. “Because you fascinate me.”

My stomach churned. “You think I’ll just say yes?!”

Cassiel’s smirk never wavered. “I think you’re running out of choices.”

My hands curled tighter if that was even possible. I hated this. Hated that he was right.

Cassiel reached out, his fingers brushing my jaw and I jerked back. He chuckled.

“I’ll give you three days,” he murmured. “Three days to decide. But understand this—if you walk out now and come back, my price may change.”

I glared at him. “Go to hell.”

Cassiel only smiled.

“Tick tock, Julian.”

I turned around and stormed out of the mansion, barely holding in the rage boiling beneath my skin. My breath came fast, my mind spinning.

Marry Cassiel Morelli?

It was unthinkable.

My hands trembled as I reached into my pocket for my phone. I needed air. I needed—

My phone vibrated and I frowned, glancing at the screen. An unknown number along with a message.

“We have your brother. If you want to see him alive, don’t go to Morelli.”

My blood ran cold and my breath caught in my throat as I read the message again.

My fingers tightened around the phone. A cold sweat broke out across my skin. My worst fear was being realized—Bash wasn’t just missing. He was being used as leverage.

My pulse hammered as I looked around the vast driveway. The mansion’s guards stood at their posts, oblivious. The iron gates remained shut, as if trapping me in my own nightmare.

My instincts screamed at me to turn back, to demand answers from Cassiel. But what could he do? What if the message was real?

I inhaled sharply, forcing myself to think.

‘Who sent this?’

My mind raced through the limited options I had left. The message could be a warning or a taunt, but either way, I couldn’t afford to ignore it.

I took a shaky breath and made my decision as I walked in large strides towards my car and got in.

I leaned against the headrest as I sat in my car, gripping the steering wheel so hard my knuckles turned white.

My heart was still pounding from the text message.

I stared at my phone, debating whether to reply. If I did, would they hurt Bash? If I didn’t, would they assume I was ignoring the warning?

My breath was uneven and my thoughts spiraled.

Cassiel was dangerous, but so was this person.

One of them had Bash.

One of them could save him.

I closed my eyes. I only had three days to decide but I wasn’t sure I really had that long.

I finally typed a response: “Where is he?” But before I could hit send, headlights appeared in my rearview mirror. A black SUV.

It didn’t move.

Then, slowly, the passenger door opened and someone stepped out.

And they were coming straight for me.