02: The dictator

Lilith

"I reckon you be on your best behavior tonight, Lilith Russo," her father hissed into her ear as they both walked down the staircase overseeing the guests who had been invited to her impromptu engagement party.

Her engagement party was ongoing, guests scattered about in pairs, swaying to the music after the engagement announcement was made minutes ago.

Her eyes scanned the room for her fiancé, but she saw him nowhere.

"Don't you trust me, Dad? I am always on my best behavior," she answered in a sugary voice, earning a dark look from him.

After the stunt she had pulled at the dinner two days ago, her father and mother had drilled into her ear how reckless she was when acting.

She had received another round of whips from Dad and countless daunting words from Mother, which was why she indulged them today and wore the golden gown paired with black pumps that they had shopped at Brandy for her.

P.S. She did not go on any of the shopping with them.

"This is the Mafia. No matter the suits and business cards you see, we are all criminals. I do not trust anyone, and you must not too." There was a wistful note in his tone. "So be careful..."

He did not get to finish before she slammed into a brick wall. She stumbled, instinctively reaching up to steady herself.

Gritty palms and masculine heat reached for her fingers.

Oh shit! That was not a damn wall.

Her eyes traveled up past the lapels of a black suit, the open collar of a white shirt, and the tanned column of a strong, masculine throat before they rested on a beautifully carved face, shadowed with amusement.

"Careful there, Lilith." Rayne De Luca's cool voice slid in, skittering goosebumps along her skin. "You should watch where you are going."

"Mr. Russo. I will leave you two to talk—it is your engagement party after all."

Her father sauntered away, leaving her at the mercy of her fiancé, who was now staring at her with a dangerous look—all amusement faded from sight.

"We did not get to interact enough the first day I met you. I hope we get to know each other well through this."

She scoffed. "Isn't it funny that we are getting to know each other on our engagement day?"

"You think it is funny?" he inquired.

She rolled her eyes, dropping the act instantly. "Why did you agree to this arrangement, De Luca? From what I heard, our families are supposed to be at loggerheads."

"My father thinks it is best we put our differences apart."

"Or maybe you are practicing the 'keep your friends close or your enemies closer'?"

He paused, furious eyes regarding her slowly. His smile soon switched to a dangerous smirk. "You are smart," he answered.

"What?"

Before she knew what was happening, he grabbed hold of her hands and led her to the podium. He grabbed the microphone.

"What the hell do you want to do?" she questioned.

"Just watch me, Lilith."

"Hello everyone!" His cool voice skittered through the crowd, commanding their attention.

From the corner of her eyes, she saw her family staring at them curiously.

"I want to welcome you once again to our engagement party. It is with great pleasure that you are here to honor the union between the two strong families of Crown City. But also, I would very much like to keep this short. My fiancée and I would like to get married today, and right this instant."

Her stomach bottomed out just as the guests went haywire.

"Are you insane!" she whisper-yelled, struggling to wrench her hands free from his grip.

He pressed it down with a scowl. "Stand still, Lilith Russo."

He needed not to repeat his words. His tone was domineering and spellbinding; her legs seemed to freeze on the spot.

"Good girl," he whispered.

The endearment washed over her, twisting her insides in a bitter way.

Her mother looked like she was going to pass out. She was sure Amelia had thought of ways she wanted the wedding to go. Too bad—Rayne crushed her dreams.

She steadied herself on Rayne's hand, deciding to play along with his announcement. She would gladly accept this as long as it pissed off Amelia Russo.

She shot her mother a grin. Take that, mother dearest, not everything will go your way.

"Shall we find a priest?" her father spoke above the guests' confusion.

She guessed her mother wasn’t the only one eager to kick her out of the house.

---

She got married.

Never in her wildest dreams did she think she would be moving into her husband's house two days after meeting him. But as the butler came for her luggage—which she had hastily packed—her reality greeted her in the face.

The said husband was nowhere to be found. He had handed her over to his driver after their engagement-turned-wedding party and vanished out of sight.

The De Luca mansion was freaking huge—even more massive than hers. She expected it, though. Their family was crazy richer than hers.

"Welcome, Mrs. De Luca," a woman who stood at the doorstep greeted her with a warm smile. She looked not over forty.

Mrs. De Luca. The title was unfamiliar, but it was a reminder of who she was and where she was now. Even though by blood she was still a Russo, she was now a De Luca by name.

"I am Betty," she continued. "The maid."

"Ah, Betty. Good evening."

She beamed. "Welcome home, ma'am. I will lead you to your room."

She followed her, passing through doors until they got to one which Betty pushed open. "Here is your room," she announced, as if it was not pretty obvious.

Her mouth fell open when she entered. The room was not just any room—it was a perfect replica of her room in her father's house. From the pale blue color of the room to the way it was arranged, and even her paintings hanging on the wall.

"The Master gave us strict instructions to do a good job."

She was about to reply when she felt the cold presence of an unknown guest—or rather, the owner of the house. Betty scurried out at his presence, leaving her to face her husband all alone.

She knew it was him even before she turned around to face him.

"Do you like it?"

It was his eyes she saw first. Striking blue ones that seemed like they were searching her soul. Danger lurked beneath those eyes, and his lips curled up in a smirk were enough to send her heart beating all over the room.

"Do you want me to?" she retorted.

She was not the fearful type. She was not like Riya who would pee her pants if she was confronted. She was the girl who killed a man when she was twelve. The woman who had spent every year of her life since then being her father's right-hand man, yet receiving whips for every mistake she made.

Rayne regarded her silently. The scent of his oaky cologne filled up the room, almost choking her.

"Chris forgot to tell me how feisty his daughter is."

"Not feisty. Violent."

He loomed in closer, crowding her space. "What do we do now, wife? I like my women willing and submissive."

Wife. The word was a reminder of who she was now. A trophy in the hands of Rayne De Luca. It left a bitter taste in her mouth. She had envisioned more for herself—not retiring into a made man's house as a baby-making machine.

"You will not find this woman willing and submissive," she shot back in defiance.

"I know. Which is why I will teach you to be that wife I want."

He reached for her chin and softly caressed it, then in a switch, he pressed down, earning a groan from her. Images of a familiar scenario flashed through her head, immobilizing her.

"I will teach you how to bow to me. I will break you, Lilith, and I will enjoy doing it. Now strip."

Her heart hammered at his words.

"You are insane if you think I will do that."

"Lilith. I hate when people do not listen to me," he growled.

He was swift, invading her space and reaching for her neck in an instant. Suddenly she was pinned to the wall with his palm tight around her neck, almost crushing her windpipe.

Tears blurred her vision as she reached out to claw his hands away.

"When I let you go, you strip for me, wife," he whispered harshly.