LOGINHe needed a bride. I was never meant to be the one walking down the aisle. When the Marazona family came to claim a debt, my stepmother offered her precious daughter to the ruthless and dying Vincenzo Marazona. But on the wedding day, she sent me instead. Broken. Replaceable. Unwanted. Vincenzo Marazona made one thing clear the moment his ring touched my finger— this marriage was a business transaction, not a love story. He was cold, cruel, and running out of time. I was only a substitute bride trapped in the empire of a man who did not believe in mercy… or love. But the longer I lived under his roof, the more dangerous he became. Because the dying king who never wanted a wife was beginning to look at me like I was the only thing he had left to lose. And in the Marazona family— love is the deadliest mistake of all.
View MoreDon Vincenzo MarazonaThe boardroom emptied gradually as the final meeting of the day dragged to its conclusion. Contracts worth hundreds of millions lay signed on the polished mahogany table, awaiting my final execution. Men twice my age had spent three grueling hours arguing over shipping routes, investments, and acquisitions, all while pretending they didn’t live in fear of the reality that every signature ultimately required my approval. By the time the last executive filed out, silence settled heavy across the top floor of Marazona Holdings. The city stretched beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, bathed in gold and orange beneath the dying sun. I loosened my tie and turned my attention to the reports waiting on my desk. Three financial summaries. Two political updates. One intelligence briefing. A normal day. The office door opened without a knock. Only a handful of people dared. Adriano Matteo stepped inside. I didn’t look up immediately. “Something important?” A lon
Serafina MarazonaTime lost all meaning inside that sterile white room. It stretched into an endless, suffocating blur, marked only by the arrival and removal of untouched food trays and the growing ache in my muscles from a bed that was never meant for rest. No windows. No clocks. Nothing to anchor me to the outside world except the muffled sounds drifting beyond the heavy metal door—distant footsteps, low voices, the occasional metallic grind of locks. At first, every noise jolted me upright, heart seizing with desperate hope. Vincenzo had found me. His men were coming. The door would burst open any second and this nightmare would end. But it never happened. The hope curdled into something heavier, colder. Cassandra returned at irregular intervals, her presence as calculated as it was unnerving. Sometimes she fired sharp, probing questions meant to peel back my defenses. Other times she simply sat across from me, cigarette smoke curling from her fingers while she studied m
Serafina MarazonaThe first thing I felt upon regaining consciousness was a sharp, throbbing pain pulsing relentlessly behind my eyes, as though my skull had been cracked open and carelessly stitched back together. Nausea followed swiftly, twisting my stomach into violent knots that made me gag even before I could fully surface from the heavy layers of darkness. I coughed hard, the sound echoing strangely in the sterile space around me, and forced my eyes open. White ceiling. White walls. White floor. A barren, windowless room stripped of any warmth or personality, like a cage designed to break the spirit before the body. For several long, disorienting moments, I simply lay there staring upward, my mind struggling to piece together the fragments— the wrong turn in the taxi, the locked doors, the driver’s cold eyes in the mirror—until panic slammed into me like a tidal wave.I sat up too quickly, the room spinning wildly around me as my vision blurred with dizzying streaks of white.
Serafina MarazonaThe first thing I did after returning to our suite was collapse into sleep—not because I wanted rest, but because my body finally surrendered after nearly twenty hours of poring over endless files, reports, security briefings, financial records, family histories, and blood-soaked secrets that painted a far darker picture of the Marazona empire than I had ever imagined. By the time my head touched the pillow, exhaustion pulled me under like a riptide, swift and unforgiving.When I woke again, the room was empty and the sunlight had shifted across the lavish furnishings, casting long golden shadows. The clock on the nightstand told me I had slept through most of the afternoon. For several long moments, I lay there staring at the ornate ceiling, the silence pressing in around me like a living thing. The Marazona estate itself never truly slept—somewhere beyond these thick walls, guards rotated in silent shifts, meetings unfolded with ruthless precision, phones rang wit
Don Vincenzo MarazonaThe taste of her still lingered on my tongue—sweet, desperate, addictive. Serafina’s broken moans and the dark hickey I’d sucked into her neck should have satisfied the beast for a while. They didn’t. Nothing did anymore. Not her trembling surrender, not the way her cunt had
Don Vincenzo MarazonaA sharp cough tore from my chest, forcing me to grip the edge of the desk until my knuckles cracked. I pressed the handkerchief to my mouth, and when I pulled it away, the fresh red stain mocked me under the low light. Blood. Always that metallic fucking reminder that my body
Don Vincenzo MarazonaDinner finally ended, but the tension in the room still felt like a loaded gun.Serafina had been drinking quietly for the last hour. Not enough to embarrass herself, but enough that her cheeks were flushed a pretty pink and her eyes had gone soft and glassy. Every time she li
Don Vincenzo Marazona I walked into Serafina’s room for the first time. The door was already open. Two maids were fussing around her like she was made of glass. I leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, and just watched. She stood in front of the full-length mirror in nothing but lace pant






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