The Devil's Wife

Carlos's POV

I watched her hand tremble as she slid the signed contract across the ebony table. The ink of her initials E.B. still glistened, and the sight of it sent a dark thrill straight through my veins. She was mine. One hundred million dollars' worth of fire and fear and reluctant beauty, now bound to me in black and white. The deal was done. She completely belonged to the Devil now.

She didn't look up at first. Her lashes cast shadows on her cheeks, and I could see the war raging behind her eyes, the part of her that still wanted to fight, the part that already knew fighting was pointless. Good. I liked the fight. It made the surrender taste sweeter.

I rose slowly, letting the chair scrape back just enough to make her flinch. Her gaze snapped to me as I rounded the table, each step deliberate. When I reached her, I held out my hand, palm up. She stared at it like it might burn her.

"Stand," I said.

She hesitated, just long enough to remind me why I'd paid so much for her. Then her fingers slipped into mine, small, warm, trembling. I pulled her up until she stood inches from me, close enough that I could feel the rapid rise and fall of her chest beneath that low-cut silk blouse I'd chosen for her.

I reached into my pocket and drew the dagger. The blade caught the light as I pressed the tip to her index finger. A quick prick. She gasped, a soft, broken sound that went straight to my cock. A single ruby drop welled up. I guided her hand down to the contract and pressed her finger beside her signature, smearing her blood across the paper like a seal.

Then I did the same to myself. One swift cut. My blood mixed with hers on the page, two dark stains blending into one irreversible mark.

"Now it's official," I murmured against her temple, breathing her in. "Blood binds what ink cannot."

I released her hand only to pull out the ring. The diamond was massive, cold, and flawless, just like the claim I was laying on her. I took her left hand and slid it onto her fourth finger. It fit perfectly. Of course it did. I'd had it sized the moment I decided she would be mine.

Her breath hitched at the weight of it. I allowed myself a small smile. Let her feel it. Let her see the way it marked her as Mrs. Carlos Hernandez to the entire underworld.

I stepped behind her. My chest brushed her back, and I felt her spine stiffen. Slowly, I draped the thin gold chain around her throat. The pendant, engraved on the back with my family crest and a hidden tracking chip, settled against her skin. My fingers lingered at the clasp, tracing the delicate line of her neck, feeling the frantic flutter of her pulse beneath my thumb. One twist and the clasp locked with a quiet click. She was collared now. Mine in every way that mattered.

"You belong to me in every way that matters," I whispered against her ear, letting my lips graze the shell of it. "Not just on paper. Not just in blood. Everywhere."

She shivered. I felt it travel through her entire body and into mine.

The door opened without a knock. Sailor stepped in carrying a silver tray with two crystal flutes and a bottle of my finest Dom Pérignon. She didn't glance at the contract or the blood. She simply set the tray down, poured, and handed me the first glass.

"To my wife," I said, raising it.

Elena's eyes widened, but she took the second flute. I clinked my glass against hers, then caught her chin between my thumb and forefinger, tilting her face up.

"Drink," I ordered softly.

She hesitated, lips parting. I lifted my own glass to her mouth instead, tipping it until the chilled champagne touched her lips. She drank from my glass, eyes locked on mine the entire time. A drop escaped the corner of her mouth. I wiped it away with my thumb and brought it to my own lips, tasting her and the wine together.

Sailor slipped out as silently as she'd entered. We were alone again. I stared at her for a second, her curves, everything. I could have had her last night, but I wanted to wait. I wanted her to marinate properly, and when she was well seasoned, she'd come to me by herself.

I set the glass down and stepped back just enough to look at her, my ring on her finger, my chain around her throat, my blood on the contract that now made her legally and lethally mine.

"In three days we leave for the syndicate gala," I told her, voice low and final. "You will be introduced as Mrs. Carlos Hernandez for the first time. Every don, every underboss, every enemy will see you on my arm. You will smile. You will let me touch you. And when they ask how we met, you will tell them it was love at first sight."

Her lips parted, but no sound came out. I could see the storm building behind her eyes, the fury, the fear, the unwilling spark of heat. She wanted to protest, to say she didn't want to, but her eyes fell on the contract with both her blood and initials. She had very little options, so she softened her expression

I leaned in until my forehead almost touched hers.

"Welcome to your new life, Elena Hernandez."

I didn't kiss her. Not yet, she wasn't ripe yet. I wanted to taste her when the heat was burning enough to consume us both, and from the way we both reacted whenever our gazes met, I could tell it wouldn't be long.