THE MAFIA TWINS' BRIDE

The silk sheets stuck to my body like a second skin. My head pounded so hard like it would split open. I bolted upright, my heart slamming hard against my ribs, as I stared at the heavily tattooed arm pinning me to the bed.

I didn’t know this bed nor did I know this man.

A gun glinted on the nightstand, scars cutting across his knuckles and shoulder. I knew this was definitely not my fiancé’s place. Gosh I'm in a deep mess right now.

I swung my leg toward the edge, reached for the black dress crumpled on the floor. My phone buzzed nonstop on the nightstand; forty-seven missed calls from my sister and my fiancé. Messages flooded in faster than I could read.

A deep voice rumbled beside me, lazy but dangerous. “You’re not going anywhere.”

His fingers locked around my wrist before I could pull away. He didn’t even open his eyes fully, like he already knew he had trapped me in his tight grip.  

I twisted hard, my voice coming out hoarse. “Let go. I...I was drugged. This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

He finally looked at me. Dark eyes. Sharp jaw. The kind of face that made people cross over to the other side of the road. A slow smirk tugged on his lips. “Drugged or not, you’re in my bed now, sweetheart.”

My stomach dropped. “Who the hell are you?”

“Dominic Valencia.” He said it like the name explained everything and it actually did. Everyone on the East Coast knew Dominic Vale, the strongest mafia boss, the one who took what he wanted even if it meant burning down everywhere. “And the whole city already knows you spent the night with me.” 

My phone kept vibrating. I lunged for it with my free hand. Dominic didn't stop me he let me grab it without loosening his grip. He just watched, amused, like this was all part of his plan.

The screen filled with notifications. Grainy photos of me stumbling into this building last night, my dress slipping off my shoulder, laughing in a way that didn’t feel like me. Hashtags everywhere. #ValeMistress. #EngagementOver. Numerous comments calling me a slut, a gold-digger, a traitor.

My face turned pale. “This can’t be real...” I muttered.

Dominic sat up slowly, his muscles shifting under that inked skin. The sheet slipped low on his hips. “It’s real. Your sister made sure of it.”

My head snapped toward him. “What did you just say?”

He shrugged one shoulder, casual as hell. “She wanted your fiancé for herself. She slipped something in your drink at that party. Pushed you straight to my door. Nice plan. Messy, but it worked.”

I yanked harder against his hold, my anger cutting through the panic. “You knew? And yet you allowed this to happen?”

“I don’t let things happen, Lila.” His voice was calm, but his grip tightened just enough to remind me who was stronger. “I make them useful. And right now, you’re useful to me.”

Hearing my name in his mouth sent a shiver down my spine which I hated. I swallowed hard. “How do you even know my name?”

“I know everything about the woman who ends up naked in my bed.” He finally let my wrist go, but only to brush a strand of hair off my face. The touch was too gentle for a man like him. “Your sister wanted you gone. She got her wish. Now the whole East Coast thinks you’re my latest whore.”

Tears burned behind my eyes, but I blinked them back fast. I wasn’t going to cry in front of him. “My family… my engagement…”

“Both gone.” Dominic leaned closer, his voice dropping low. “Your fiancé already canceled everything. Your father is getting calls from people who used to respect him. All because of one night you don’t even remember.”

My phone rang again. I snatched it up with shaking fingers and answered before I could stop myself .

My sister’s voice came through, sweet and smug. “Lila? God, you sound terrible. Rough night?”.

“You fucking bitch,” I hissed, my voice edged with fury. “You drugged me. Sent me here on purpose.”

A soft laugh came through the phone speaker. “I told you I’d break that engagement of yours. Now you’re ruined. Everyone’s talking about how you couldn’t keep your legs closed, opening them wide for Dominic Vale. Dad’s already disowning you in private. Your fiancé just posted that he’s single again. Congratulations, sis. You’re officially trash.”

The words hit me like punches. I gripped the phone so tight my knuckles turned white. “You think this makes you win? You...”

Dominic snatched the phone from my hand and ended the call with his thumb. He tossed it aside like it was nothing. “Enough talking to her. The deed is already done.”

I stared at him, chest heaving. “Give it back. I need to...”

“Need to what?” He cut me off, his eyes locked on mine. “Beg her for mercy? Or Crawl back to a man who just threw you away? .” He caught my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. “You’re staying here. As my wife. On paper, at least.”

“Your what?” The word hit me like a slap. 

“Contract wife.” He said it plain, like he was ordering coffee. “You give me an heir. And in return I give you protection. Your family lives. Your name gets cleaned up from this mess the way I want. Simple.” 

I laughed, but it came out broken. “You’re crazy. I’m not having your baby. I don’t even know you.”

“You know enough.” His thumb brushed my jaw, almost soft, but his eyes stayed hard on mine. “Right now, the only thing keeping your sister and that spineless ex of yours from fucking blowing off your brain is my last name attached to yours.”

My mind spun. The photos. The calls. My own sister sounding proud of destroying me. Everything I had; my engagement, my safety, my place in the family; gone in one night all because she wanted what was mine.

Dominic watched me piece it together, with that steady dangerous calm of his. “Think fast, Lila. The longer you fight me, the faster they come for you.”

I wanted to scream. I wanted to run. But my legs felt too heavy, and every new buzz from my phone reminded me the world outside this room already hated me.

He leaned back against the headboard, arms crossed over his chest. “Clock’s ticking. What’s it going to be?” he said.

Before I could answer, my phone lit up with a new message from an unknown number. A single photo of me and Dominic walking into this room together last night, his hand low on my back like I already belonged to him.

Underneath it, one cold line:

“Tell Dominic his new toy has twenty-four hours before we make her disappear for good.”

I looked up at him, throat tight, my voice barely above a whisper. “They’re coming for me.”

Dominic’s smirk faded. For the first time, something sharper flashed in his eyes; raw possession. He pulled me closer until our faces were inches apart, his breath warm against my skin.

“Then you’d better say yes, wifey. Because once you’re mine, nobody dares touch what belongs to me.”

My heart hammered so loud that I could barely hear myself. “I don't have a choice, do I?” 

His answer came as a low,

satisfied growl against my ear.

“No. You don’t.”