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The Billionaire's Plaything is his Wife
The Billionaire's Plaything is his Wife
Lady Barbecue

Chapter 1

last update Zuletzt aktualisiert: 26.01.2026 02:36:04

Samantha's POV

"Did you think you could run away, princess?" he growls those words over my ears, and dread washes over me. Every sense I have, every fiber of my being is focused on one person: the man standing over me, my husband.

His ocean-blue eyes are locked on mine with an intensity that makes every single part of me quake with carnal, deep primal fear. The dark red light in the room highlights various parts of him.

The rope is being wrapped around me like I'm a sack of potatoes, big hands tying knots around my body with a precision that scares me to my bones.

All my survival instincts for escape are pointless as he ties the rope around my hands, so tight that I know they are going to leave bruises.

"You thought you could run away from me." He ties the rope around my ankles, pinning me to the post. He stands up, towering over my tied-up body.

"You thought you could escape this monster." He nibbles my earlobe, adding a new layer to my fear.

"I... I'm sorr..."

"Shh." He pauses his ministration to press a finger against my lips.

How the hell did I get myself into this?

*A few months back*

"No. I'm not marrying him."

"Samantha, please don't bring shame to this family," my dearest father says, pinching the bridge of his nose as he falls back onto his chair, groaning when his back hits the soft cushioned seat.

"Don't bring shame?" My voice gets higher with each word I say. "Don't bring shame?" I echo again in disbelief, this time louder, and I watch as he squeezes his eyes shut at the octave of my voice. Good. I can't be the only one suffering at the moment.

"Samantha, we are not going over this again. You are marrying him and that's final." Him being Lucenzo Carrero, one of the most powerful and deadliest men in Italy and the second son of the largest crime family in Italy. His family has connections all over the world. Carrero rules in the United States and several South American countries. His family is power and their second son happens to be my fiancee.

Rumours have it that Lucenzo left his family's cartel and has carved out a path of his own, but even if there's an inkling of truth to that, it still doesn't change the fact that he's a Carrero.

I feel my heart sink at his words. I have always been a daddy's girl and this is the first time he has ever said 'no' to me. The one time I desperately need a 'yes'. Marriage to Lucenzo will be worse than death.

"Ok. I will marry him." My dad gives a disbelieving look at my words. "I know this is what is best for the family. We need his connection," I add to reassure him.

He takes on a sad look, his eyes hooded, " I'm really sorry, sweetheart. If only there was another way."

I will just have to find a way.

"It's ok, Dad." I round his table and hug him, kissing him on the cheek. "I know you only want what's best for the family."

_________________________________________

I pull at the hem of my strapless satin dress paired with a black corset, wishing I'd chosen something else for this ill-advised trip. But there is no help for it. I want to get a peek at the kind of man this fiancé of mine is and see what I'm up against but he has been remarkably adept at avoiding my attempts to meet so we could get acquainted, claiming that we just need to meet at the church when the wedding is scheduled. After two weeks of his dodging my calls, I'm forced to take matters into my own hands.

I stared up at the club the cab driver dropped me off at. The only time Lucenzo Carrero wasn't surrounded by a million armed security men was when he came here. I got this information after spending money on a private investigator, money I hope was worth it.

I'm surprised by the appearance of this club, a two-story house, tall and big, set back from the rest of the houses by the huge fences surrounding it. I wouldn’t have even known it was a club if it weren’t for the black-suited men standing at the front door. They are clearly security.

I walk towards them with all the bravado and false confidence I don't possess, hoping that they don't see through my facade and call me out on it before I even have the chance to walk through the doors.

The security men seem to tense up as I approach them, but they don't say anything to me. They give me a casual once-over. Not leering at all, more simply curious. "ID, please."

With my heart in my throat, I reach into my bag and pull it out, praying they won't recognize the name on it. My family may not be as infamous or well-known as the Carreros, but we are still an influential family, and the engagement between both families is all over the news. Luck seems to be on my side because they gesture politely for me to go in, handing me back my card. I step across the threshold and into the club.

The walls and ceiling of this small entry room were painted black and grey and dimly lit by the overhead chandelier. I'm so intrigued by the unassuming appearance of the entrance that I don't notice the woman sitting behind the counter.

"Hello." I'm torn away from my thoughts by the cheerful voice. She is older than I am but has a bright, youthful smile.

“Are you new?” she says warmly to me as she opens up a book lying in front of her. Great. It is so obvious that I have no idea what I'm doing.

"Yes, I am," I say, making sure a friendly smile is plastered on my face.

The woman’s smile widens. “That’s great. I’ll get you all squared away, honey. I just need your ID”

I hand it over to her and watch as she scans it and types it into her computer, humming softly to the hallway music. She hands me the book in front of her, and she shows me a place to sign and write out my name, which I do. She smiles at me as I shut the book and hand it over to her.

“Your membership has been approved,” she says, handing back my ID. “The new member f*e is fifty.”

I try to mask the shock I feel at the outrageous amount. Fifty dollars just for a night in a club? Am I going to obtain something life-changing? I drop my credit card on the counter without a word and she gets to work scanning it in too.

“If you’re interested in watching,” she says, glancing up briefly at me, “Sir Thomas’ show is ongoing. Any questions I can answer for you?” It is clear she is waiting for an answer, but my brain is buzzing over what she has just said. Show? Ongoing? Questions? I just want to go inside.

“No, I don’t think so.”

"You can go in now," she says handing me back my card. " Hope you come again soon." I highly doubt that.

I stop just before the last door leading into the club, my heart beating fast against my chest. I turn to stare at the exit, it wasn't too late to back down. No matter what kind of man he is, no matter how against the marriage I am, the truth was that the Sheridans needed the Carrero alliance—and that alliance came at the price of my marriage to the Carrero heir. I might not like it, but desperate times call for desperate measures, so why am I doing this? No matter what I see inside, I will still have to marry him.

Do I really want to see the true image of the man I was getting married to? Won't I rather just be in a bubble at least until it bursts?

Taking a fortifying breath, I crack open the door before I can talk myself out of it. All I just want is a quick conversation to hash out our respective expectations for this 'marriage,' and come to an arrangement about how we could get ourselves out of it after our families both get what they want then I will be out of this place and on my way home. There is no way he wants this marriage to succeed as he refuses to even meet up together. I just have to find a way to convince him that a divorce after the marriage will be best for both of us.

I make it to a full two steps into the room before my brain catches up to my eyes and understands what I'm seeing.

What the fuck?

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