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Chapter 7
publish date:
2026-09-21 05:51:17
Latest chapter
The Mafia Heir's Arranged Bride Chapter 7
The floor was cold beneath my knees. Or perhaps it was the wall. I couldn’t tell up from down, the ceiling from the floor, or how much time had passed—a second, an hour, an entire night condensed into one long, stretched-out moment without edges.Voices. Someone’s voices, muffled, as though they were coming through water, through a wall, through something thick that stood between me and the world. I couldn’t make out the words. Only the tone—low, dangerous, or perhaps frightened. Maybe they were the same voice, sounding completely different depending on how close I was to the edge of consciousness.Someone was calling my name. Maybe.My hand was heavy. Metal in my palm—cold at first, then strangely warm, as though it were sticking to my skin, as though it had always been a part of me. My fingers trembled around it, but the sensation felt distant, as though I were watching my own hand through glass, through a haze, through someone else.The sound of breathing. Mine. Someone else’s. I c
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His hand shot toward my face, and for a moment I closed my eyes, convinced he was going to slap me. Instead, I felt his hand lower the neckline of my shirt slightly and his fingers gently brush the skin of my chest until he reached the little piece of paper and pulled it from my bra. He held it up in the air, gripping it between his index and middle fingers in front of my face. He read what was written on it, then looked at me with a murderous stare.“What is this?” he asked, his voice so calm that it was worse than shouting.“I found it,” I replied. “That’s all you need to know.”“Wrong answer.” His eyes moved predatorily over my face, my neck, my cleavage, and I felt my skin prickle with every passing second. “Where. Did. You. Find. It?”“It’s none of your business,” I quipped.His hand flashed before I could move, catching my jaw—not roughly, but firmly enough that I couldn’t turn my head. “Everything you do is my business. Remember that.”“Then let me go,” I said through clenched
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"That guard you looked at so dreamily already lost his head. And still you haven't learned that you belong to me — only to me." He growled."You're insane, you killed an innocent man, I swear I wasn't looking at him!" I screamed desperately.He pulled my head back by the hair and I felt a sharp pain at the crown of my head. "I'm insane, am I? You think I didn't see the way he looked you over, head to toe? The way you looked back at him?""That didn't happen!" I pulled at my restraints, feeling the shackles cutting into my wrists above my head. He completely ignored my attempts of having a normal conversation for once. "Because you're my wife, I'll give you the privilege of choosing your own punishment." Luka said — though I couldn't see him through the blindfold, I felt his breath against my ear and knew he was standing somewhere behind me."Do you want the whip, or something more creative?" he said, his voice soft, almost mocking. I bit my lip, feeling powerless to say anything, cer
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The door opened without warning. I froze, my hand still inside his drawer, and when I looked up, Luka was standing in the doorway, watching me with an expression I couldn't read.I expected rage. I expected him to walk over and grip my arm hard enough to leave bruises, the way he'd done before. Instead, he closed the door behind him, slowly, and laughed — a real, quiet laugh that was a thousand times more chilling than his shouting."How sweet," he said, walking toward me unhurried, hands in his pockets, as if he had all the time in the world. "You think you can snoop around my office and I won't find out.""Luka—""Since you're acting like a spoiled brat," he continued, his voice calm, almost pleasant, "I'm going to treat you like one."Before I could react, he grabbed my upper arm and shoved me face down across the desk, sweeping the laptop and papers aside with one smooth motion, sending them crashing to the floor in a clatter that echoed through the empty office."Luka, let me go—
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In front of me, tied to a metal chair, sat Eliot. His face was pale, his lips cracked, and his eyes, when they met mine, begged for something I didn't know how to give him. "Tell him," Luka whispered beside my ear, his voice calm, almost gentle, which made it even more chilling. "Tell him how much you like it when I fuck you." "Luka, please," I whispered, my voice breaking. "Tell him," he repeated, tightening his grip on my fingers as a warning. "Tell him how you scream while I destroy your pussy." I shook my head, tears already streaming down my cheeks, but I couldn't make myself say those vile words, not in front of him, not in front of Eliot, whose eyes were now full of disbelief, betrayal, fear. Luka sighed, like a disappointed parent, and turned to one of his men standing in the shadows. "The bag." "No—" I tried to pull away, but his hand wouldn't loosen. "No, please, don't, I'll do whatever you want, just let him go—" It was too late. A black bag covered Eliot's head, an
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I slid down the wall onto the floor and began sobbing into my palms. “Why are you doing this to me? Please, I’m begging you, stop…” I cried. As I inhaled, I caught the metallic smell and realized that my tears were mixing with the blood from my nose in my hands. He knelt beside me, and I instinctively moved away. He grabbed my hands and pulled them away from my face. I expected another blow, or another forced sexual assault, but Luka only looked at me. And for the first time since we had seen each other again after childhood, I thought I saw some emotion in his eyes. He tore off a piece of his white shirt, crumpled the fabric, and gently pressed it against my nose to stop the bleeding. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.” He said it so quietly that if I hadn’t held my breath and stopped sobbing at that exact moment, I wouldn’t have heard him. I took the piece of fabric from his hand and moved away, as far from him as I could. I shook my head and closed my eyes. “Please, just let me go. I
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