LOGINMiranda was never meant to be a bride, she was collateral. She was shock to learn that her gambling-addicted father sold her to settle an unforgivable debt, she was just a young woman who is forced into a loveless marriage with an aging Mafia King, Salvatore DeLuca. A man whose power commands fear and whose name ends wars. Trapped inside a gilded prison of wealth, violence, and silence, she learns quickly that obedience is her only survival. But within the shadows of the empire lives his handsome son, the heir. Cold, ruthless, and bound by blood and loyalty, he despises the transaction that bought her life. Anger burns in him every time he sees her wearing his father's name, yet desire follows just as fiercely. What begins as resentment turns into dangerous attraction. Every glance to her is a sin, he knows that. Every stolen moment is treason. Yet Lorenzo couldn't help it. In a world where power decides fate, their forbidden love could either destroy the empire, or set them both free.
View More* Miranda *The world came back to me in fragments before I opened my eyes. First, the quiet. Not the suffocating silence I had grown used to, but the kind that meant danger was near, that something was about to happen. This silence was soft. It breathed. It wrapped around me like warm sheets, like something safe.Then the ache of my whole body. A deep, lingering soreness settled in my stomach, heavy and undeniable. My limbs felt weak, my chest rising slowly as if even breathing required effort. But beneath it all, there was something else.Something lighter. I remembered I gave birth, pushing my son oug of me. I felt my heart swell with gladness. My eyes fluttered open.The ceiling above me was unfamiliar, but I didn't panic. Not this time. My hand instinctively moved to my stomach, and I know. Flat. Not completely, not yet, but empty in a way it hadn't been for months.My heart skipped. The memories rushed back all at once pain, voices, the doctor, Lorenzo's hand gripping mine, his
* Lorenzo *"Congratulations on your healthy baby boy!"Armand cheerfully exclaimed as I went inside the library and poured myself a glass of whiskey in my eyes. I still couldn't believe it. My mind was still occupied with his tiny face."Thank you, Armand."I took a sip of the whiskey and relaxed. I haven't slept for twenty-four hours since Miranda started her labor. But strangely I don't feel exhausted at all."Any news on my brother?"It sounded casual but Armand groaned. Suddenly he remembers something unpleasant."Fortunately, Marcial was quiet boss, there is no email from him. But I am sure he already know that we have transferred into a different place. He could be trying to find us now. He seemed desperate for money the last time you spoke to him.""You're right. And how about my father?"Armand smiled and shook his head. "The old man has no idea where we are hiding. But he has paid people to look for you and Miranda. I have friends from the underground business, your picture
* Miranda *The days passed then turned into weeks, leading up to my due felt, strangely complete. Not calm. Not entirely peaceful. But settled in a way I hadn't allowed myself to feel before. Everything was ready.The small room Lorenzo had prepared had slowly transformed into something softer, something warmer than anything his world should have allowed. The crib stood near the window, sunlight brushing over it every morning like a quiet promise. The tiny clothes were folded neatly, some I had arranged myself despite the nurse insisting I should rest.I needed to do it. To touch every piece of what was waiting for our son and make it real. Because for so long, nothing in my life had been certain. But this. This was.My hand rested over my stomach as I stood there, feeling the slow, heavy shift of him inside me. Seven months had turned into eight. Eight into nine. Every movement now was stronger. Demanding to be born. Alive and kicking."You're impatient," I whispered softly, a faint
* Lorenzo *Miranda's words didn't leave me when I stepped out of the room. It occupied my mind throughout the day.Not as doubt or hesitation. Since Marcial made his demand, I wasn't thinking about how to pay him.I was thinking about why he needed the money.The door shut quietly behind me, sealing Miranda, back into the illusion of safety I had built for them. The moment the lock clicked, the air around me changed.Armand was already waiting at the end of the corridor.He didn't ask questions. "Office," I said. That was enough. Minutes later, we were underground. One of the secured rooms beneath the property, no windows, no signals getting out unless I allowed it. Armand placed the tablet in front of me, files already pulled up."Brazil operations," he said calmly. "I started digging the moment Marcial reached out."I didn't sit immediately. My gaze stayed on the screen, but my mind was still on Miranda's voice. It's odd that he would ask you for that much. She was right."Show me
* Lorenzo *I had barely reached the end of the corridor when Armand appeared again, not with the controlled stillness he usually wore, but with a tension that moved ahead of him like a warning."Signore," he said quietly, "your father has summoned your brother, Marcial."My eyebrow raised a fracti
* Lorenzo *The following day I walk up from the low noise. My phone vibrated against the nightstand before dawn dared to arrive.I was already awake. The screen glowed with one name: Salvatore De Luca, my father.I stepped onto the veranda before answering. Looking back at Miranda who is still sle
* Miranda *His kisses did not ask for permission. It was hungry like he had been holding back all night. I opened my mouth to welcome him and moaned softly as the pleasure surged through me like waves.For a heartbeat I forgot how to breathe in my own, I was taking it from him. The room, the corri
* Lorenzo *The following day we were back at the De Luca mansion. Deals were made with profits already calculated and overall it was a great event. My father was happy, thanking his new lucky charm: his new young wife, Miranda.The next morning in the mansion came normally, or we had to pretend it






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