Chapter Three

Chapter Three

Luca’s POV

It was rare to see a girl untouched. A body no man had ever laid hands on. I thought she just had an innocent face, but I never knew she could be that innocent.

I should’ve felt proud, being the first and only one to taste her. But it wasn’t just about that. There was something else, something I couldn’t explain.

That was a good reason for wanting her more. I know this might sound insane, but I have never been more attracted to someone that way.

Being the most powerful Mafia in the entire country? That was my biggest flex. I got anything I wanted. No one dared to stop me.

A message popped up on my phone, snapping me out of my thoughts. I reached for my pocket, hoping it was from one of the men we were about to make a deal with.

It was my father.

“What the hell is this old man up to now?” I muttered. I opened the message—and my jaw tightened. How long was he going to keep on reminding me about this!?

"Bring home a bride. Or forget about everything you worked for." That was the message which he had sent. 

My fists clenched.

Yeah, I knew I was thirty-nine. But I never planned on having kids. The legacy was supposed to die with me. I didn’t care.

But my father clearly had other plans. Stubborn bastard.

Then it hit me. Mirabelle.

There was someone I could use for this role. Someone already here. Someone I bought.

“Fine, Father,” I replied, typing quickly. If he wanted a show, I’d give him one.

He passed the empire to me because I was ruthless. But he still had power and he knew how to use it.

I turned and walked back into her room.

She was still naked. Sitting at the edge of the bed like she didn’t know what to do next.

My eyes dropped to her chest. Her nipples were still hard. My mouth itched to taste her again.

Why the hell did I leave her here in the first place?

The urge to go one more round was strong. I’d never felt anything like it. I wanted her—again. And again.

“Uhm… are you back for your gun?” she asked quietly, pointing to it on the bed, trying to change the awkwardness in the room right 

“No.” My voice was flat. “Get up. Bathe and get dressed in ten minutes. We’re going somewhere. There are clothes in the closet.”

Then I left.

I shouldn’t be doing all this. I never kept girls this long. They left right after I fucked them.

But she was still here. And now… things were different.

Because of my father. Because of this ridiculous bride act.

Because of her.

---

The hospital reeked of antiseptic. I hated that smell. I hated hospitals.

But here I was again. Mira walked in front of me, silent, her hips swaying in that thin silk dress.

I caught myself staring.

Every man would want her.

Too bad I already owned her.

We were near the last hallway when she turned around. “Where are we going? Why are we here?”

I didn’t stop walking. “Just play along.”

I swiped my card over the final door. She followed me in.

My father was already sitting on the hospital bed like he’d been waiting. His eyes lit up when he saw her beside me.

Mirabelle looked confused. Completely lost. She didn’t know why I brought her here.

My father, already weak from cancer, stood slowly and walked toward her.

“He made the right choice, picking you to be his bride.” His wrinkled hand touched her chin gently.

I scoffed. All this? Just an act until he died.

Mirabelle’s hand slipped around my wrist, like she was asking for answers. I ignored her. She just needed to play along.

That shouldn’t be hard for someone I bought.

On the table beside him was a document. My eyes flicked to it. The inheritance form.

And my name wasn’t on it.

“How long have you two been together?” he asked.

“One—”

“Six—”

We spoke at the same time. Our eyes locked.

“One year,” she corrected quickly.

My father’s expression darkened. “A whole year? And you didn’t say anything?”

“I wasn’t sure if I’d marry her,” I said. “Wasn’t ready for it. But now, since you’re threatening me… I’ll just do it.”

I moved toward them. “You’ve seen her. That’s all you need, right? We’re leaving.”

“Not so fast.” His voice was sharp. “You think I’ll believe this so easily? No. I need more. A real court marriage. Something big. I want proof.”

Damn it.

Things just got worse.

---

We stepped out of the room.

“Why are you doing this?” she finally said, breaking the silence.

I didn’t answer.

“Hey! Stop ignoring me and say something!” she snapped. Her voice was louder now. Angry.

I turned slowly.

She was pissed. She didn’t even know I hated being questioned.

“Doing what?”

“Lying to that man! Dragging me into this! Don’t you have any conscience at all? You didn’t even—”

My hand wrapped around her neck.

Her eyes widened in panic. She struggled against my grip, fingers clawing at my wrist.

Her back hit the wall. Her legs trembled.

I saw it in her eyes—fear. Pleading.

I let go. She dropped, coughing, one hand on her throat, the other braced against the wall.

“You don’t question me,” I said, voice cold. “

You’re just a whore doing what I say. I bought you. You’re mine.”

I leaned in close.

“Follow my instructions. Or you might actually die.”