You Are Mine Now

It was time she said ,

The wedding dress hung like a ghost in the corner of Muna’s prison,ivory silk, Italian lace, a Death robe disguised as beauty. When Sofia fastened the last button, the mirror showed not a bride, but a prisoner dressed for display.

“It’s time, Mrs. Castelli,” Vincent said, his voice sharp as a blade.

The name burned like acid. In minutes, she wouldn’t just be his wife. She would be the key to every drug route from Miami to Boston, her father’s empire folded into Felix’s hands.

In their world, vows weren’t about love,they were about cocaine, heroin, money, and blood. Marriage was just another transaction, sealed like any deal in the underworld, with a signature, a kiss, and the threat of death if broken.

The penthouse floor looked like half church, half battlefield. White roses and shining marble made it pretty, but the men told the truth. These weren’t wedding guests. They were killers in sharp suits, dealers with gold watches, predators who built empires on drugs and blood. They came to watch power change hands, to see a war end in silk and sin.

Russian bratva sat beside Colombian cartels. Mexican sicarios nodded to Irish gun runners. Every major crime family on the East Coast had sent representatives, not for love, but to watch an empire expand through marriage.

At the top of the marble staircase, Muna held the bouquet like it was a blade. Below her, the criminal underworld waited ,men in silk ties, women in diamonds, every one of them armed. Their holsters were as full as their glasses, ready for a toast or a gunfight, whichever the night demanded.

Her first step echoed like a gunshot.

Every head turned as she walked down, ivory silk brushing against marble. She felt their hunger, the way they measured power changing hands. But her eyes searched for only three faces.

Her mother, Isabella, sat in the front row,free as Felix had promised, but changed. Tears cut down her painted face as she watched her daughter trade freedom for the Romano name’s surviva

Uncle Stefano and two other Romano soldiers sat behind her, hollow eyed remnants of their once mighty empire. These broken men were all that remained of her father's legacy.

And at the altar, Felix Castelli stood like sin in human form.

The black jacket made him look sharp, deadly, untouchable. His dark hair was perfect, his face as hard as stone, his eyes burning with something caught between hunger and war When he saw her, his mouth curved into a smile that promised both heaven and hell.

Each step felt like walking toward the man who had orchestrated her brothers' deaths. Nico and Dante had died in the streets because of the war Felix started. Now she was marrying their killer, bound by family loyalty and her mother's freedom.

Halfway down, she caught sight of other familiar faces,Romano loyalists who'd switched sides, former allies now wearing Castelli colors. The betrayal cut deeper than bullets.

When she reached the altar, Felix held out his hand. She froze, knowing that touching it was more than a gesture,it was a chain.

"My lady ," he murmured, voice pitched low. "Ready to become mine?"

"Ready to watch you burn," she whispered back, placing her hand in his.

His fingers closed around hers like steel shackles.

The ceremony began with words that sounded like funeral prayers. The corrupt judge Felix owned spoke of unity while soldiers fingered weapons. When vows came, Felix turned to face her fully, his dark eyes blazing with possession.

"Muna Romano," his voice carried across the silent room, "you are my enemy, my prize, and now my wife. I vow to keep you, claim you, and never let you escape. Your body, your name, your soul,all mine."

Gasps rippled through the crowd. These weren't wedding vows,they were a declaration of ownership.

Her turn. Every criminal in the room waited.

"Felix Castelli,” her voice cut through the hall, clear as crystal. “You are my captor, my destroyer, and my husband. I vow to stand beside you, fight you, and never bow. Until death tears us apart.”

Silence crashed over the room. No one breathed. The tension was thick as smoke,

"The rings," the judge said nervously.

Vincent stepped forward with a little black box Inside lay two bands,his, heavy black diamonds,hers, white gold lined with blood-red rubies.

Felix took her hand and slid the ring onto her finger, the metal closing around her like chains. She did the same, forcing his onto his hand. Their eyes never left each other’s ,two enemies circling, trapped in vows sharper than any blade.

"You may kiss the bride."

Felix cupped her face with a gentleness that felt almost like a lie. For a heartbeat, she saw past the ruthless boss,to the boy she once knew, the boy she had loved before blood and war burned it all away.

Then his mouth claimed hers.

The kiss was fire and possession, five years of hatred and buried desire. His lips moved against hers with desperate hunger while his hands held her captive. When his tongue swept into her mouth, she couldn't stop the small sound that escaped.

The room erupted in applause, but she only heard her thundering heartbeat.

When they broke apart, Felix's eyes were black as midnight. He leaned close to her ear, voice barely audible above the cheers.

"You are mine now," he whispered against her ear, his breath hot on her skin. "And I'm going to destroy everything you've ever loved."

His cold laughter sent chills down her spine as he straightened, smiling at the crowd like a loving groom. But she'd heard the promise,this marriage wasn't peace. It was the beginning of her personal hell.

The reception became a careful dance of violence disguised as celebration. Crime bosses offered congratulations while calculating weakness. Felix never left her side, his hand possessive on her waist, marking territory.

As midnight approached, he leaned close. "Time to consummate our union, wife."

The penthouse master suite had been prepared like a beautiful torture chamber. White roses covered every surface, candles flickered like funeral lights, and silk draped the windows. The bed dominated the room,massive, draped in black silk, waiting.

Felix shed his tuxedo jacket, eyes never leaving her face. "Champagne to celebrate?"

"I'd rather have poison."

"Later, perhaps." He moved toward her, every step predatory. "Right now, I want to claim my prize."

"I'm not your prize."

Aren’t you?” His voice was low, dangerous. His fingers moved to her hair, pulling out the pins one by one until dark waves fell across her shoulders. “You wear my ring, you carry my name, and you’re standing in my bedroom.”

"Because you forced me."

"Because you chose your family over your pride." His hands found her dress zipper, drawing it down slowly. "And now you'll choose survival over resistance."

The ivory silk pooled at her feet, leaving her in white lace that made her look like a sacrifice.

"Christ," he breathed, drinking in every curve. "Even more beautiful than I remembered."

"This changes nothing between us," she whispered, even as heat pooled under his hungry gaze.

"Doesn't it?" His hands traced the lace edge of her lingerie. "Your body remembers me, even if your mind refuses."

He was right, and she hated him for it. Her skin came alive under his touch, nerve endings firing with need she'd buried for five years.

When he lifted her onto the bed, she tried to push him away. "Don't do this."

"You're my wife," he said, catching her wrists, pinning them above her head. "This is my right."

"You promised not to hurt my mother if I married you. You got what you wanted."

"His free hand slid down her body, drawing a shiver she couldn’t hide. She arched against him, hating herself for it. His mouth curved in a cruel smile. “Because what I want is you ,broken, surrendered

begging for more.

She bucked against his hold, trying to escape, but he was stronger. Always had been.

"Fight me," he whispered against her throat, his lips finding her pulse point. "I like it better when you fight."

His mouth moved lower, stealing her breath, and her resistance broke. Pride shattered as pleasure burned through her veins. When he finally claimed her, it was both desperate,like a man taking what he’d long hungered for and cruel, the ruthless mark of an enemy sealing his conquest.

In the candlelit darkness, their bodies tangled in a war disguised as passion. Hate twisted into raw desire, each touch like a claim, each kiss like a strike meant to bruise and bind.

Felix moved over her with ruthless control, every motion demanding surrender. His mouth was fire against her skin, his grip unyielding, forcing her to feel him, to respond whether she wanted to or not.

“Fight me,” he whispered against her throat, his breath hot, dangerous. “Hate me all you want. It only makes you mine.”

And she did fight,until the pleasure drowned her pride. Her nails raked his back, not in love but in defiance, and he only laughed low, dark, victorious. Their rhythm grew harsher, desperate, as though each of them needed to destroy the other and couldn’t stop themselves.

Her body betrayed her, arching, yielding, breaking beneath his. His eyes never left hers,dark, burning, almost wild,as if he was both claiming her and daring her to survive him.

When the final shudder overtook her, it felt like falling into fire. He held her down, owning every gasp, every tremor, as if carving his name into her soul.

“This,” he murmured, voice ragged but sure, “is only the beginning.”

Hours later, she lay bound in silk sheets that felt more like chains. Felix rose, adjusting his cufflinks with calm precision, as if the battle between them had been nothing more than his victory.

At the door, he cast one last glance over his shoulder, a cruel smile curving his lips.

“Sweet dreams, Mrs. Castelli,” he said. “Tomorrow, you’ll learn what it truly means to be mine.”

And with that, he left her in the darkness,marked, conquered, and forever chained to the man she swore to hate.