All Chapters of The Mafia's Kidnapped Bride: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

ArynHe told me to eat.So I fucking ate.Not because I wanted to, not because I was suddenly okay with everything that had happened. I was far from okay. I was broken and bleeding in places no one could see. But when Lorenzo said he saw Lily, when he threatened her—I came back to life.I hated him.I hated him so much I could barely breathe when he was near me. But I needed Lily to stay safe, and if obeying him like a damn puppet would keep her breathing, then that’s what I’d fucking do.So the next morning, when the maid came in and told me, “The boss said you should get dressed and come down for breakfast,” I didn’t argue.I put on the cream-colored dress they left for me. I brushed my hair. I didn’t wear makeup—I didn’t need to pretend to be anything more than what I was: a girl playing hostage in a castle of wolves.I walked down the stairs, my bare feet padding against the cold marble until I reached the dining hall.And that’s when I realized he wasn’t eating alone.The long ma

ArynI stood there, seething, watching the black car disappear down the road. Every fiber of my being vibrated with pure, unadulterated rage. That arrogant, condescending son of a bitch! How dare he leave me stranded like that, all for the benefit of his little airport floozy? I swore I would get him back for this, and it wouldn't be with a polite note or a well-mannered confrontation. This was war.Just as I was about to consider walking all the way back to the mansion, a sleek, black SUV pulled up beside me. The window rolled down, revealing a face I didn't recognize but whose eyes held a flicker of amusement."Mrs DeLuca?" the driver asked, his voice calm, almost too calm. "Mr. DeLuca sent me to pick you up."I scoffed, yanking the door open and practically throwing myself into the backseat. "Oh, he did, did he? How incredibly thoughtful of the bastard." I slammed the door shut, making the driver flinch slightly. "Next time, tell your 'boss' to go fuck himself."The drive back was

Aryn“You know,” Marcus said, leaning against the doorframe of the guestroom we had entered, a smirk playing on his lips, “I know a place that could really take your mind off things.”I looked up from where I was sprawled on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. The dinner had been a fucking nightmare, and Isabella’s presence still felt like a sticky film all over me. My head throbbed, not just from the wine, but from the sheer exhaustion of pretending I didn’t care.“Oh yeah?” I deadpanned, not bothering to sit up. “And where the hell is that, Luca? A padded cell? Because that’s about the only place I want to be right now.”He chuckled, a low, rumbling sound. “Better than that, I promise. Think… loud music, flashing lights, no DeLucas in sight. Unless you count me, of course.”I squinted at him. “What are you talking about?”“A club,” he said, pushing off the doorframe and walking further into the room. He stopped by the window, looking out at the dark gardens. “A place where you

ArynI wanted to answer him. I really did. My mouth opened, but all that came out was a giggle. A stupid, drunken giggle. The words were stuck somewhere behind my tongue, refusing to form. My head swam, the lights spun, and the bass pounded so hard it felt like my brain was trying to escape my skull.“Can’t talk, huh?” he chuckled, and his hand, big and warm, reached out and grabbed mine. He tugged, gently, and somehow, I stumbled off the stage, landing right in front of him. The ground swayed beneath my feet, and I leaned into him instinctively, my hand still in his.“Mmm, pretty,” I mumbled, looking up at him. His face was still a blur, but his smile seemed friendly enough. “You’re pretty.”He laughed, a deep rumble. “You’re a firecracker, aren’t you? Let me get you another drink, beautiful.”“Drink!” I clapped my hands, a little too loudly. “Yes! More drink! This stuff is good. Sweet. So sweet.”He led me through the crowd, his grip firm on my hand. We reached the bar, and he leane

Aryn The sun was just beginning to rise by the time I slipped into the mansion. The front gate hadn’t even creaked – perks of knowing every damn back entrance and the staff’s schedules like the back of my hand. I moved like a ghost through the halls, barefoot, my high heels hooked by two fingers and the short black dress rolled tight under my arm. I didn’t want to see anyone. Especially not Lorenzo. My brain kept spinning with flashes of last night – Marcus’s lips, the sudden, desperate heat between us, his hand brushing the side of my neck like he was memorizing the shape of me. And then his eyes, full of fucking feelings. Real ones. The kind I didn’t want to deal with. Not from him. Not from anyone.Damn it.I reached the guest wing – or what Lorenzo mockingly called my “anger suite” – and slipped inside. It was the room I always used when I couldn’t bear to sleep beside him. The place I ran to when the fights got too loud or the lies got too heavy. It was my escape hatch, my temp