Lahat ng Kabanata ng Auctioned As A Bride To The Mafia Boss: Kabanata 1 - Kabanata 10

I blinked. Once. Twice.How? One moment, I was standing in that VIP room, glaring daggers at Raphael while clutching that marriage contract. The next, I was sitting in a ridiculously lavish living room, staring at a crystal chandelier so massive it could double as a death trap if it ever fell."Is this how kidnappings work nowadays?" I muttered, still wearing my rabbit mask and lace lingerie like some misguided vigilante.I sat there, frozen, trying to process how I’d gone from the auction stage to 'his mansion' in what felt like the blink of an eye. Did they drug me? No. There wasn’t time. So how? "Am I... dreaming?" I muttered aloud, gripping the couch’s armrest for stability. It wasn’t comforting. Too soft. Too real.The absurdity of the situation hit me. Hard. My jaw dropped as my gaze flitted around the room—plush velvet couches, gold-accented everything, and a fireplace big enough to roast an entire cow. Meanwhile, a small army of servants scurried about, setting things in ord

The air was heavy as I walked up the cobblestone driveway to my childhood home—a house that once symbolized warmth, love, and laughter. Now, it stood as a hollow reminder of my father’s failings and my mother’s absence.The paint was peeling, the lawn overgrown, and the windows resembled dull eyes staring out at nothing. My grip tightened around the leather strap of my bag, the weight of its contents grounding me.As I approached the door, memories flooded back: Mom tending to her garden, her laugh spilling out like sunlight; Dad before he became a shadow of himself, playing catch with me in the yard. Those moments felt like a lifetime ago.I hesitated at the door, my hand hovering over the rusted bell. Memories flooded back. I remembered my father's icy sneer. My stepmother’s shrill, annoying voice. My mother’s quiet cries in the dead of night as she begged for another chance to prove herself. It all came rushing back like a slap to the face. Shaking off the nostalgia, I rang the bel

The bar smelled like spilled beer and sweat, the air thick with the stale scent of cigars and cheap cologne. It was a place where bad decisions were made, where regret marinated in whiskey and desperation clung to every surface. I had worked here long enough to know that trouble came in many forms—but this? This was the worst kind. I had seen violence before. I had seen men break bones over debts, watched them pull knives over insults, but this? This was different. The goons who had been laughing moments ago now stood frozen, their bodies rigid with barely contained terror. Even Victor, my boss, who had seen his fair share of fights, swallowed hard, his hands shaking as he took a step back. Two of the waitresses, Carla and Gina, rushed to Victor’s side, helping him up with hesitant hands before retreating a safe distance away. Their wide eyes darted between Raphael and the unconscious drunk on the floor, barely containing their curiosity. Then there was Carla—the same Carla w

[Warning~Explicit content]****“Strip.”The word hung between us, thick with unspoken tension.My breath caught as I swallowed hard, forcing my expression into something neutral. “Excuse me?” I managed, my voice sharper than I intended.Raphael leaned back against the massive headboard, completely at ease, his muscular form carved in the dim lighting. His gaze was steady, dark, and expectant. He looked like a king on his throne, waiting for his subject to obey.“You heard me,” he said, voice low, controlled. “Take it off.”A flicker of defiance sparked in my chest. I clenched my fists at my sides. “And if I don’t?”His lips curled, but the amusement didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Then I’ll do it for you.”A chill ran through me, not from fear, but from the sheer CERTAINTY in his tone. He wasn’t bluffing. He never bluffed. Raphael Delano was a man who took what he wanted, and right now, he had set his sights on me.But I wasn’t going to make this easy for him.Lifting my chin, I took a

I folded my arms across my chest, my patience running thinner than ever. My father and stepmother exchanged glances, their expressions unreadable, but I knew them well enough to recognize the greed lurking beneath their concern. "Where did you hear that rumor?" I asked, keeping my tone neutral, though my insides twisted with unease. Charles leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers against the wooden armrest in mock contemplation. "Now, now, sweetheart," he said smoothly, "why so defensive? We’re just looking out for you." I scoffed. "Since when?" Marianne gave a dramatic sigh, pressing a hand to her chest. "Selene, you wound us. We only want what's best for you. Imagine our surprise when we heard from a few sources that you’re not just any waitress but now a maid to some customer at the bar. A drunken tyrant, they say." My stomach clenched. They knew something. How much, I wasn’t sure, but it was enough to make my blood run cold. Charles smiled, as if savoring my re