All Chapters of Sold To The Ruthless Mafia Don: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

RueAlessandro Vanilli is not in love with me. That’s absolutely impossible.It is. It has to be.There’s no way he’s in love with me.I glance at Claire. She must be delusional. She doesn’t know what she’s saying.I chew on my bottom lip, trying to shove the thought away, bury it somewhere deep. I don’t want to entertain the idea of Alessandro having feelings for me, not even a little. Because I know it’s impossible. Absolutely, undeniably impossible. And I’m not about to raise my hopes for nothing.“Your father reached out,” Claire says, flipping through the mail scattered across her desk.Why people still send physical letters in this digital age is beyond me.“Oh. . .” I finally react, blinking.She looks up, her eyes meeting mine. “Why are you surprised?”“It’s nothing,” I say quickly.Aside from the fact that my father has never once tried to contact me since Alessandro took me in as his pet, there really isn’t any other reason to be shocked. He had erased me from his life so th

RueAlessandro had sex with Celeste.Alessandro had sex with Celeste.Wait! he fucked his mistress while I was lying in a hospital bed?My husband fucked another woman while I was unconscious?I turn to Claire, and from the way her nose scrunches and her lips part in shock, I can tell she’s just as stunned.“This can’t be true,” she says, shaking her head slowly.I want to believe her. But I don’t know what to believe anymore.“It’s not true,” she repeats, firmer this time, like she’s trying to convince herself.“It could be.”“No. I know Alessandro. He’s not the kind of man to. . .”Her words die in her throat as the devil himself walks in.Alessandro.Luka follows silently behind him.Alessandro walks toward me and hands me three things, a bouquet of fresh flowers, a teddy bear, and a box of chocolates.My head is pounding, but I reach for them anyway, holding them gently in my arms. I hate that I still admire the gesture.The teddy bear is soft and impossibly cute, almost identical

Rue’s POV It’s two days until the wedding, two days before I see Alessandro again. In the week he’s been gone, it’s actually been… peaceful. Refreshing, even. The house has felt fun and lively. I’m not saying my husband is an evil man, but he carries this rigid, commanding energy everywhere he goes. Like joy isn’t allowed to breathe around him. “Stand still,” the dresser says. I obey, holding my breath as she yanks the zipper up, forcing my waist into the dress. I’m a size eight being shoved into a size six. The moment she is done, I clutch my stomach, struggling to inhale. “What do you think?” she asks. I glance at the mirror. Do I look snatched? Absolutely. Can I breathe? Hell no. “I can’t breathe.” “It’s a corset dress, darling. You’re not supposed to breathe properly.” “I think we should try a bigger size,” I insist. She presses a finger to her chin, pretending to consider it. “This already looks perfect on you. A bigger size would ruin the fit, don’t you think?” “

RUE I wake slowly, the weight of sleep refusing to lift easily. My head throbs dully, a leftover reminder of yesterday’s exhaustion more than anything else. Sunlight filters through the sheer curtains, spilling across the room and catching the soft shimmer of my wedding dress hanging by the window. For a second, it looks almost surreal, like something from someone else’s life. I reach blindly for my phone on the nightstand, fingers fumbling with hope. Maybe he called. Maybe there’s a message. Maybe he cares enough to check in. But the screen is blank. No missed calls. No new texts. Nothing. A hollow feeling curls in my chest, and I stare at the phone longer than I should, like maybe if I just wait a little longer, his name will flash across the screen. It doesn’t. I force myself upright. There’s a dull ache pressing behind my eyes, the kind that says I didn’t rest enough but got too tired to fight it. It doesn’t matter. Today isn’t the kind of day that waits for anyone to feel

RUEAs soon as we step inside, the air changes. My throat tightens, my chest locks up. I keep walking until we’re out of sight, then stop near the staircase, needing something, anything, to hold me upright.Claire turns toward me, concern etched across her face. “Are you okay?” she asks gently.I exhale, but the breath shakes on its way out. “Why does he hate me so much?” My voice cracks. “I’ve never even done anything to him.”Claire glances toward the entrance, jaw tight. “It’s not about you. It never was. He just… doesn’t like anyone he can’t control.”I nod, but it doesn’t dull the sting. “He pretended I wasn’t even there, Claire. Like I was just the dust on the floor.”“I know,” she says softly. “He did the same thing to me the first few years. It’s his way of showing power, acting like the rest of us don’t matter unless we serve a purpose.”I look away, blinking fast to push back the heat behind my eyes. “Is this what I’m marrying into?”Claire’s voice stays gentle, but there’s