All Chapters of A Substitute Bride For The Mafia Boss: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

VALENTINA(The De Luca Estate)The shadows whispered tonight.Not the soft whispers of silk and secrets, but of something darker. Sharper.Betrayal.I could feel it like a second skin.The women of the Council had returned to their marble tombs in Rome, but their words clung to me. Too fierce. Too visible. Too much.They weren’t wrong.I stood before the mirror, stripping off the crimson silk. My scars stared back at me like medals from forgotten wars.The door creaked.Alessandro stepped in.He didn’t knock. He never did anymore. He watched me with the same hungry, volatile gaze he wore when we first met the kind that said he wanted to consume me whole, then curse me for it."You embarrassed them," he said, voice low."Good. They needed reminding."He crossed the room in three strides."You're not here to start a revolution, Valentina. You're here to preserve the legacy."I laughed. "Preserve whose legacy? Yours? Or the dead men who kept their wives in cages and called it tradition?"

~Alessandro ~She said it.“I am no longer your queen.”The world didn't shatter, but my control did.The gasps hadn’t even died down before I stood.I didn’t shout. I didn’t curse. I simply walked toward her, slow and deliberate like a storm building with every step.And she… stood there, not flinching. Not blinking. Drenched in rebellion and lipstick too red for a funeral, not red enough for war.“My crown,” I said, voice calm.Her chin lifted. “You gave it to me.”“And now I’m taking it back.”“You gave it because I earned it, not because I begged.”That was her mistake.She thought I was a man who could be defied in front of my family, my men, my empire… and still be forgiven.She thought this was love.No.This is the mafia.This is war dressed in vows and veils.This is me showing her what happens when a substitute bride forgets she was never meant to wear the real ring.Private Dungeon – De Luca Estate – 7:45 PM“I didn’t put her here,” Vito said, but wouldn’t meet my eyes. “Sh

AlessandroDe Luca Estate – His Private Study – MidnightThe silence wasn’t comforting tonight.It was mocking.I sat in my leather chair, the same one where I’d signed death orders, counted bloodstained money, and held the power of a thousand families at my fingertips.But none of it made me feel like a king anymore.She had descended those stairs like war in heels.And every eye that once bowed to me—Now knelt to her.Valentina.My bride.My curse.My undoing.I gripped the glass of bourbon so hard it cracked.Blood mixed with liquor. Fitting.She’d become a storm I couldn’t contain, not with chains, not with fear, not even with love.Not anymore.Flashback – The Wedding Ball – Two Nights Ago“You’ll kneel when you wear it again,” I told her, tossing the ring in her palm.She had laughed.Not a soft, sweet laugh the one I’d fallen for when I first saw her in Sicily.No, this laugh was cold. Metallic. Like gunfire.“You want a wife on her knees?” she said, standing taller than I’d e

~Lorenzo~I knew the moment I saw him walk past the bloodied roses that I’d lost her. Not forever. But enough gut me.Alessandro had that look in his eyes. That death before surrender gleam. And Valentina? She had fire. But this time… she gave it to him.I stood in the shadows, just where she left me, lips still marked by the taste of her, hands still trembling from the feel of her spine arching beneath them. But it meant nothing now.She went to the throne room.To him.To them.Flashback – Three Weeks Ago – De Luca Safehouse, Amalfi CoastShe came in wet from the rain, jacket clinging to her like a second skin. I hadn’t expected her. I hadn’t dared hope."I can’t breathe there," she had said, collapsing into the leather couch.I offered her wine. She drank bourbon.Then she asked me to teach her how to fight. Again. But this time, she wasn’t asking to aim. She wanted to kill."Teach me how to break a man’s neck," she whispered that night, her fingers ghosting over my chest. "In sil

AlessandroShe tasted like sin. Like betrayal. Like the last damn sip of bourbon before the building goes up in flames.Valentina.Her name wasn’t a whisper. It was a warning. Every time I said it, I felt like I was invoking something older than war. Something dangerous enough to kill me and maybe worse, make me beg for it.I slammed the door behind me, gun belt hitting the floor. She didn’t flinch. She never did. She just stood there, naked, back to the mirror, scars exposed like war medals. I saw every one. Knew most of them. Inflicted a few.She didn’t hide them.And fuck, I loved her for it."I won’t ask again," I said, voice already hoarse from the storm inside me."Good," she answered. "Because I don’t take orders."I moved. Fast. Violent. She was glass I wanted to shatter and worship all at once.Our mouths collided mine a threat, hers a dare. I pinned her to the mirror, hands on her wrists, hips pressed to hers. But she was never really pinned. She allowed it. For now.Fire co