All Chapters of The Captured Mafia Bride: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

Lyla(16 years)A heavy force had landed on Mama's face. I closed my eyes and ears, haunted by the sickening yet familiar sounds. My father hits her while she sobs silently. I wondered what she had done this time, what exactly had triggered this beating. My sister faced the wall, pretending to be engrossed in whatever music was blasting from her headphones but I knew she was listening to the same sound.Suddenly, it was very quiet. Too quiet. “What's going on?” I asked Silvia. She removed the headphones and sent a glare my way. “Why don't you go see it?”My younger sister could easily choose to accompany me, but I knew she hated the smell of blood that our mother was covered with after a beating from my father. Blood and alcohol. He only hit her when he was drunk, or when his meetings went bad and he got drunk. I sighed and got up, going to the office. My father was punching,sweat dripping over his brows and his fingers were covered with blood.My mum wasn't moving.We had clear rules

Lyla (Wedding Day)The corset tighter around my waist, cutting off my airflow. Mama whispered to the stylist is it was fine and she let it go, knotting it twice at the waist.“You look beautiful,моя прекрасная дочь” my Mama whispered as she stroked my hair away from my face. My hair had been curled tightly, to give me ringlets and made it wavier than usual.“I'm scared Mama,” I said, genuinely allowing myself to bask in these emotions.“A man can be easily controlled, my dear. All you have to do is pretend.” was her soft reply.I wasn't scared for myself. I was scared for my Mama. What if my father got angry one day? Silvia was too little to stop their fights and the guards? They just looked away.I didn't bother correcting her, just nodded. Hopefully my new husband will be a wuss that gives me his credit card to shop with. That reminded me.“Mama, here,” I picked up a little purse at the side of the desk and brought out my black Amex card my papa had given to me on my fifteenth birth

Achilles POVToday was meant to go smoothly. Enter the wedding. Shoot up Daniel Donovan for the bastard acts he committed against us. Kill his brother and kill our other enemy, Russo.You know, a one stone, two bird kinds thing.However, it seemed they knew we would come. I couldn't have that, people being able to tell my moves. I mean, they knew the AXE would come for their heads as we found out what they did but I loved to be silent about things.More importantly, we were meant to have no witnesses.Everything started going left when Emilio decided he couldn't be patient enough to wait for our men to come. I mean,we had been investigating these crimes against us for years, finally decided it and his blood was hot. I get it.He still rushed though. I cast a side glance to my brother, seeing how tense he still was. He needed his vengeance. After Emilio shot the groom in the head, I had noticed how the doe eyed bride didn't flinch. She actually looked somewhat relieved that he was d

Lyla POV I opened my eyes slowly, adjusting to the ray of heavy sunlight that filled the room from the large window. My head hurts, but not as much as it had after papa would hit me. Yes, my father started hitting me. I mean, I had embarrassed him. I avoided his hits but some of them would knock me out cold. Most of the hits were because I was trying to protect my mum from him. My mouth tasted bitter, and I was certain I was bruised all over. I sat up gently, trying to access the wounds I may have in my body. That was when I felt the stickiness between my thighs. “No, No, questo non può essere,” I muttered under my breath. These men were savages, I already knew that. But raping me? I put my hand between my thighs, feeling the stickiness and bringing it up. It was white, I thought, examining it. It wasn't red. Had they defiled me? Someone had cut my gown off my body in the night. Very carefully, making sure to remove all the extra layers. They didn't even nick me a

Xiomar POVLyla Russo.She looked even better than what we had heard. Everyone had talked about her,she probably was clueless as to how much of a celebrity she was. I mean a powerful don daughter no one has ever seen? She was a golden egg.I have touched Lyla Russo. Twice. To be honest, the first time, I was sane then. I was dedicated to my craft, and all I saw was a teenage girl that has so much issues and she wanted the exact tattoo my brother has on. She didn't know it was family insignia but yeah, somehow, we collectively agreed to mark this girl as a Draghi. I mean all she had to do was to brag to a few friends after about her cool fire breathing tat.Today I touched her again. I ran my hands over my hair, gripping the steering of my Mercedes-AMG G 65 till my hands physically hurt.I needed to let out this steam quickly.Why did she have to be beautiful? Why did she have to look at me that way, and the sound that came out from her when I manhandled her?I had already promised mys