All Chapters of BLOOD FOR A BRIDE : Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

-Malrik Kaine- I was going to die in a forest. How poetic. The king of the mafia underworld . The monster they said had no heart, reduced to a twitching corpse in a rotting box on some nameless land. I knew I’d made a mistake the moment I crossed the estate’s border. My skin started burning from the inside out. The air tasted wrong. Thick with iron. Like blood soaked deep into the soil. But I didn’t turn back. Not with this much blood already lost. I’d been shot twice. Once in the shoulder. Once near my ribs. Silver rounds. Special order. Expensive. Designed for things that shouldn’t exist. They knew what I was. The deal went south fast. Ambush. Double-cross. My men scattered like leaves in a storm. I barely made it past the gates. I didn’t even know whose territory I’d crossed. I just knew the second the blade pierced me that I’d made a fatal move. I didn’t have time to care. If I stopped, I’d die. I might’ve started hallucinating. Maybe it was the blood. Maybe the pain. But

-Malrik Kaine- The cracked intercom blinked silently in my hand. I stared at it, fingers twitching. My body was healing—faster than expected, or maybe too slow to matter. The silver rounds buried in my ribs clung like chains, but the bleeding had slowed. I could leave soon. I had to. And when I did, I’d tear apart the bastards who dared ambush the mafia king. But then it hit me again. That heat. Not the usual cold burn of adrenaline. Not the bite of pain. No, this was something deeper. A wave of fire rippled beneath my skin, prickling with every breath. It crept up my spine and crawled into my skull. Not now. The fucking bullets. I gritted my teeth. Heat pulsed through my veins, dragging my control by the throat. I felt everything too sharply. The stale scent of blood and dust in the air. The crumbling wooden walls holding secrets they shouldn’t. The sharp tang of her—the girl. Her scent was everywhere. Copper. Sweat. A thread of something sweet underneath. I shifted, jaw cle

"I will keep my promise."The walk back to the Montova estate was... slow. My feet moved on their own, but my mind trailed behind. Fogged with regret. With disbelief. With shame. I could still feel his eyes on me , that golden gaze that had stripped me down to bone and nerve.I slammed my palm against my forehead.What the hell was I thinking?Of all the things I could’ve asked for, I chose marriage? I could have begged for escape. For a safehouse. A single night without pain. But no, I chose a ring. A title. Another prison.And I didn’t even know his name.Wow, Asa. Really earning your reputation.The Montova estate loomed ahead like a predator dressed in gold. Chrome gates buzzed open as the front cameras blinked red, scanning my face. The black iron fence retracted with a hum, and a quiet whirring sound confirmed my entrance was being logged. Marble pillars framed the front like trophies. Luxury vehicles lined the circular driveway , blacked-out SUVs, a silver Maybach, one blood-r

-Malrik Kaine- The ride back felt longer than it was. Every second wasted on the road was another second she stayed like this, burning up in my arms, skin stretched thin over bone, breath so shallow I could barely hear it. I didn’t let her go. Not once. Her head rested against my chest like it belonged there, and every bump in the road made my grip tighten. My mind was already a knife, replaying the image of her in that dungeon, the smell of rust and rot, the limp weight of her body, the red of her eyes dull with exhaustion. I’d seen cruelty before. I’d dealt it myself, wrapped in silk or carved into skin. But this? Locking your own blood underground, letting her rot until she’s half a corpse? That wasn’t cruelty. That was weakness. And weakness offended me. Asher drove in silence. My men followed in a convoy behind us, black SUVs forming a wall of steel and firepower. No one would touch us tonight. In the third vehicle, Afsana sat with her hands in her lap, a rosary looped

-Asaraiah Montova-His gold eyes hadn’t moved from mine. Not once.The weight of them was heavier than the silk blanket over me. I should have looked away, but some part of me the stubborn part that had survived the Montovas this long, refused to.My throat was raw from the scream, my body aching from days — no, a week without real movement. Every bone felt hollow, every muscle string-thin. Still, I tried to push myself upright.The world tilted.Before I could collapse, his hand was on my chin, thumb grazing the edge of my jaw, guiding my gaze back to his.“Don’t,” he said. Not loud, but absolute. The kind of tone that froze people mid-step.It wasn’t the voice of a man making a request.Afsana’s voice broke through the air, soft but edged with concern. “She hasn’t eaten since…” She trailed off, glancing at me like she was afraid to finish the sentence.Malrik didn’t even look at her. “Leave us.”Her brows knit. “I—”“I said leave.”The words cracked through the air like a whip.