All Chapters of The Mafia Devil’s Wrong Bride: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

Annalissa Hale The car finally pulls up at the Romano mansion. I stumble a little as I climb out. I know Dante caught the slight tremble in my legs, the way my hand brushes the door for support, because his lips twitch. I head towards the house, trying to catch my breath and I can hear his footsteps behind me. Goosebumps trails up my arm as I try not to look back. Just as I reach the foot of the stairs, Enzo appears. He corners Dante and I turn, watching as he whispers something into Dante’s ears. Dante’s gaze goes cold and our eyes finally meet. My knees almost give out but I hold on to the railings. He turns away towards the exit, accompanied by Enzo. Did something happen? I sigh in relief immediately they’re out of the house. As I walk up the stairs, Ornella rushes past me, giving me a knowing look before turning the corner. Something in my gut tells me she knows. She knows how I fell apart in the backseat under Dante’s punishing touch. She knows how I let him, how

Annalissa HaleI can’t believe it worked. I’d almost died when I found out Maria was gone. I’d thought, maybe my one simple advice, “Just listen to your heart,” drove her to it. And when Dante drove us to that park and I saw her sitting there, I just knew I needed to make her stop being scared, to believe in something.So I weaved a story about Dante and I. Totally the opposite of what we are but it paid off. She believed it. Probably because the deal about Dante saving my father’s company and marrying Clarissa in return, was not known by any of his family members besides his grandfather.Now, as we drive back home, Dante keeps glancing at me at every turn. His gaze feels like it might burn a hole through me. I shift in my seat. I have a feeling he was very uncomfortable with the story. Being painted as the relentless lover isn’t the kind of image he wants to portray.He probably went with it because it saved the wedding.As we pull into the Romano palace, I glance at Maria thro

Dante RomanoIssa arrives late.And looking like sin wrapped in silk.The dress clings to her curves like it was made for her and her alone. White crystals shimmering under the sun, that slit teasing the length of her leg with every step. My jaw tightens as she walks, every eye in the goddamn place dragging over her.I keep mine fixed too.But for very different reasons.Then Dominic has the audacity—the audacity—to wink at her.And she smiles back.My fingers curl into fists. I want to rip his eyes from his skull, snap his neck like dry wood, and scatter the pieces where no one will find them. But not today. Not on a Romano wedding weekend. Bloodshed on a day of union is a tradition I won’t break, not even for him.Because if the Don breaks rules, what message does that send to his capos, his guards, his empire? That I’m ruled by impulse? By jealousy? No.I’m ruled by nothing.So I swallow the urge, but I keep the thought. Slow ways to make Dominic bleed later. Pains subtle e

Dante RomanoAll day, I kept her at my side. Six hours of watching her smile politely at elders, bow her head when told, pretend she wasn’t chafing under my hand on her thigh. A punishment. My punishment for that smile she gave Dominic.But when I stepped away to neutralize a threat, I forgot to warn her about one thing. The afterparty drinks. They’re never just alcohol. Not in this house. And my little wife seems to have swallowed one whole.Now she’s here, sprawled on my bed. Her pupils are blown wide and instead of being furious, I’m amused. Very fucking amused.I crouch, lowering myself to her level. Her eyes meet mine. “You want me to take it off for you?”“Yes.” The word slips from her mouth without hesitation.Heat slides through my veins. I pull her gently to her feet. “Turn around.”She obeys. My hand finds the zipper and I drag it down slowly. Her dress slides off her body, crumpling at her feet, leaving her in nothing but delicate red panties.Christ. Her skin is fl

Dante Romano The Romano dining hall is loud with chatter, cutlery clinking, glasses being poured, but all I can hear is the thrum of my own pulse. Issa is seated to my right, close enough that her perfume is in my lungs, close enough that I can feel the nervous energy rolling off her. My hand rests firmly on her thigh beneath the table. She flinches a little. She acts like her body doesn’t respond to me every time I touch her. Just like last night when she came for me, twice. But as usual, she’s either blaming the drug or doesn’t want to admit it happened. Coward. Makes things a little less interesting. I want to conquer her, make her finally admit she wants me to fuck her. After that, she’ll probably seem less interesting or entertaining to me. Then I can decide what to do with her, since my intel already has a lead on the whole Clarissa mess. Annalissa means nothing to me. But even as I say this, I notice how Dominic stares at her from across the table. He doesn’t even