All Chapters of Forced To Be The Mafia King's Bride: Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

Dante’s POVThe suit was black. Not the glossy kind worn at funerals, but a matte, tailored black with gold cuff links that caught the faint light. The kind of suit men wore when they weren’t just attending a meeting, but claiming a throne. I buttoned the jacket slowly, watching myself in the mirror.The black silk shirt underneath was open at the throat, showing the crucifix against my skin, the last gift from my father. Wearing it now meant everything.My fingers smoothed down the jacket. My reflection stared back, all grey eyes and controlled rage. “This is the moment you’ve waited for five years....” I muttered under my breath. “Your revenge is almost complete....”Behind me, Bruno’s voice cut through my thoughts. “They’re all out there, boss. Every Clan head, every soldier, every hanger-on in this city. Waiting to see their king take the head of the table again.”I watched him through the mirror, eyes narrowing. There was a hint of reluctance in his gaze, as if he wanted to say s

Gianna’s POV Marriage? To Dante De Luca? It would be an absolute nightmare. The thought alone made my stomach turn in different directions, fury tearing through me like fire in my veins. The last thing I wanted was to be bound to that man, as his wife, as anything permanent. And yet here we were... a hall full of men who thrived on blood, violence, and power. Men who traded women like property and believed they had the right to decide my fate without even asking if it was what I wanted. Another voice, one of the Clan heads at the far side of the table, spoke up quickly. “Augusto has a point, Don. A marriage would be... symbolic.” The air shifted at once. Every gaze snapped to me, curious, judging, weighing me against Dante as though we were already bound together. My lungs burned as I held my breath. And then there was Dante. He sat at the head of the table, fingers casually tracing the rim of his wine glass. The small, lazy motion made my heart pound faster. I waited, no, pra

Gianna’s POV Fury radiated off Dante like heat from a forge, his hand clamping down on Niccolò’s shoulder and practically tearing him away from me. The sheer force of it stole the air from my lungs, leaving both of us stunned. “You’re done here.” Dante growled. Niccolò’s eyes shifted between us, fear and confusion written across his face, his mouth opening on a stammer. “I…” But Dante wasn’t listening. He brushed past him without another glance, his focus locked entirely on me. Before I could speak, his hands, his arms, were on me. One strong arm hooked around my waist, dragging me hard against his chest. My breasts flattened against the hard plane of his chest.... his scent, spice, smoke, something purely male, flooded my senses. His other hand came lower, splaying wide over my hip, dragging me tighter until I was molded to him. A tremor shot down my spine, my fingers instinctively reaching for the back of his neck. And then, he moved. The music shifted, and so did we

Gianna’s POVNiccolò’s face hardened. “It’s not like that! I was just looking for the restroom, I saw her and..”“Liar.”Dante shoved me behind him, his arm a shield as his other hand fisted Niccolò’s shirt and slammed him into the sink so hard I feared for his back.He towered over him, his sheer size swallowing Niccolò, who looked utterly overpowered, no match for him at all.“Dante, stop!” I cried, clutching his arm. “He wasn’t harassing me, it was a mistake!”He turned his head, his glare slicing into me. “A mistake?” His voice was low, deadly. “You’re telling me this bastard just accidentally found you here?”I swallowed hard, nodding quickly. “Yes. Please, just let him go.”But he didn’t. His grip tightened. Niccolò’s eyes met mine, a quick glance and that set Dante off. His face went harder than stone.“You look at her one more time,” he snarled, lifting Niccolò until his feet barely brushed the floor. “And I’ll break you in half.”Niccolò struggled, shoving at his arm. “I swea

Gianna’s POV Gianna was nervous. I could smell it on her. But she obeyed, stepping out of her dress. “Face me.” She turned, and for a long moment, I couldn’t move. She wore a red lacy bra and matching panties, suspenders clipped to her thigh-high stockings. Her breasts were full and round, pressing against the fabric, rising and falling with each uneven breath. My gaze slid down her chest to the soft curve of her tummy, then lower, resting between her legs. Her thighs twitched slightly, and I knew she felt the same heat building between us. Need slammed through me. I wanted to tear those panties off, to find her slick and ready. I slid my fingers along her, teasing her clit, pushing inside, feeling her open up for me. Every shiver that ran through her, every soft gasp, drove me harder. I pushed into her, my cock throbbing painfully, blood hammering through me. I couldn’t get the image of her stroking herself on the bed out of my head, even as I stroked myself, my hand slick with