Chapter 1

ISABELLA'S POVMy wedding gown was soaked in sweat.My hands trembled as I stared at the blood on Matteo’s shirt. His white dress shirt was ruined, streaked with red, sticking to his chest like it belonged there. My brother’s eyes were wild, his jaw locked tight, one hand pressed to my back like he thought I might collapse. He wasn’t wrong.“Tell me again,” I whispered. My voice cracked. “Tell me it’s not true.”Silence.Adrian stood in the doorway, pale as chalk. His hands were empty, but his eyes weren’t. They carried the truth he couldn’t say.The hallway outside my bridal suite pulsed with chaos. Heavy footsteps, rushed voices, men barking orders, my father’s voice slicing through the noise downstairs.But no one answered me.Because it was true.Angelo Moretti, the man I was supposed to marry in two hours, was dead.Shot in the head. Shot in the stomach. Left in his car like a goddamn warning. Like a message written in blood and bone.My knees buckled. Matteo caught me, pulling m

Last Updated : 2025-09-15

Chapter 2

ISABELLA’S POVThe church smelled like smoke and roses.Candles burned in tall silver stands. Their light flickered over the white aisle, the polished pews, the faces of men dressed in black. Soldiers lined the walls. Their guns were hidden, but not really. Every step I took told me this wasn’t a wedding. It was a funeral dressed in lace.My own funeral.The veil over my face was heavy, suffocating. My hands shook inside satin gloves. Somewhere above me, the organ played a hymn that sounded like mockery.Two hours ago, I was a bride-to-be. Now I was a widow-to-be and still walking down the aisle.Because the world didn’t stop for my grief. Because my father said so.I gripped the bouquet so hard the stems snapped. My legs wanted to give out, but Matteo’s arm forced me forward. He looked calm, proud, like escorting me into hell was an honor.His whisper burned against my ear. “Stand tall, Isabella. Don’t disgrace us.”I wanted to scream. I wanted to rip the veil off and run. But my kne

Last Updated : 2025-09-15

Chapter 3

DANTE’S POVThe car was too quiet.Too quiet for a wedding night. Too quiet for the lies dressed up as vows. Too quiet for the war already bleeding into my veins.I leaned back in the seat, my arm stretched along the leather, eyes locked on the woman sitting across from me.My new wife.Isabella Russo. No, Isabella Moretti now.Her head was turned to the window, veil trembling, bouquet long gone. She sat still, stiff, like she was carved from marble. But I saw her hands twisting the lace on her lap. I saw the fear in her silence.Fear of me. Good. Let her be afraid. I never wanted marriage. Hell, I never wanted to marry her. She was Angelo’s girl. His bride. His future.Not mine.But now Angelo was on the ground, his throat cut, his body left with bullets in his chest and a black veil covering his face. A message. Clear. Sharp. Unforgivable. Whoever did it wanted me broken. Wanted me to crawl. Wanted me to wear grief like chains.But I wouldn’t give them that. No.I’d give them blood.

Last Updated : 2025-09-15

Chapter 4

ISABELLA’S POVThe door shut behind him.For the first time that night, I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. My body sagged against the wall. My knees were weak, my chest tight, my head spinning.Relief. Not comfort. Not safety. Just relief.Dante Moretti had left me alone.I pressed my hand against my heart, feeling it race, like it wanted to punch through my ribs. The sound of his voice still rang in my ears, low, sharp, unforgiving. Don’t flatter yourself. I don’t fuck scared, unwilling women.Those words slammed into me harder than I expected.Why?Because they were true. Because they were honest. Because they came from a man who didn’t pretend to be something he wasn’t.And God help me, because part of me didn’t feel scared. Not of him. Not the way I should have.I hated him. I wanted to hate him. But my body… my body didn’t listen.Dante wasn’t like Angelo. Angelo had been soft, almost beautiful. His face carried a light, like the sun always touched him. He smiled eas

Last Updated : 2025-09-15

Chapter 5

DANTE’S POVThe smell of coffee filled the dining room before she even walked in. Dark roast, strong, bitter. Just the way I liked it. The maids had laid out the spread, eggs, fruit, fresh bread, bacon, and enough juice to feed an army. I sat at the head of the table, my chair pulled back just enough so I could see the long stretch of marble floor leading to the stairs.Waiting.I hated waiting.I told myself it was because I had work, meetings, calls. My schedule didn’t bend for anyone. Not even her. But my hands wouldn’t stay still. They tapped against the wood. They curled into fists. They rubbed at the stubble on my jaw.The word rolled through my mind like a curse.Wife.I had never used it. Never wanted to. The thought of belonging to someone, or someone belonging to me, was foreign. A contract, maybe. An alliance, sure. But wife? That wasn’t me. That wasn’t my life.Then I heard her.The click of soft steps. The faint rustle of fabric. The hesitation at the bottom of the stairs

Last Updated : 2025-09-15

All Chapters of Claimed By The Mafia Devil: Chapter 1 - Chapter 5

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5