All Chapters of The Hellhound’s Bride: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

My Mother used to say that nothing was a coincidence, and honestly, I believed her. I understood luck, as silly as it sounded but there was nothing coincidental about the Vice Chairman of the New York Mafia being in Italy. I do not want to care about this or think over it too much but it is impossible not to. I, more than anyone else, keep trying my hardest not to get into anything related with the Mafia and yet, somehow, I had the blood of one of their kind on my fingers. And a mad one at that. The Hellhound, they called him. Even though he was important, he was known to go on certain missions with his underlings though those particular ones were usually very specific. Anyone who ever got a visit by the New York Mafia with him being there meant they had done something terrible and could not live to the next day. I know how all of this sounds. Eve Bianchi, do you not want to stay away from all of this madness? I want to! But I also enjoy being informed, knowing my chances and how t

“I just want to make it clear that I did not support any of this before you go on your rampage,” Damien's voice is soothing to hear now since we are surrounded by hundreds of other people that I do not enjoy. I don't bother to reply and I know he does not expect one so he continues, “You are aware that your Father sent you to gather information—”“With my cock.”“... At the very least, you're listening but you are aware that we have no plan, yes? You flew us here all of a sudden in a hurry and—”I tune out that part, my interest at holding a conversation with anyone else gone as my eyes stay focused on the belle of the evening. Eve Bianchi floats through the ballroom in a light pink gown that fits her flawlessly, its beaded bodice accentuating her curves. As she moves, her steps are graceful like a butterfly, her smile bright enough to light up the entire room which it does, while her manners are polite and courteous.She knows she is loved by every person whose eyes find hers and sh

“We’re here,”I look up, my irritation already coming up to my voice before I can control myself. “I see. Where is… here, exactly?”It looks like we’re in the middle of nowhere. I can't even tell where we are even though we are still in Italy. Before Damien responds, he’s at the door, helping me out of it. “It’s one of the many bases Lucien tortures people at times. He said that you might like the background,”“Ah,” I say, though I don’t voice my thoughts. My eyes fall on the only building in this desolate place around us and I walk to it. The second I get in, I can’t help the wave of surprise that flashes through me as I realize that the inside looks… different. The house looks like an almost rundown building but inside… It's almost breathtaking. The air is thick with the scent of jasmine and old books. A path of deep crimson rose petals leads down a central aisle, flanked by pews of dark, polished wood.The ceiling is a cascade of wisteria, thousands of delicate purple blossoms tum

“Do you think Eve would mind if I came back home smelling like alcohol?” I ask, eyeing the bottle in front of me. We’re now in a club that’s only a few meters away from the island. Of course, no one here in this town knows of that place, and the few that do have been paid off by the previous inhabitant who’s now somewhere down in the middle of the sea. “All of this is fascinating. I’m not sure what to do,”“I will be amazed if she’s still there when we return,” Damien sounds like he hasn’t slept for years as he picks up a cigarette and places it in his mouth, lighting it now. “You are pushing her past her boundaries. Not sure if she needs all this egging on,”“Where will she return to? Really? She came because she has no one.” I can’t help the trickle of pleasure that the thought brings me. It feels the same way driving a knife in the back of someone’s skull would have made me feel. Light. Important. Like I am not just a waste of air in a world filled with people with purpose. I ha

It has been five hours and Lucille Hellfire will not speak to me. Five hours since I walked out of my room and he noticed I dyed my hair black— thanks to the hundreds of things he left in that room. He had on a smile which quickly disappeared the second he noticed it. He walked away after and Damian appeared, serving me food he prepared and drinks before he mentioned that the moment I was done, we had to leave. I wanted to ask questions but I didn’t because something told me Damian wouldn’t really tell me what I need to know until Lucille permits it. So I stayed quiet. Damian said I didn’t need to pack— Lucille didn’t think I did. He also spent the rest of the day relaying every message Lucille could have told me himself, and honestly, I didn’t care. I don’t care. “Damian, tell Bianchi to decide where she’d rather go when we land,” His voice isn’t directed to me, of course, even when right now, he’s seated right next to me on the plane, his face buried in a newspaper that