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Chapter 11 – Bound to Appear

The Romano mansion buzzed with preparation—staff rushing, guards assembling, cars lining the driveway. A formal gathering of families.A power display.A night where everyone watched everyone.And Mia had no choice but to attend.She stood in front of her mirror while a stylist adjusted the straps of her black silk dress, the one Don Romano insisted she wear.“You must look united,” he had said. “A strong front.”United.With the man she still swore she hated.Her stomach twisted.A knock sounded at the door.“Mia.”Mark’s voice. Low. Controlled. Too steady.The stylist barely had time to open the door.Mark stepped inside—dressed in a sleek black suit, tie loosened, hair brushed back in a way that made her heart stutter before she could stop it.He looked devastating.And he looked at her like he couldn’t breathe for a moment.“You… look beautiful,” he said quietly.Mia turned away. “Save it. We’re doing this because we have to.”Mark nodded once, accepting the coldness.But his eyes

Chapter 12 – Sparks of Rage

The moment the car doors closed outside the mansion, silence flooded the back seat.Thick.Heavy.Explosive.Mark sat beside Mia, his jaw clenched so tightly a vein pulsed along his neck.Mia stared out the window, hands trembling in her lap.But it wasn’t embarrassment trembling through her.It wasn’t fear.It was rage.Burning, humiliating, suffocating rage.The second the chauffeur opened the door, Mia shot out of the car and stormed toward the mansion.“Mia—” Mark moved after her.“No.”She didn’t even look back. “Not a word.”She pushed through the front doors, heels echoing against the marble, fury vibrating through every step. Mark was right behind her.He reached for her wrist.Big mistake.Mia whipped around so fast his hand froze inches from her skin.“Don’t you touch me,” she hissed.Mark’s chest rose sharply. “I was trying—”“You don’t get to touch me,” she snapped, voice cracking. “Not tonight. Not after this.”Mark’s eyes darkened. “You’re overreacting.”“Overreacting?”

Chapter 13 – A Glimpse of Truth

The mansion was quiet the next morning, unusually quiet—like the whole world was holding its breath after the explosion between Mia and Mark last night.Mia barely slept.Her mind kept replaying his words, his voice, his eyes burning with something she didn’t want to understand.“The thought of anyone else touching you makes me—”“It felt like someone gut-punched me.”“I can’t stand anyone else’s hands on you.”No.No.No.She refused to believe any of it.She refused to feel the way her chest tightened when she remembered it.Mia needed space.Air.Anything to drown out the sound of her own heartbeat.She left her room quietly, stepping into the hallway. It was early—sun barely rising, half the guards still switching shifts. Her footsteps echoed softly as she made her way downstairs.She wasn’t looking for trouble.It found her anyway.Voices carried from the private training courtyard—low, hushed, serious. Mia froze, recognizing one instantly.Mark.Her pulse stumbled. She should wa

Chapter 14 – The Dance of Hate

The ballroom glows with golden chandeliers and the soft hum of dangerous men discussing business under the guise of elegance. Mia Romano hates every inch of it—the masks, the false smiles, the way every pair of eyes watches her as if she’s an object Mark has placed on display.She stands at the edge of the crowd, hands clasped, jaw tight.She can feel Mark’s presence without even looking. It’s like his gravity pulls at her skin—steady, calm, infuriating.Then the music slows.A luxurious waltz begins.A murmur ripples through the room.And Mark steps forward.“No,” Mia whispers immediately, backing away. “Absolutely not.”He extends a hand. “It’s required, tesoro. Appearances.”“I’d rather choke.”His expression doesn’t change, but there’s a faint flicker in his eyes—something too close to amusement. “You can choke later. For now, dance.”Before she can argue, his hand wraps around her waist and pulls her into the center of the ballroom.Gasps echo. Heads turn.The mafia heirs watch w

Chapter 15 – The Almost Kiss

Mia slams the bedroom door behind her, pacing like a storm waiting to strike lightning. Her heart still hasn’t slowed from the dance, and her palms are sweaty—furious at herself for even feeling anything.She hated him.She should hate him.So why did her pulse still echo the rhythm of their steps?She hears footsteps.Of course he followed.The door swings open without a knock.Mark enters, silent and dark-eyed, closing the door behind him.The click sounds like a lock on her freedom.“Get out,” Mia snaps.“No.” His voice is low, dangerous. “We need to talk.”“Oh, suddenly now you want to communicate?” She scoffs. “You don’t get to control everything I do!”His jaw tightens. “I don’t control everything. I protect what matters.”“I don’t belong to you,” she fires back, stepping closer. “Stop acting like you own me.”He moves forward too, tension crackling between them like exposed wires.“You’re my wife. That comes with responsibilities.”“Responsibilities?” She laughs bitterly. “You

Chapter 16 – Ethan’s Move

Ethan paced the abandoned warehouse like a man possessed, his footsteps echoing through the hollow space. The smell of rust, mold, and gasoline filled the air—an atmosphere perfect for the kind of thoughts that had been poisoning him for days.He hadn’t slept.He hadn’t eaten.Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Mia’s face—frightened, confused, too close to him.To Mark.Ethan slammed his fist against a metal beam, breath shaking.“That bastard,” he hissed. “That smug, controlled, perfect little mafia prince thinks he can take her from me.”His knuckles stung, but he welcomed the pain. It kept the rage alive. Rage was easier than heartbreak. Rage made him feel like he wasn’t already losing Mia beyond repair.He heard footsteps behind him.From the shadows emerged a man known only as Viper—lean, sharp-featured, eyes the color of old steel. One of the underbosses of the Rossi faction, sworn enemies of the Romano family.“Ethan,” Viper drawled. “You’re late.”“I had things to handle,”

Chapter 17 – The Silent Storm

The next morning, the mansion felt colder.Not chilly.Not drafty.Cold—like someone had drained all the warmth out of the walls and replaced it with silence.Mia felt it the moment she stepped out of her room.Normally, Mark would be there.Leaning against the wall.Arms crossed.Pretending he just happened to be standing guard, when she knew damn well he hadn’t slept.But today…He wasn’t there.The hallway was empty.She blinked, confusion flickering.Good, she told herself. She didn’t need him. She didn’t even want him watching her like a shadow.But as she walked downstairs, an uncomfortable tightness twisted in her chest.When she reached the dining room, she found him.Mark sat at the far end of the long table, a newspaper open, untouched coffee beside him. His shoulders were rigid, jaw set, eyes fixed on the page as if it personally offended him.He didn’t look up.Didn’t greet her.Didn’t acknowledge she walked in.Mia stopped mid-step.That was new.Usually, he watched her f

Chapter 18 – Blood on the Pavement

The rain fell hard that night—fast, cold, and relentless—pounding against the mansion windows like impatient fists. Mia stood in the hallway, arms wrapped around herself, pacing back and forth as the storm howled outside.Mark had been gone for hours.Too many hours.He’d left on a routine mission—nothing dangerous, nothing unusual. “Just business,” he’d said. But something in his eyes had been different. Distant. Controlled. Like he was hiding the storm inside him.She told herself she didn’t care.She told herself she was only pacing because the storm made her uneasy.But the truth was clawing at her chest.She was worried.Uneasily.Shamefully.Terrifyingly worried.When the mansion doors suddenly slammed open downstairs, Mia’s breath caught. She rushed toward the staircase—then stopped halfway as a flash of motion appeared below.A guard stumbled into the foyer, dripping rain and mud.And behind him—Mia’s heart froze.Mark.But not the Mark she knew.He was staggering.Bleeding.

Chapter 19 – Torn Loyalties

The door clicked softly behind the doctor, leaving the room steeped in a tense, fragile quiet. Mia stood frozen near the nightstand, fingers curled around a damp cloth she’d been using to dab the blood from Mark’s brow. She hadn’t even realized she’d kept holding it. Her heart was still slamming against her ribs from the sight of him collapsing into the mansion earlier—bleeding, barely conscious, carried by two men like a fallen king.Mark lifted his head slightly on the pillow, wincing.“Don’t go,” he murmured, voice rough and low. “Please.”It was the please that arrested her. Mark never said please. Mark didn’t need to. He commanded, he ordered, he dominated every room he walked into.But right now… he was asking.“I’m not going anywhere,” she heard herself say. The words slipped out before she could think, before the anger could reassemble itself around her. Her voice sounded soft, almost gentle, and she hated that he made her sound like that.His shoulders relaxed. Just a little.

Ch. 20 – The Betrayal

The mansion was too quiet.Hours had passed since Mark fell asleep, his breathing finally evening out as the painkillers pulled him deep under. Mia stayed by his bedside longer than she planned—longer than she should have. But the quiet of the night and the warmth of his hand around hers held her captive in a way she didn’t understand.When she finally slipped out of the room, closing the door gently behind her, her chest felt tight. Heavy. Confused.She needed air.The hallway stretched long and dim, lit only by wall sconces casting soft gold shadows. The Romano mansion always felt too big, too alive… but tonight, every corner felt as if it held a secret.Or a threat.Mia rubbed her hands together, trying to dispel the chill crawling down her arms. She should try to sleep. She should calm down.But something tugged her toward Mark’s office.She didn’t know why. Instinct, maybe. Or anxiety. Or the lingering fear sparked by his words earlier—They asked for you.She paused outside the o

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