All Chapters of Bound To The Devil Heirs (The Marcelli Bloodline Series): Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

Talia I'd always dreamt of my wedding day. It wouldn't be something extravagant. Just a quiet ceremony by the beach, barefoot in the sand with a handful of people I loved. Nothing like the charade I was being forced into now. “You look beautiful,” Mother whispered. Her hands trembled slightly as she clasped the last piece of jewelry around my neck. I didn’t feel beautiful. The dress was too tight, made to hug Valentina’s slender frame, one she’d maintained with a strict diet. Each breath pressed against the boning of the corset until it felt like my lungs were being squeezed shut. She fussed over the lace, as if her nervous energy could fix what was wrong. As if tucking me into this gown could disguise that I was the wrong Russo bride. In the mirror, I looked like a ghost. A pale, hollow-eyed parody of Valentina. Mother had darkened my hair with a temporary rinse and combed curls into it until my scalp throbbed, but I could still smell the chemical under the perfume sprayed to ma

Talia My feet stopped working. Mother nudged me forward, but they still wouldn’t move, because I knew, without a shred of doubt, that our lives were about to be ruined in a matter of minutes. “C’mon now, we don’t bite.” The voice came from the end of the long table, sounding far too amused for the tension strangling the room. The man who said it wore an easy grin, his dark hair brushed back carelessly. Beside him sat another man with the same face, only his mouth was a hard, straight line. Next to them was a woman, maybe my age or older, with sharp blue eyes that scrutinized me from head to toe. I refused to look at the man by her side, even though I could feel his gaze burning through my skin. The world had to be playing some sort of cruel twisted joke. Father cleared his throat, turning to fix me a warning look. “We’ve been waiting for you, Valentina.” Swallowing the bile in my throat, I kept my head bowed, and forced my feet into action, slipping into the empty seat bes

Talia“The priest is here,” my father announced, saving me from answering Ares’ strange question. Was he asking because he remembered how Val’s hair looked… or because of mine? Either way, I hadn’t been expecting it, and my nerves began to quiet, settling into something cautiously hopeful. Maybe Val and I really did look alike. More than I’d given myself credit for.Only Father, Cesare, Ares, and I proceeded into Father's office. Our fathers would serve as witnesses to this union. I could feel Ares at my back, close enough that the heat of his gaze burned between my shoulder blades.The door shut quietly behind me and the reality of everything set in. I would leave this room bound to a man I did not love for life. In our world, there was no such thing as divorce. Only death would be my escape. I wanted to be mad at Val for putting me in this position, but it was drowned out by a deep, gnawing fear. Whatever had made her run must be far worse than the nightmare I was walking into. Fath

Ares.Fucking archaic tradition.The door opened, and my wife stepped in, draped in a white robe that did its best to conceal every curve I knew was there. Still… she was breathtaking, and every step she took made it painfully obvious, though her hair—God, that hair—was the first thing my brain went to.My fist clenched. I hated that color. Did Pietro think I was too blind, too stupid, to notice that the woman I’d married wasn’t the same one I’d met a year ago, just because she’d dyed her hair?Talia Russo. Second daughter. Twenty-three years old… seven years younger than me and far too perceptive for her own good. I knew more about her than was appropriate. Her academic record—first class political science graduate with a published paper dissecting power dynamics in closed systems. Her habits. The way she bit the inside of her cheek when she was thinking, down to the exact shade of nude-pink nail polish she favoured.Obsessing over the sister of the woman I was supposed to marry was

Talia My stomach dipped as the plane lifted, and I squeezed my eyes shut, a quiet prayer slipping past my lips before I could stop myself. “First time?” I startled slightly, suddenly realizing I’d forgotten Selene was seated beside me. Turning slightly, I met her calm, assessing gaze. “Yeah,” I admitted. She smiled, and adjusted her seat to angle more toward me. “It’s normal to be nervous,” she said softly. “I’ve flown plenty of times, but the first few minutes of takeoff still make me feel like my stomach is trying to escape. Here’s a trick: take a slow, deep breath. And keep talking.” “Talking?” I echoed, unsure if I could even manage the words. “Yes,” she said, smiling warmly. “About anything. About your favourite city, book, movie, whatever. We can even talk about Ares. I promise I won't snitch.” She nudged me lightly with her elbow, wiggling her brows playfully. The tightness in my stomach loosened just enough to let me notice the view outside the window behind her. In