All Chapters of The Mafia's Forced Bride: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

(Aria’s Point of View)The water was still dripping from my hair, freezing against my skin, but the sight of Silvio Moretti turned my blood to solid ice.We had survived a mountain falling on our heads, crawled through a pipe of liquid shadows. But here, at the mouth of the cave, the devil was waiting to collect his due. Silvio stood like a predator in the moonlight, his silver hair gleaming and his eyes devoid of anything resembling human mercy. He held Elena so tightly against him that her feet barely touched the jagged stones. The blade of his knife was pressed deep into the soft skin of her throat."Let her go, Silvio," Dante said. He stepped in front of me, his body a wall of trembling muscle and wet silk. He was unarmed. His gun had been lost in the tunnel but his hands were curled into claws. "This isn't about her. It’s about me. Take me and let her walk."Silvio laughed, the sound echoing off the wet cave walls like the bark of a hyena. "You always were too sentimental, Dante.

(Aria’s Point of View)The distant hum of the Moretti Council ships faded into a dull, white noise. I stared at Dante, my eyes searching his face for a sign that this was a joke. A cruel, twisted test of my loyalty.But there was no laughter in his gray eyes. There was only a vast, freezing distance."What did you just say?" My voice was so thin it was nearly swallowed by the salt spray.Dante stood up slowly, his movements robotic. The velvet box sat on the wet deck between us, a mocking splash of red against the gray wood. "The HCG levels, Aria. The doctors at the estate are the best in the country. They don't make mistakes with dates. According to the labs, you are nearly eight weeks pregnant."He stepped back, his hands curling into fists at his sides. "Eight weeks. We met at the wedding three weeks ago. We shared a bed for the first time four nights ago. The math doesn't work, Aria. Not unless you were carrying another man’s child while you were begging me to save you."I felt th

( Aria's Point of View )The bullet never touched me.One second, I was sitting in the inflatable raft, watching Isabella's silhouette on the burning ship as she lined up her shot. The next second, a hand; cold, impossibly strong, clamped around my ankle and yanked me into the black water.I didn't even have time to scream.The ocean swallowed me whole. The cold was a physical assault, stealing the air from my lungs and turning my limbs to lead. I kicked wildly, my hands clawing at the darkness, but the grip on my ankle was like iron. I was being dragged down, down into the crushing depths.My vision blurred. The instinct to open my mouth and gulp in water was overwhelming.Then, just as suddenly as it had pulled me under, the hand released me.I kicked upward, my arms pumping with desperate, frantic strokes. My head broke the surface, and I gasped, sucking in air so fast it burned my throat. I spun around, treading water, searching for the hand, the monster, the thing that had saved

( Aria's Point of View )The chamber fell into a silence so complete I could hear the drip of water echoing from somewhere deep in the stone. The Architect stood frozen, his hand still hovering over the detonator, but the confidence that had radiated from him moments ago had evaporated like steam.On the screen, the Matriarch stood motionless on the deck of her warship, the wind barely moving her white hair. She looked like a statue carved from ice and fury. Behind her, I could see rows of soldiers in black tactical gear, and beyond them, the barrels of naval guns pointed directly at the mountain."Matriarch Giuliana," the Architect said, forcing his voice to steady. "This is a neutral zone. The Ark has been recognized by the old families since.""I don't care about your treaties," Giuliana interrupted, her voice cutting through his words like a blade. "You have taken something that belongs to the Moretti bloodline. That makes you an enemy. And I have spent sixty years teaching enemie

( Aria's Point of View )The gunshot was deafening in the enclosed space of the chapel, the sound reverberating off the stone walls like the voice of God himself. I waited for the pain, for the burning sensation of a bullet tearing through flesh. But it never came.Instead, I heard a body hit the floor.I opened my eyes. When had I closed them? And saw Dante on the ground, clutching his shoulder. Blood was already seeping through his fingers, dark and viscous in the candlelight."Dante!" I screamed, dropping to my knees beside him.Isabella stood over us, her gun still smoking. But she wasn't smiling anymore. Her face had gone pale, her eyes wide with shock. "I wasn't aiming for you," she whispered, looking at Dante. "I was aiming for her."Dante had thrown himself in front of me. He had taken the bullet meant for my head."You idiot," I sobbed, pressing my hands against his wound. The blood was hot and slick, pouring between my fingers no matter how hard I pressed. "You stupid, reckl