All Chapters of Married To Danger: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

ADRIANAll evening, I found myself watching Valentina from the corner of my eye. She tried to smile and play her part, but her body betrayed her. During our first dance, she’d trembled like a leaf in my hands, and the memory of it lingered with me now, coiled tight in the back of my mind. That reaction didn’t bode well for what awaited us tonight.Later, after finishing a dance with my father, she slipped out of the ballroom in a rush, her dress sweeping behind her like she was fleeing the scene. My father noticed too. He took his cane from one of his men and made his way over to me. His expression was unreadable.“Would you excuse us for a moment, Rico?” Father asked politely.Rico arched a brow but didn’t press. “I’ll dance with Isla.” With a curt nod, he crossed the room toward his wife, leaving Father and me standing together.I turned toward him and asked in a clipped tone. “What’s the matter?”Father leaned a little on his cane. His gaze followed the same path mine had taken mom

VALENTINAI stared at the knife in Adrian’s hand, and my stomach tightened, but I forced myself not to flinch. Instead, I gave a small nod and turned around, brushing my hair over one shoulder so it wouldn’t get in the way. The cool air of the room touched the back of my neck where the lace clung to my skin.I stood there with my heart pounding in my chest, waiting. The blade hadn’t even touched me yet, but the awareness of it was enough to send a shiver down my spine.My throat felt exposed and vulnerable. I thought of how easily he could lean down and press his mouth against my skin, and leave a mark that would tell everyone I belonged to him. The thought made my pulse race faster— not only from fear, but something else I didn’t want to name.It struck me then how strange it was that, before tonight, I had imagined what it might be like if he showed mercy, if somehow he decided he didn’t want me after all. But now, standing here as his wife, that idea seemed impossible— almost laugh

She sniffed once, then shook her head. “I won’t cry.” Then she tilted her chin, peering up at me. “Why do you even care? You’ve seen worse than someone crying.”And she wasn’t wrong. I had seen worse. I’d caused worse. Torture, blood, begging men— hell, I’d stepped over corpses without blinking. And yet here, with this trembling young woman looking at me like I held her whole future in my hands, it was different. Valentina was young…too young. She was my wife now, bound to me by tradition, by vows, by expectations. She was supposed to be the woman who would raise my children. And she was sitting here in front of me, bracing herself for something she clearly didn’t feel ready for.Fuck. What a mess.Her gaze shifted away from me, like she was staring at something only she could see, lost in a place I couldn’t follow. I didn’t like it. I wanted her here with me, not retreating into her head where fear could multiply.“Valentina,” I murmured, and the sound of her name pulled her back. Sh

“Do you take the pill?” I asked. It came out rougher than I intended, more like a demand than a question. It was hardly the kind of romantic words a husband should say to his new bride, but it was something I’d avoided asking all day, and it couldn’t wait any longer.Valentina gave a quick nod, and her cheeks flushed pink as though the acknowledgment itself embarrassed her.Relief pricked at me. I shifted over her, settling my weight carefully as I guided myself between her thighs. My cock pressed against her opening, but the moment she felt me there, she flinched, shrinking back against the pillows.Frustration surged hot in my chest. My body screamed to push forward while my mind snapped at me to slow the fuck down. I gritted my teeth, swallowing back the urge to snap. “Valentina,” I said, trying to catch her eyes. There was more pleading in my voice than I liked.Her wide eyes met mine. “Can you… hold me?”My heart skipped a beat. She didn’t ask me to stop, she didn’t beg me not

When Adrian finally came out of the bathroom, ten minutes later, he was barefoot and wearing only a pair of black pajama pants that rode low on his hips. My eyes betrayed me, trailing over him before I could stop myself. He wasn’t like other men I knew. Many of them, after marriage, let themselves gain weight. But Adrian hadn’t softened at all. His chest and arms were carved muscle, his abdomen was taut, his presence radiated strength and control. There was nothing gentle about him, not in his body, not in his expression, not even in those sharp stormy eyes.If he noticed me staring, he didn’t mention it. He simply crossed to the bed, pulled back the covers, and lay down beside me. He left a wide strip of space between us, enough room for another person to fit comfortably in the middle.A pang tightened in my chest. Was that how it was going to be? I had imagined marriage differently— softer and warmer. I had imagined closeness, the kind I’d only ever seen from afar.Snuggling. The wo