All Chapters of The Mafia billionaire's Revenge Bride : Chapter 1 - Chapter 9

Chapter 1RiyaAnother letter.Of course it had to come today.The bank had already called three times. The landlord’s notice was still taped to the front door like some kind of bad joke. Dad could barely get a full breath without that oxygen machine hissing in the next room.And now this thick cream envelope was sitting on the kitchen counter, staring at me.I didn’t open it right away.I just stood there in the narrow hallway of our Queens apartment, arms crossed, staring at the damn thing like it might grow teeth.My stomach already knew.Whatever was inside wasn’t good news.It never was anymore.When I finally tore it open, the numbers hit me harder than the words.Seven million.Not seven hundred thousand.Not one million.Seven fucking million dollars.That was what we still owed the Rajvansh Group.Dad had borrowed it five years ago. Quietly. Desperately. He'd been trying to keep Kapoor Imports from drowning.Five years of interest and penalties had turned that loan into a fuc

Chapter 3**Riya**The reply came in under four minutes.I was still sitting in the same chair, staring at the sent confirmation like it might reverse itself if I looked hard enough, when my phone lit up again.**Aryan Rajvansh.**Not his lawyer.Him.I almost didn’t open it.Almost.*Be at the Tower at 10 a.m. tomorrow. Bring your father if he can travel. If not, I’ll send a car and a nurse. We sign the preliminary papers in person.*No greeting.No “thank you for accepting.”No softness.Just orders.I typed back before I could overthink it.*I’ll come alone. My father stays where he is.*The three dots appeared almost immediately.*Understood. Come alone then. Don’t be late.*I locked the phone and set it face-down on the table.My hands were steady now. That felt wrong. Like my body had already decided to treat this as normal.I stood up, walked to the sink, and drank water straight from the tap because the idea of reaching for a glass felt like too much effort. The apartment was

Chapter 5**Riya**I stayed in the suite until 7:40.Not because I was making a point. Because every time I thought about walking downstairs I felt the weight of the house pressing against my ribs. Thick walls. Quiet corridors. Restricted floors. A text that still sat on my phone like a threat I couldn’t block.*No joke. Sleep light.*I had checked the number three more times. Nothing. No reverse lookup. No social media trail. Just a dead end and that single reply.At 7:45 I forced myself into the shower. The water pressure was perfect. The towels were thicker than any I had ever owned. I hated how easily my body accepted the luxury while my mind stayed braced for the next blow.I ignored the new clothes in the closet and put on one of my own dresses. Black. Simple. The same one I had worn to the Tower. It felt like the last piece of my old life I still controlled.At 7:58 I left the suite.The hallway was empty. The lights were low and warm. Somewhere below, soft classical music play

Chapter 7RiyaMonday arrived with a knock at 1:00 p.m. sharp.Mrs. D’Souza stood in the hallway with a woman I had never seen before. Mid-thirties. Sharp bob. Black clothes that looked like they cost more than my old rent. She carried two large garment bags and a tablet.“This is Isabel,” Mrs. D’Souza said. “She’ll handle the fittings for tomorrow evening.”Isabel stepped inside without waiting for an invitation and started unpacking like she owned the suite.I stayed by the window.“I already have clothes.”Isabel didn’t look up. “You have clothes. You don’t have the right clothes for a Rajvansh dinner. There’s a difference.”She held up a floor-length black gown. Simple on the hanger. Dangerous once it caught the light.“This one first.”I hated that it was beautiful.I hated even more that it fit like it had been made for me.Isabel worked fast. Pins. Adjustments. Quiet comments about posture and hem length. She never asked what I wanted. She only asked what Mr. Rajvansh preferred

**Chapter 9** **Riya**I didn’t sleep.The gown lay discarded on the chair like shed skin. I sat on the edge of the bed in the dark silk robe Isabel had left folded in the closet, knees drawn up, phone face-down on the nightstand as if distance could make the words less real.*You wear the dress well. Does he know someone in this room wants you gone?*Every time I closed my eyes I saw the long table, the ice-blonde woman’s polite smile, the way Aryan’s hand had tightened over mine until the bones ached. Someone had been close enough to watch me wear the dress. Close enough to enjoy the fact that I would read those words while still seated beside him.A soft knock came at 6:12 a.m.I didn’t answer. The door opened anyway.Aryan stepped inside already dressed—black shirt, sleeves rolled once, the same heavy watch. He looked like he had never needed sleep in his life. His gaze moved over the untouched bed, the gown, me.“You didn’t sleep.”“Neither did you.”He closed the door and stay