Novel & Cerita A Bride For The Mafia Lord

My voice trembles with emotion, and I feel broken and hopeless. Nikolai’s response only angers me further. “I think they do. You are very important. You are an 18-year-old New York mafia princess and a virgin, well, supposed virgin, who is supposed to marry one of the Outfit’s bosses – Mario Alfonso, in an arranged marriage to keep the peace between the Outfit and New York. The Outfit wouldn’t have arranged a marriage if you weren’t important. A young bride’s virginity is paramount to the groom in an arranged marriage. What better way to take revenge on Mario Alfonso than to take his young bride’s virginity?” he says, and I spin around to face him, my fists clenched at my sides.

"No one will dare to look at my wife funny.you are supposed to go out with them anyways.people will look at you funny if you are seen without bodyguards.bad people will target you.you are the wife of a mafia boss.it Is for your own safety,mia Moglie " "I will like to finish college then".I blurted out.pushing my food aside to face him...I didn't even know I wanted that until I uttered it out loud now. "I haven't been able to attend college because I couldn't afford it, but I had plans of going".I continued."now that you kidnapped me and forced me to marry you.i still want to experience that life.i want to have friends and go to parties and live like a normal girl too". "No parties".he scowls

“Anya, I am not here to talk about the past, I have come to get my bride.” “I am not your bride.” I retorted, anger in my eyes. “You will be.” He replied coldly, and then he turned around and walked back into the party. “I said I am not going to marry you!” I yelled at him but he didn’t turn back or spare me another glance. Finally the tears flowed down my cheeks, my heart heavy. I was filled with pain and hatred and all I wanted was to run away. But even that wasn’t an option. I could never run away from my father or the Bratva. I was betrothed to a high ranking member of the fucking Russian Mafia, they would find me anywhere in the world.

Whatever this man is doing, it's meant to provoke me. According to the clan's law, when a new bride is welcomed by the mafia Don, they expect to glimpse her sensually. They think she's just a commodity, assuming she’s part of a contract marriage. "What?" he says sarcastically. "You’re not marrying her for love. Rules are rules." "Whatever the rules are, I don’t care. What’s mine is mine, and I don’t share. She’s no slut. She’s just mine." I angrily hit the table as I feel a surge of anger boiling inside me.

Except me. His gaze snapped back to the bed, his breathing coming in heavy, fast gasps. His eyes raked over my shaking body, stopping at my smeared makeup and the ruined wedding dress peeking out from under the blanket. The confusion on his face quickly curdled into deep disgust. "N-no..." I stammered, my teeth literally clicking together in the quiet room. "I'm... I'm not a thief. I'm not a maid. I'm…." "Shut up," he snapped, cutting me off with a cold, vicious glare that froze the blood in my veins.

Just nods and leaves as silently as she came. Trisha leans forward, grinning. “Okay, so I need all the deets.” “There’s nothing to tell,” I say, keeping my voice light. “It was an alliance. Arranged. No meet-cute.” “You’re no fun,” she groans. “So this is what dirty money gets you?” She gestures at the room, joking. I glance at Dante’s men. Their faces are stone. Trisha doesn’t notice. “Honestly, where do I sign up for the mafia? This dirty money business is starting to sound interesting.”

The Mafia Lord. The man who had destroyed countless families without blinking, who carved his empire from fear and corpses. And now… my captor. He lifted his gaze, locking on mine, and for a moment, the entire world stopped. “Bring her here,” he said, voice deep, controlled, and laced with arrogance that made it sound like an order from God Himself. My body went cold. “No! You can’t do this!” I screamed, kicking, struggling. My voice cracked, raw with terror. “Why me? I don’t even know you!”

His gaze swept over Lina and Giovanni: cold and lethal. Bang! Rafael kicked the massive banquet table over. Silverware and wine crashed to the floor. The enormous Rossi family crest, custom-made and unmistakable, lay face-up. Rafael placed his foot on it. The metal buckled beneath his heel with a sickening screech. In the mafia world, this was the ultimate humiliation. The other dons went pale, but not a single one dared speak. He crouched in front of me. The moment his eyes took in my swollen, bleeding cheek and my shattered, blood-soaked fingers… The blue of his irises turned blood-red.

I had seen times without number, when his name would be written in the news, displaying the gory violence caused by him, the feared mafia king with no face to his name. His reputation was already brutal enough for me to even think of doubting my father’s words. And for that, the anger I felt for Alecia simmered down, diluted a bit with understanding. No one would want to marry a criminal man, most definitely in his late fifties with residing hairline and pot like belly. Yet, here I, listening to my father as he suggested I do so. “Papa,” I began, hesitantly so. “You know I can’t do that…I have a Fiance, we’ve-“