The Mafia Devil’s Contractual Wife Novels & Stories

I wasn’t marrying a prince. I was marrying the devil.

But for what? " Mrs. Zara Wali you want to say that you didn't plan these fake pictures." " No, I didn't" I answered confidently glaring at that lawyer. " Okay, so you mean to say that you were not ashamed after marriage to accept my client as your husband? " Mr. Aman exaggerated. " no."

"Oh, Georgina, you married a mafia man. They will force you, but you have to give in. It’s better to just give into what they want-” “What? No! He didn't force me. It was consensual—whatever happened," I explain, trying to comprehend his point. "Okay, good. So he was pleased and not upset, right? Good, we need to make sure that he is always happy with us," he says, holding my hand again, and I feel sick to my stomach. Quickly, I get up from the couch, maintaining distance, trying to understand what is happening in front of my eyes. This has to be a dream.

His eyes hardened, “That's where you're wrong. I have every reason to interfere. Don't forget, you’re my wife.” “And you to forget this is nothing more than a contract agreement. That’s all there is to it,” I retorted. A muscle twitched in his jaw, “Contracted or not… I own you, and I’ll never let anything happen to what is mine.” Irritation bubbled inside me, and I’m sure my face didn’t hide it, “I’m not an asset, Adonis, and I’m pretty sure I can handle myself.” “You weren’t doing a good job at that last night.”

“You’ll be fine. Just remember: if it hurts, close your eyes and pretend it’s not you, and that you’re not there. Works like a charm.” Lucia clucked her tongue in disapproval, but didn’t correct her. “Oh,” Bianca added with a wink, “and moan. Loudly. They like that.” I burst out laughing despite myself, hiding my face in my hands. A knock at the door interrupted us. A voice from the hallway: “It’s time.” My breath caught. Lucia straightened her shoulders. “You’re ready, tesoro.” Bianca stood, smoothing her dress. “Come on, let’s get you married to the Devil.”

"I'm not yet done with you. Why are you leaving? You don't want to hear the truth? That Alas is regretting buying himself a whore and making it his wife?" I gnashed my teeth and fisted my fingers. "Let's say that you're a good fuck. Except that, what else can you bring to the table? Nothing, right? Alas is a Czar, he has an organization to protect. He needs a wife, a Czarina that comes from a powerful family who could protect and strengthen him too, obviously, that's not you!" Aria taunted and pushed her finger against my head, unlike our first encounter. I couldn't find the strength to fight back.

As a wife she misses his presence but truth to be told she was nothing but a contract wife for him. Yes, their marriage was just a contract because as per the rules he had to prove himself responsible and worthy for the position of the mafia boss on which he was, today but it happened only when he married her because that was the main condition that he should have a woman, his partner by his side. While she was a daughter of a normal middle class family so all he had to do was throw money in front of her parents and as assumed they agreed instantly seeing so much money in front of their poor dime.

That was how they ensured we wouldn’t get involved in the Famiglia’s business, that we would behave as perfect, submissive wives, raising more obedient women. But ever since I met Marco Falcone, something urged me to ask the questions that had been in my head all these years. For the first time, I didn’t feel forced to keep my thoughts to myself. He challenged me, even with his gaze, and his words wouldn’t leave my mind: *You could be the She-Devil of the Camorra by my side.* Those words carried so much weight. I knew exactly what “by his side” meant—I’d have to marry Marco; it was the only way. And as much as I knew my father would hate it, I couldn’t help but like the idea of becoming some

"You signed a contract. You married me. But you're terrified of what happens next." Isabella's throat tightened. "Wouldn't you be? I'm in bed with a man who kills people for a living." "I don't kill for a living. I run a business empire. Sometimes that business requires... difficult decisions." Dante's eyes never left hers. "But I've never hurt a woman. Never forced myself on anyone. And I'm not going to start with my wife." "Your contract wife." "My wife," he corrected firmly. "The contract makes it legal. The ring on your finger makes it real. For the next twelve months, Isabella, you are mine in every way that matters."