Novel & Cerita The Mafia Devil’s Contractual Wife

a deep voice commands. I turn. He walks in like he owns the place. Broad shoulders under a tailored black suit, dark eyes that slice through the chaos. His presence is heavier than the gunfire. Dante Morreti. I know that name. Whispers. Mafia. Blood. Power. The devil of New York. His gaze pins me in place. My chest tightens, breath shallow. “She’s the bride?” he asks, almost amused. “Yes, Boss,” one of his men answers. “Pretty little thing,” Dante murmurs, eyes raking me head to toe. “Shame she belongs to a coward.”

As she disappeared into the crowd, Conrad stood frozen, cheek flushed, heart raging. The light danced across the Phoenix pendant on her neck—like a warning. Behind that graceful smile, she carried a secret only a few could survive: She was the wife of one of Italy’s most feared Mafia bosses. The crowd swallowed her again. As soon as she was out of sight, Conrad’s hand slipped into his pocket. He pulled out his phone and dialed a number. His chest rose and fell with fury. The call connected. “I accept the offer,” he said coldly.

She looked like the trophy wife she was supposed to be. Donato was gone again. Probably deep between one of his mistress's legs somewhere in the city, fucking his favorite mistress while his wife waited at home like a good little ornament. Serena’s fingers trailed slowly down her body, brushing over her breasts, then lower, teasing the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. She was already wet. The constant tension in this house was driving her insane. The sound of the front door opening made her freeze. Heavy footsteps echoed through the hallway. Then Damien appeared in the doorway.

Olivia asked looking at the men. “The one on the left, I think the guy with him is his assistant, he calls him Sir,” “So, what? Did you agree?” “No, of course not, he said he'll pay me for it, but I'm just not comfortable with the idea, he said it's going to be a contract marriage and he'll pay me handsomely for it, I need money but I'm just scared of being someone's pretend wife, what if I catch feelings along the way, and since it's a contract I don't think it's nice for us to be intimate since we will separate in the end ”

"You didn't make another deal with Lorenzo because of your date, did you?" "No. No more deals with the devil. Never, ever. I'm not that crazy; have some faith in me." I huffed and rolled my eyes. "But I did get sort of involved with another mafia group." "You did what?!" She gasped, and I winced.

“He’s ruthless, lethal and really, really powerful. When he came into the hideout where the kidnappers had taken Ethan and I to, they had instantly dropped to their knees, that’s how much he’s feared by people.” My skin crawled as I listened to my parents talk about how dangerous the person I was going married off to was, as the hair stylist did my hair up in my bedroom. I was already dressed up in my wedding dress, and my makeup had already been done to perfection by professionals. “He’s the most powerful mafia Don ever to walk the earth. Every other mafia here in Italy knows he has the final say.” Dad continued and I felt fear clog my throat once again. “And you’re getting me married off t

Bella I married for money and not for love. I dumped the fact that there may be people who care about me, and there were those who faked it. While the wedding certificates were being signed by my contract husband, I lived in the delusional state that this was not a contract, it was real. Mr. Blackwood will definitely not frame that contract, and Valerie? She can't do more than give me a dead stare from her seat. Moving around to get to a better position to have my signatures on the marriage certificate made me feel nauseous.

Close enough to wonder what kind of man carried that story for two years and still got up in the morning looking like stone. “Who took her?” she whispered. His eyes returned to hers. “I don’t know.” The bedroom door unlocked behind them. Slowly. Mrs Vale gasped. Adrian moved instantly, pulling Elena behind him again, but not before she saw the door open by inches. A man’s voice came from the hallway, old and cold and pleased. “Send in the contract wife.”

“No? Then what do you call it when a man traps a woman in a life she never wanted?” I sucked in a breath. “He put a ring on your finger,” Thomas continued, his voice like silk, smooth and unyielding. “Called you his wife. Made sure you could never leave.” His fingers tightened, not enough to hurt, but enough to make sure I was listening. “The only difference is that he did it with a contract and a ceremony. I just cut out the unnecessary parts.”

In all the years of being together, Proserpina had amazed him wither talents. He heard the murmurs of a couple of women behind him. “…still looks so young,” one of them was saying. A second woman spoke enviously,” I hear she’s wed to a Mafia man, a DON!” He stayed still. “…is it true that she has TEN children?” another rather rude voice, another woman, piped up. Lucien Delano had had enough. “Yes ladies, “ he snarled, turning to glare at them coldly, “That’s my wife and I am her Mafia Don, one of the most brutal. “