Page 5 of Savage Mafia King

“Obey you?” Her voice is incredulous, but there’s a faint recognition in her eyes. Her father must have prepped her at least a little for this.

“Yes,” I say, voice hard as iron. “In our world, obedience isn’t a choice. It’s survival.”

She swallows, nodding as if finally grasping the reality of her situation. “Right. Father told us about this. ‘Love, honor, and obey.’”

“Exactly.” I lean back, watching the cogs turn in her mind. She thinks she has a choice, but every path leads to me. “But I don’t love you,” she whispers, then quickly adds, “I don’t mean it like that...I just don’t know you. How can I love you if I don’t know anything about you?”

I shrug, indifferent. “You know I can protect you and your sister, provide a life you won’t have without me. The rest will come later.”

“It will?” Her voice is so small, so desperate.

“Yes. All you have to do is accept.”

There’s a beat of silence, and then she sighs. “I accept.”

A dark satisfaction coils through me. She’s mine now. She may not realize the full weight of what she’s agreed to, but soon she will. “Good. Now go find your sister in the stables. I’ll take care of the rest.”

As she slips on her shoes and leaves the room, I pull out my phone and start making the necessary calls. The wedding will happen within days. I don’t need a grand spectacle—this is business, not romance. I instruct the staff to start preparations and call Enzo. He’ll bring his wife, Sophia, and his brothers. They’re the only family I need at this sham of a ceremony. My parents are long gone, and frankly, I don’t care for a crowd.

By Saturday, it’s done. The ceremony is quick, efficient. Enzo’s wife takes care of the dresses, and Sophia helps Elena and Marie. I watch as Elena walks down the aisle with Enzo. She looks like a doll, dressed in white, her face a mask of forced calm. She smiles for the cameras, plays her role. But I can see the terror lurking beneath her eyes. That fear will serve me well.

The dinner afterward is modest, nothing grandiose. Elena sits stiffly, smiling when necessary, but the look in her eyes tells me she’s far from okay. Wedding night jitters, I assume. But soon, she’ll learn her new place. She’ll learn to accept her role as my wife, my possession.

I make a short toast and take her by the hand, leading her to our bedroom. Her steps are tentative, slow. I can feel her tension, the fear radiating off her. Good. Fear keeps people in line. Fear keeps them obedient.

As we reach the room, I let my eyes roam over her. The dress clings to her, teasing me with what’s underneath. My blood thrums with anticipation, my need to claim what’s mine nearly overwhelming. But when she sits on the edge of the bed, her head down, trembling...it gives me pause. She’s not just nervous. She’s terrified.

“It's okay, Elena,” I murmur, trying to soften my tone. “I’m not going to hurt you. You’re my wife now. I promised to protect you.”

She nods, but tears pool in her eyes. One spills onto her dress.

Damn it. I didn’t sign up for this. “Shhh, tell me what’s wrong, my princess.”

She takes a shuddering breath. “I always thought my father would walk me down the aisle. Now I’m married, and I walked down that aisle with a stranger.”

Her words stab at something in me, something buried deep beneath the layers of violence and control. “Enzo is an important man. Your father would have been honored to see you with him.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.” I pull her close, wiping away a tear with my thumb. “Now, let me take care of you. I’m your Daddy. You’re my princess. It’s my job to make you feel good. And it’s your job to let go and do as I say.”

She swallows hard, her breath hitching. “Okay.”

“You answer, ‘Yes, Daddy,’ in this room, Elena.”

Her voice is soft, trembling, but obedient. “Yes, Daddy.”

Finally. Now she’s starting to understand.

5

Elena

It’s my wedding night, and I’m sobbing into the chest of a man who is now my husband. He must think I’m pathetic. This powerful, terrifying man agreed to marry me and protect Marie, but I know the truth. He didn’t do it out of kindness or mercy—he did it for a reason. A wife isn’t just someone to protect. She’s an obligation, a possession, something to be claimed.

My tears feel ridiculous now, like I’m betraying the very deal I made with him. He didn’t marry me to coddle me. He married me toownme, and here I am, a mess of emotions, incapable of offering anything in return. I’m supposed to be his wife, hisproperty, and tonight… I’m supposed to fulfill my end of the bargain.

When Dimitri stands and moves away, my heart tightens in my chest. He’d told me to respond to him with “Yes, Daddy,” and I had—hesitantly, but I had. The words felt foreign on my tongue, but his control, the power he radiated, left me with no other choice. As soon as the words left my lips, though, doubt crept in. What happens now?

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