Page 35 of Dark Mafia Bride

As a kid, this was what I imagined heaven to look like.

Whoever my husband is, he’s fuckingloaded.

“We’ll take you to your room, then give you a tour if you’d like…” Paula’s voice filters through as I gawk at the opulent surroundings. Damn. The ceiling alone is a work of art, towering and intricately designed.

Through an open door across the room, I look into what seems to be a smaller visitors room. However, what catchesmy eyes are the two middle-aged women I see there. They’re beautiful, dressed in tailored designer outfits, directing the staff as they arrange a lavish floral display. My heart skips when one of them looks my way, her gaze sharp as she takes me in from across the room.

“Paula, come here,” she calls, her tone commanding.

I notice the way Paula stiffens slightly before turning, and I immediately realize that the women must be part of my husband’s family—my soon-to-be family.

“Take her upstairs,” she murmurs before heading toward the women, and I don’t miss the way they watch me with a hint of…disdain. They don’t like me.

“Right this way, ma’am,” Clara mutters, guiding me to a grand staircase.

I shake off the nerves and follow her to the second floor, where she leads me into what I realize ismyroom. My breath catches as I step inside. A massive queen-sized bed covered in plush velvet sits in the center, while floor-to-ceiling windows overlook a garden that stretches into the distance. The en suite bathroom looks like something out of a magazine, practically a spa in itself, complete with a marble tub and I imagine taking a long, hot bath here.

When I return from gawking at the bathroom, Clara smiles warmly. “I’m here to help with anything you need, ma’am. Your bridal treatments will begin at noon,” she says.

Bridal treatments.That’swhy they hauled me here so early.

“Sure.” I nod absently, barely absorbing the details as she outlines the schedule of spa treatments, fittings, and other rituals planned to turn me into someone worthy of…well, whomever this man is.

Once Clara leaves, I sink onto the bed, catching my reflection in the floor-length mirror across the room. The girl staring back looks like a stranger, lost, adrift in a world that doesn’t feel real.

But there’s no time to settle in. I’m whisked away to the mansion’s private spa—yes, they have oneinside the house—where I’m pampered, steamed, and scrubbed until my skin practically glows. By the time I return to my room, I’m thoroughly exhausted.

Clara offers to bring dinner up, and I’m more than happy to accept. The food she serves isn’t like anything I’ve ever eaten before—a banquet of steak, baked pasta, and perfectly seasoned vegetables that make me wonder if I’ve been eating veggies wrong my whole life.

When I finally slip into bed later that night, the soft sheets practically swallow me, but sleep doesn’t come easily. I’m craving an escape from this new life. I let my mind wander and take me somewhere else.

Ettore.

His hands, his lips, the way he touched me, claimed me, made me feel…

I close my eyes and let the memory take me, desperate for a taste of the familiar in this strange, gilded cage.

My fingers trail down my stomach, a warmth spreading through my body as they reach my already wet folds. I let out a soft moan, slipping two fingers in, imagining it’s his thick fingers filling me up. My pussy clenches in need. I’ve been craving to feel something like this ever since that night.

I moan more fervently as my thumb circles my clit, flicking over the sensitive bud. I hear the sound of his grunts in my ear, feel the warmth and weight of his body pressed on me, hear his guttural voice as he calls me his Kitten.

An orgasm hits me hard and fast, shocking me. I’ve never been able to bring myself to such pleasure with my fingers before. I’m panting by the time I come down from my high. And when everything slows down together with my raging heartbeat,I’m left with a nagging feeling that grips me even worse than it did before.

I’m in a strange room, in the mansion of a stranger, feeling the walls close in around me. Every polished surface, every gleaming fixture in this house of unimaginable wealth is a reminder of what I’ve committed to, and how trapped I already feel. I can’t do this.

It feels ridiculous to be having second thoughts when I only signed the contract yesterday. But there’s this heavy knot in my stomach that I can’t ignore, a voice urging me to run. It’s telling me that staying here will only pull me further into something from which I may not be able to escape. I can’t shake the thought: If this feeling doesn’t go away, I may have to do something drastic. Escape. Even if it means running away on the morning of my own wedding.

I close my eyes, trying to will myself into sleep, hoping that some rest will quiet the storm in my mind. But then, like a dark whisper in the silence, Abruzzi’s words echo in my head.

I’ve signed a deal with the devil.

12

ETTORE

“Your wife is all settled in, sir,” Luca announces the moment he steps into my office.

My wife.The phrase stirs something inside me, something I’ve been trying to keep down since the moment I made this decision. She isn’t my wife…yet, but I nod, keeping my face unreadable while my mind races.

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