Page 1 of Mafia Shade's Reluctant Bride
CHAPTER ONE
MARIA
“I knew I was doomed from the beginning,” I wailed, my hands shivering as I slowly lowered my head, “but not this doomed.”
The two pink lines stared back at me, bold and unmistakable.
Positive.
“I was fucked. Really, really fucked.”
My hands trembled as I set the pregnancy test down on the sink. The bathroom light flickered slightly, like it was, too, judging my life choices. My heart pounded so hard it felt like it was trying to break free from my chest.
I closed my eyes, but that was a mistake because the moment I did, I was back there, back to that night.
The club had been electric, pulsing with the kind of energy that made you feel alive. The underground party was invite-only, the type of place you got into if you knew the right people or had the right amount of money. Being there was an act of rebellion after having a heated argument with my father, who was trying to marry me off to some Arabian prince. My father had called me stubborn. But does wanting to marry for love equate to stubbornness?
Going here felt right. At least, it did then.
It was a place where identities blurred, and rules were damned, drowned beneath the sound of music and the burn of alcohol. It was reckless and addictive. A place where people came to lose themselves.
I had lost myself because the moment I saw him, everything else ceased to exist. He was impossible to ignore.
The neon lights hovered over his frame, but I still saw him—broad shoulders, a strong jawline barely visible beneath the black mask covering half his face. He leaned against the bar, fingers wrapped around a glass of dark liquor, the picture of effortless confidence.
And he was watching me in an intoxicating, enthralling, spellbinding, and arousing manner. I had never been stared at like that in my entire life, and I even had on a mask. He wasn’t just gazing. He was studying, savoring, and taking me in with every breath that escaped his lungs. It was riveting to say the least.
Heat curled in my stomach, not subtle or hesitant, but possessive.
The space between us shrunk. Something unseen pulled us closer before we even moved. My pulse thrummed in a way that had nothing to do with the bass vibrating beneath my feet.
I tilted my head and held his gaze. He held mine, too, in an unyielding, silent challenge.
His lips quirked into a smirk.
Cocky.
Of course, he was. He was the kind of man women lost themselves to—the kind I had promised myself I’d never fall for. He was the kind my mom had warned me against about a decade ago before she died. He was the kind I had once had an enormous crush on, but he only saw me as his best friend’s sister.
Yet, when he took a slow sip of his drink, watching me over the rim, my mouth went dry.
I should have turned away. Instead, I lifted my own drink to my lips and took a sip, letting my tongue flick over the rim of my glass. His piercing gray eyes darkened, almost like I had stirred up a fire inside of him. He pushed off the bar.
I stopped breathing.
He closed the distance. The scent of whiskey, spice, and something distinctly masculine surrounded me before he even spoke.
“You don’t look like you belong here.” His deep, smooth voice cut through me, hitting me like a tidal wave threatening to ground me in its wake.
I arched my brow. “What does someone who belongs here look like?” My voice sounded more composed and confident than I felt.
A low chuckle, rich and knowing, slipped past his lips. I hated how much I liked the sound. His gaze flicked down briefly before meeting mine again, an almost imperceptible glance—so quick and smooth I wouldn’t have caught it if I weren’t already hyper-aware of him.
He was looking at my mouth.
I took another sip of my drink, forcing myself to appear unaffected. “Who is your mask inspiration?” I asked, staring at his dark mask. It seemed a bit familiar, but it was unlike anything I had ever seen before.
“You are the inspiration,” he responded, almost sounding rehearsed. “Your mask feels so random, like you didn’t plan to be here, and coming was almost a spur-in-the-moment kind of decision.”
