The Swapped Bride: His Unseen Queen

The Swapped Bride: His Unseen Queen

Marnie Nomura

5.0
Comment(s)
View
10
Chapters

I woke up gasping for air, expecting to feel the crushed ribs and shattered glass from the fatal car crash. Instead, I found myself in the cavernous bedroom of the Franco Estate in 1928 Chicago. In my past life, my stepmother forced me to marry a golden-boy politician, while throwing my stepsister Clara to Damien Franco, the ruthless mafia boss. But Clara became the Mafia Queen, and Damien destroyed my husband's career, leaving me to die in disgrace as a sacrificed pawn. This time, the script was flipped. My stepmother kept the "clean" politician for Clara and threw me to the monster. Just three days after my wedding, my family arrived at my new home. Not to comfort me, but to strip me of my late mother's trust fund. They rigged my assets, leaving me with toxic, gang-tied warehouses designed to bankrupt me and get me killed in an Irish mob turf war. "She's not a wife, she's collateral meant to absorb the mafia's bullets. She'll be dead within a year." Clara's mocking words reached my ears, confirming my darkest fears. I spent my entire last life bleeding my soul dry for their approval, only to be betrayed. I couldn't fathom how my own father and brothers could gleefully orchestrate my murder just to line their pockets. But they had no idea they had just handed me the keys to the underworld. I wasn't that naive girl anymore. I slammed the ledgers of their embezzlement onto the mahogany table, looked my arrogant brothers in the eye, and invoked the absolute, bloody laws of the Cosa Nostra to collect their debts. This time, I would tear their empire to the ground.

The Swapped Bride: His Unseen Queen Chapter 1 1

Isabella POV

I jolted upright, gasping for air. The heavy silk sheets of the Franco Estate clung to my fever-drenched skin. I pressed a trembling hand to my chest, expecting to feel the crushed ribs and shattered glass from the car crash.

Nothing. Only the steady, frantic beating of my own heart.

I looked around the cavernous, unfamiliar bedroom. The dark French furniture, the balcony overlooking the gray expanse of Lake Michigan. This wasn't Washington D.C. This was Chicago. 1928.

The fever had finally broken, leaving behind a flood of memories so vivid they tasted like blood and ash. A past life. A life where my stepmother, Catherine, had played God in the Rowland family parlor. In that life, she had handed me to Harrison Davies, the golden-boy politician, and thrown her own flesh and blood, Clara, to the wolves-to Damien Franco, the untamed heir of the Chicago Outfit.

I closed my eyes, the phantom flashbulbs of my grand wedding at Trinity Church blinding me. It had been a spectacle of champagne and lies. Clara's wedding, by contrast, had been a grim affair at the Cook County Courthouse, witnessed only by a judge on the payroll and stone-faced *Soldiers* reeking of cigar smoke and gunsmoke.

I had spent years bleeding my soul dry to build Harrison's empire, turning him into a senator. I thought I held power in Washington. But Clara had learned the truth: Washington was nothing but a den of whispering rats.

While I played the perfect political wife, Damien Franco had been fighting a bloody *Vendetta* against the Mendoza family in the narrow streets and speakeasies of the West Side. He spent his nights at The Green Mill with his mistresses, letting the city think he was a madman. But when he finally emerged victorious, he didn't just claim the title of *Don*-he crowned Clara his *Mafia Queen*.

And then, Damien had turned his sights on us. With a few untraceable ledgers and a whisper to the FBI, he dismantled Harrison's entire political career. He proved that the law was just a weapon for the strongest predator. My life had ended in disgrace and twisted metal, a pathetic pawn sacrificed on a board I didn't even know I was playing on.

I looked down at the heavy gold wedding band on my left hand.

This time, the script was flipped.

Catherine had decided to keep the "clean" politician for Clara and throw me to the monster. She thought she was condemning me to a living hell. She had no idea she had just handed me the keys to the only kingdom that mattered.

Damien Franco was a ruthless, cold-blooded killer who had barely looked at me since he slipped this ring on my finger. To him, I was a forced bargain, a shackle imposed by his family to legitimize their blood money.

Let him ignore me. I didn't need his affection. I needed his name.

I threw off the damp covers and walked toward the vanity mirror. The woman staring back at me was pale, but her eyes were no longer those of a naive girl desperate for her family's approval. They were the eyes of a survivor.

It had been three days since the wedding, and I had spent most of them burning in this feverish purgatory.

A soft knock at the door pulled me from my thoughts. It was Maria, one of the estate maids.

"Signora Franco"(Mrs. Franco), she murmured, her eyes downcast in that ingrained display of mafia deference. "Your brothers have arrived. They are waiting in the downstairs parlor."

A cold smile touched my lips. Sean, Liam, and Connor. Catherine's loyal lapdogs, coming under the guise of a family visit to inspect the damage, to gloat over my exile into the underworld.

"Tell them I will be down shortly," I said, my voice steady and devoid of the warmth I used to freely give them.

I turned to the wardrobe, selecting a dark, impeccably tailored silk dress. They expected to find a broken girl trembling in the devil's lair. I smoothed the fabric over my hips, stepping out of the cold bedroom and making my way toward the heavy oak doors of the downstairs parlor.

Continue Reading

Other books by Marnie Nomura

More
No Love, Only Ash

No Love, Only Ash

Romance

5.0

Ten years. A decade of my life, meticulously built into a future with Liam, complete with a secret I was about to reveal: two thin blue lines on a test stick. Then my phone buzzed, a live video from Chloe-his old muse, the ghost I could never banish. And there he was, leaning against his Mustang at an illegal street race, Chloe' s arm looped through his, her voice purring, "Look who I've got with me… He said he' d win this race for me." My carefully constructed world shattered, the beautiful dinner, the white rose, the secret blooming inside me, all felt like a cruel joke. Every therapy session, every late-night talk, every time I' d pulled him back from the brink, mocked by her triumphant smirk as she declared, "Some people just spend their lives cleaning up messes... We make the beautiful messes." The subtle scent of her cloying perfume clung to him when he finally came home, a stark contrast to his flimsy excuses. And then, the next morning, I found it – a pot of beef soup simmering on our stove, made with peanuts, an ingredient that could kill me, prepared for her. The final insult came in the form of a field of white roses, delivered to our home, a grand gesture of apology meant not for me, but for his "wildfire" Chloe. He had called me "Ava," someone who "takes care of things," a mere housekeeper to his grand, destructive passion. But I was done burning. With a single, one-way ticket in hand, and the sound of his whispered endearments to Chloe echoing in my ears, I made a choice that morning: I wasn't just leaving him, I was reclaiming myself.

You'll also like

I'm Divorcing with You, Mr Billionaire!

I'm Divorcing with You, Mr Billionaire!

The Wine Press
4.2

I received a pornographic video. "Do you like this?" The man speaking in the video is my husband, Mark, whom I haven't seen for several months. He is naked, his shirt and pants scattered on the ground, thrusting forcefully on a woman whose face I can't see, her plump and round breasts bouncing vigorously. I can clearly hear the slapping sounds in the video, mixed with lustful moans and grunts. "Yes, yes, fuck me hard, baby," the woman screams ecstatically in response. "You naughty girl!" Mark stands up and flips her over, slapping her buttocks as he speaks. "Stick your ass up!" The woman giggles, turns around, sways her buttocks, and kneels on the bed. I feel like someone has poured a bucket of ice water on my head. It's bad enough that my husband is having an affair, but what's worse is that the other woman is my own sister, Bella. ************************************************************************************************************************ "I want to get a divorce, Mark," I repeated myself in case he didn't hear me the first time-even though I knew he'd heard me clearly. He stared at me with a frown before answering coldly, "It's not up to you! I'm very busy, don't waste my time with such boring topics, or try to attract my attention!" The last thing I was going to do was argue or bicker with him. "I will have the lawyer send you the divorce agreement," was all I said, as calmly as I could muster. He didn't even say another word after that and just went through the door he'd been standing in front of, slamming it harshly behind him. My eyes lingered on the knob of the door a bit absentmindedly before I pulled the wedding ring off my finger and placed it on the table. I grabbed my suitcase, which I'd already had my things packed in and headed out of the house.

Chapters
Read Now
Download Book
The Swapped Bride: His Unseen Queen The Swapped Bride: His Unseen Queen Marnie Nomura Mafia
“I woke up gasping for air, expecting to feel the crushed ribs and shattered glass from the fatal car crash. Instead, I found myself in the cavernous bedroom of the Franco Estate in 1928 Chicago. In my past life, my stepmother forced me to marry a golden-boy politician, while throwing my stepsister Clara to Damien Franco, the ruthless mafia boss. But Clara became the Mafia Queen, and Damien destroyed my husband's career, leaving me to die in disgrace as a sacrificed pawn. This time, the script was flipped. My stepmother kept the "clean" politician for Clara and threw me to the monster. Just three days after my wedding, my family arrived at my new home. Not to comfort me, but to strip me of my late mother's trust fund. They rigged my assets, leaving me with toxic, gang-tied warehouses designed to bankrupt me and get me killed in an Irish mob turf war. "She's not a wife, she's collateral meant to absorb the mafia's bullets. She'll be dead within a year." Clara's mocking words reached my ears, confirming my darkest fears. I spent my entire last life bleeding my soul dry for their approval, only to be betrayed. I couldn't fathom how my own father and brothers could gleefully orchestrate my murder just to line their pockets. But they had no idea they had just handed me the keys to the underworld. I wasn't that naive girl anymore. I slammed the ledgers of their embezzlement onto the mahogany table, looked my arrogant brothers in the eye, and invoked the absolute, bloody laws of the Cosa Nostra to collect their debts. This time, I would tear their empire to the ground.”
1

Chapter 1 1

Today at 19:32

2

Chapter 2 2

Today at 19:32

3

Chapter 3 3

Today at 19:32

4

Chapter 4 4

Today at 19:32

5

Chapter 5 5

Today at 19:32

6

Chapter 6 6

Today at 19:32

7

Chapter 7 7

Today at 19:32

8

Chapter 8 8

Today at 19:32

9

Chapter 9 9

Today at 19:32

10

Chapter 10 10

Today at 19:32