Aria Romano never imagined her life would turn into a living nightmare. Trapped in a contract marriage to settle her father's debt, she's now tied to Damien Salvatore-the cold, calculating mafia heir who only sees her as a pawn. But there's a catch: Damien is openly gay, and he makes it clear that their marriage is nothing more than a business deal, devoid of love or intimacy. Damien is everything she despises: arrogant, dominant, and utterly untouchable. He wants nothing to do with his new bride, keeping his distance with a scathing indifference that shatters her hopes of any normalcy. Yet as the days turn into months, Aria starts to see cracks in his icy façade, a flash of protectiveness, a rare moment of vulnerability, and a searing gaze that lingers too long. But just when Aria begins to unravel the layers of her enigmatic husband, Luca Moretti, Damien's ex-lover and the ruthless underboss of a rival family, reappears. Luca's obsession with Damien blurs the line between love and hate, and he's determined to destroy anyone who stands in his way, including Aria. Caught in a dangerous game of power, betrayal, and forbidden desire, Aria must navigate a world where trust is a luxury she can't afford. And as Damien's feelings for her grow, she realizes that the most dangerous secret isn't his sexuality or his hidden past-it's that she might actually be falling in love with her mafia gay husband. Will their love survive the lies and betrayals, or will it crumble under the weight of their dangerous secrets?
Chapter 1 01
The rain lashed against the windows of the limousine, a relentless drumming that drowned out the sounds of the city outside. Aria Romano stared blankly through the tinted glass, her fingers clenched around the bouquet of white roses in her lap. They felt heavy, like shackles disguised as petals. She wasn't sure if it was the chill in the air or the icy fear gripping her chest that made her shiver.
"Are you nervous?" her father asked, his voice laced with a desperation he didn't bother to hide.
Nervous? The word didn't even begin to cover it. She was on her way to marry a man she had never met, a man who was known to be cruel, unfeeling-a man who didn't even want her. But she couldn't say any of that, not when her father's eyes were filled with a pleading she had never seen before. He had made a deal with the devil to save his business, and Aria was the sacrificial lamb.
"I'm fine," she lied, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Fine?" Her father's gaze faltered, and he looked away, unable to meet her eyes. "This will secure our future, Aria. You have to understand that."
Secure our future. The phrase rattled around in her mind like a hollow promise. Her father's debts had spiraled out of control, and the Salvatore family had offered a solution-a marriage that would seal an alliance and settle the score. What no one spoke of, what they all pretended not to notice, was the glaring fact: Damien Salvatore was gay. The mafia prince, the cold, calculated heir who had never looked twice at a woman. This wasn't a marriage-it was a transaction, a mockery of vows she'd never dreamed she'd have to take.
The car pulled to a stop in front of the imposing gates of the Salvatore mansion, and her heart seized in her chest. The estate loomed like a beast in the storm, its dark silhouette outlined by flickering lightning. It was a fitting place for a nightmare to begin.
The door swung open, and a bodyguard motioned for her to step out. She hesitated, casting one last look at her father, who sat with his head bowed, his hands clasped together as if in prayer.
"You'll be fine," he murmured, but he didn't sound convinced.
With a deep breath, Aria stepped out into the rain, her white dress trailing behind her like a ghost. She felt the weight of it, like she was walking towards her own execution.
Inside, the mansion was all marble and gold, a display of wealth that screamed of power and control. The air was thick with the scent of roses and cigar smoke, a strange, unsettling combination that made her stomach churn. She was ushered into a grand room, where Damien Salvatore stood by the fireplace, his back turned to her.
He didn't move as she entered, didn't even acknowledge her presence. It was as if she were invisible, as if this moment-their wedding-was nothing more than an inconvenience to him.
"You're late," he said, his voice a low, cold drawl that sent a shiver down her spine.
Aria swallowed hard. "I came as quickly as I could."
He turned then, slowly, and she was struck by how handsome he was, in a dangerous, almost unreal way. Damien had the kind of face that could have been sculpted from marble-sharp jawline, high cheekbones, dark, piercing eyes that seemed to see right through her. He was dressed in a tailored black suit that fit him like a second skin, exuding a power that was impossible to ignore.
His eyes flicked over her, a quick, dismissive scan, and his lips curled into a smirk. "You look scared."
"I'm not," she lied again, forcing herself to meet his gaze.
"Good," he replied, stepping closer. He loomed over her, his presence overwhelming. "Fear doesn't suit you."
She flinched at the casual cruelty in his tone, but she didn't back down. "This is just a business deal to you, isn't it?"
His smirk widened. "Isn't it to you?"
She opened her mouth to argue, but no words came. He was right. This marriage wasn't about love or even lust-it was about power, control, and settling a debt. But that didn't make it any easier to swallow.
"Do you have any idea what you've agreed to, Aria?" he asked, his voice soft but edged with steel.
"I know enough," she said, squaring her shoulders. "I know you didn't want this any more than I did."
Damien's eyes flashed, a brief flicker of something she couldn't quite place-surprise, maybe, or amusement. "You know nothing," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper as he leaned in, so close she could feel his breath on her skin. "And you'll regret this. Mark my words."
Before she could respond, he stepped back, putting an ocean of space between them. The priest, who had been standing off to the side, cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable with the tension crackling in the air.
"Shall we begin?" the priest asked, glancing nervously between them.
Damien nodded once, curtly. "Let's get this over with."
The ceremony was a blur, a haze of words she barely registered. Damien's hand was cold when he slipped the ring onto her finger, his touch impersonal, almost mechanical. He didn't look at her when he recited his vows, and she forced herself not to flinch at the hollow sound of his voice.
When it was over, when the priest declared them husband and wife, Damien didn't kiss her. Instead, he turned away, already walking towards the door.
"Where are you going?" she called after him, her voice cracking with the strain of holding back tears.
He paused, just for a moment, and glanced back at her, his expression unreadable. "To take care of business. Don't wait up."
And then he was gone, leaving her standing there, a ring on her finger, alone on what was supposed to be the happiest day of her life.
Aria closed her eyes, drawing in a shaky breath. This was her new reality-a marriage in name only, bound to a man who couldn't care less if she disappeared off the face of the earth. But as the first tear slipped down her cheek, she made a silent vow to herself.
She wouldn't let him break her. Not now, not ever.
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