The Mafia King's Pregnant Captive Bride

Chapter 2

Word Count: 768 | Released on: Today at 10:06

ropped to the black La Perla lace clinging to my skin, her lip curling in absolute disgust. She didn't comment on the vicious

ted, gesturing t

dor. The atmosphere shifted instantly. The air here was heavy, thick with the scent of aged cigars, polished leather, and old wood-the undeniable smell of ab

nd me, her voice a cruel, scra

, her words dripping with venom. "You are a dirty Rossi leftover. A temporary vessel meant to warm

ive flawlessly. But beneath the facade of the broken girl, my mind was terrifyingly clear. I cataloged every insult, ever

past Falcone Dons. Their cold, painted eyes seemed to follow me, judging the last surviving Rossi walking through their hall

hadows twisted, and a wa

him, Cecile materialized behind the boy. She wore that same sickeningly sweet, fake smile, but her perfectly manicured nails were digging viciously into his small arms, dr

intense my knees nearly buckled. Th

d poison him, torture him, or drown him to secure her own power. A dark, primal instinct clawed its way up my throat. I couldn't

Bertha s

had reached the end of the hall. Towering before us were th

rip bruising. She leaned in close

d. When you go in, you stand by the fireplace. You do not make a sound. You do not speak unless he asks you a direct que

keeping my gaze firmly fixed o

ha raised her fist and knocked twice. A low

ked into place, sealing me in. The air inside was dense with the smell of rich whiskey and burning wood. I stood barefoot

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The Mafia King's Pregnant Captive Bride

Rutledge Shepp Mafia

“I am the last surviving Rossi, a hostage kept alive solely to be a breeding vessel for the rival Falcone mafia family. The Underboss's wife, Cecile, stripped me bare, slapped me fiercely, and forced me into black lace to warm her husband's bed. "You are nothing but a temporary container to breed the heir I cannot give my husband." She planned to steal my future child and dispose of me the moment I served my purpose. In this ruthless estate, her maids and Damien's mistresses mocked me constantly, waiting for the dirty Rossi leftover to be discarded like trash. I remembered my family begging for mercy right before they were slaughtered by Falcone soldiers. Submission in their world only meant a faster execution. Why should I just accept my fate as a disposable incubator while the monsters who ruined my bloodline paraded as untouched royalty? Instead of cowering, I mercilessly rubbed my bruised cheek until it turned a vicious purple, biting my lip until it bled. I walked into Damien's study, looking the ruthless Underboss dead in the eye. "Cecile can give him a name, but I will give him a spine." When Damien saw my ruined face and heard my defiance, the cold monster finally snapped. He didn't just protect his property; he publicly stripped his wife of her power, banished his mistresses, and locked the family's reigning sapphires around my neck. Cecile thought she was sending me to the slaughterhouse, but she had just handed me the throne.”