The Mafia King's Pregnant Captive Bride

Chapter 3

Word Count: 784 | Released on: Today at 10:06

ll of rich whiskey and burning wood. I stood barefoot on the dark hardwood floor, the fl

, sat Damien Falcone. He didn't look up immediately. The scratch of hi

low, gravelly command that

d bowed. I stopped a few feet from his d

s as a winter storm-swept over my body. He took in the La Perla lingerie,

yes locked onto the vicious purple bruise blooming o

spoken, devoid of any inflection, yet they car

loor, playing the broken capt

on on his intercom. A second later, the heavy oak doors op

d his chin toward my face. "Find out who touched her,"

t a flicker of hesitation, turning

ed shut. We we

his tailored Italian suit doing nothing to hide the sheer, brutal power of his p

ised a hand, his long, calloused fingers gripping my chin with an inescapable force. He tilt

rror of being this close to the Underboss, combined with the agonizing adrenaline c

of dizziness hit me so har

psed fo

ore I hit the floor. The momentum carried us both, and I found myself crashing into his ches

re pressed flush against the iron-hard muscles of his thighs and chest. The in

ambled, pressing my hands agains

the sound vibratin

his other hand shackled my delicate wrist, pinning me against h

rrifying shift in our dynamic

lap. Instantly, a flash of lethal intent crossed Hanson's face. He thought I was a seductress, a dirty Rossi trying to

ned Hanson to the floor with a glare s

nded. Two words, drippin

ad. He backed out immediately, pulli

before. I was trapped in the arms of the devil, my heart ham

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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.”