Married At Gunpoint: The Mafia Boss Chose Me

Riley Collins's POV:

The moment the car lurched forward, my back slammed into the seat, knocking the air from my lungs. My chest throbbed with every breath. Luca's gun still seemed to weigh on my skin, and the scent of gunpowder clung to the memory of his cologne. Worst of all was the image of his brother's blood, dripping through my thoughts like a slow, relentless tap.

"Let me out of this car! Where are you taking me?"

Luca kept his eyes on the road. He didn't look at me as he sped through traffic like he didn't care if we made it. He only slowed down once we hit a quieter street.

"I haven't even seen my sister. Bring me to her. Please," I pleaded.

Tears still clung to my cheeks. I refused to wipe them away with him watching, so I pressed my gaze against the window, wondering how my life had twisted into this nightmare.

Just when I thought the silence might last, he finally unleashed the anger I knew he'd been holding back.

"Start talking. Why did you come looking for me last night?" asked Luca, his voice tight with suspicion.

I kept my lips sealed. I had no idea what he knew or how much danger I was already in. I wasn't about to beg again.

"Did you know Jackson was planning something against me?" he asked, cutting me a sharp look in the rearview mirror.

I jerked my head toward him, my voice rising. "No! I thought that was his apartment! And I just assumed it was him."

"His apartment? Do you really think you can feed me that lie? That place has always belonged to me," he replied loudly.

"To you? He told me it was his. I didn't even know there were two of you. I thought I'd been dealing with him the entire time. I made an agreement with Jackson, and he never followed through. I only went there to collect what he owed, and look how that turned out."

A laugh slipped out of Luca. It was short, cruel, and meant to cut.

"Right. A brilliant deal with a mobster. In his apartment," he scoffed. "Tell me, are you actually that clueless or are you playing a deeper game?"

"Does it ever cross your mind to stop being a jerk? I'm not sure if you know what kind of arrangement I made," I replied, glaring at him through the mirror.

"Damn your arrangement! I don't give a damn! You're married to me now. Forget him. Did you hear me?"

We turned onto a stretch of road bordered by tall pine trees. An iron gate swung open on its own, revealing a mansion guarded by cameras, heavy walls, and men armed to the teeth. My stomach twisted. It looked more like a high-end prison than a home.

Luca slammed the car to a stop and cut the engine. The hush that followed felt heavier than the gunfire at the wedding.

Without warning, he swung toward me, closing the small space between us. I shrank back until my body pressed hard against the door. His arm braced against the window, trapping me in place.

"Tell me something, sweetheart," he muttered, his voice dropping to a slow, venomous whisper. "Why would you sleep with me, if you were engaged to my brother?"

My eyes flew open as a hollow drop rolled through my stomach.

"I was never engaged to anyone!" I said, my voice trembling. "I only... I only went to him because my sister crashed her car and ended up in a coma. He told me he'd keep her machines running for a month if I delivered a suitcase to that same address where I found you yesterday. But the suitcase... it was packed with illegal gems. I didn't even make it inside the apartment before the police took me in."

"When did this happen?"

"A year ago. He told me if I took the blame, he'd make sure my sister stayed alive. Then he offered a million to pay for the surgery that could wake her up."

"So you traded yourself for a million?" he cut in, his tone dripping with contempt. "Charming. What a touching little love tale." A bitter laugh followed. "You think you're worth a fortune, don't you? Tell me something. Did Jackson ever pay for the treatment? Or did both of us make a fool out of you?"

"I was arrested because of him..."

"Oh, poor you. What a bitch."

The insult slapped me harder than any hand. Heat rose beneath my skin, and before I could stop myself, my palm cracked across his cheek.

"I never sold myself! I did what I had to do! There was no scheme, no wedding, nothing!" I yelled.

"You got a death wish? What makes you think you can strike me?" Fury twisted his features, and his whole body started to shake. For a moment, I braced myself, certain he might lose control completely. Instead, his hand slid up and traced my lips with a slow, deliberate touch. "You're going to regret that." Without warning, his mouth crashed down on mine.

I shoved at his chest, desperate to break free, but he held me so tight I couldn't turn away. His kiss tasted like wine—bold and lingering—and my resistance slipped before he finally let me go

It startled me, how long it had been since anyone touched me like that.

"You should be grateful for that tempting mouth of yours. Next time, you might not get off so easy. Think about that before you act." His grip loosened, and I touched trembling fingers to my lips.

"I... I haven't ever been with anyone else. Last night was my first—" I forced in a shaky breath, fighting the urge to cry. "I never slept with Jackson."

He threw back his head and let out a bitter, mocking laugh.

"Oh, is that so? You certainly didn't act innocent with me last night."

Shame pressed me into the seat, and I twisted away, clutching the cushion while my breath came in short, shallow bursts.

I wanted to defend myself, to explain, but he wasn't listening. He never cared that I had never been with anyone before.

Suddenly, last night's memories crashed into me.

I'd spent a year locked away, waiting for Mr. Black to hold up his end of the deal. He vanished without a word. Out of sheer desperation, I found myself back at the apartment where all of this had started.

I never figured out who actually opened that door—I just assumed it was him. The same piercing eyes, that powerful build, and brown hair peppered with streaks of gray around the ears.

He didn't look the least bit startled. Instead, his gaze raked over me, cold and calculating.

"Well, isn't this interesting," he said, his tone cold. "Did my brother really think I'd fall for a pretty distraction?"

Clinging to the doorframe, I could feel my heart hammering against my ribs.

"I don't know anything about your brother. I'm here for you. You owe me, and I want what's mine," I responded, steadying my voice as best I could.

A flicker of suspicion sharpened his expression. The tension in my shoulders, the way I kept my hood up, every silent second—I could tell he saw right through me.

"Oh, that's how it is? Tell me, how much did he promise for a night with me?"

"That's not—" I started, but he didn't care about explanations. His hands gripped my waist, rough and unyielding, pulling me closer.

I fought back at first, but the thought of Emma's life fading away forced me to stop. If this was the price, then I would pay it.

I told myself that if giving up my body sealed the deal, then so be it. Walking away meant turning my back on her—and I couldn't do that.

"Get rid of that hood. I want to see exactly who I'm dealing with," he insisted, his grip tightening as if daring me to resist.

Standing in front of him, I felt stripped bare. Even with my clothes still on, his eyes left me feeling like there was nowhere left to hide. I wished I could simply vanish.

He spun me around and jerked the hood from my head, his knuckles pressing hard against my skin as though he wanted to squeeze the air right out of me, dragging me closer until escape was impossible.

"You don't smell like someone who's desperate for work."

"I'm not here for that. All I need is my money."

"Is that so? I wonder..."

Each time he brushed against me, every time he leaned in far too close, I swallowed my fear and focused on what truly mattered. I thought of that promise. I pictured the surgery, the endless hours at the hospital, the machines that kept Emma breathing.

He pressed his hand against my back, forcing me to stand still.

"Open wider, little slut..." His fingers pushed into me. It hurt more than I expected, but I stayed quiet.

When he was done, he pulled away without meeting my eyes and dropped a fifty-dollar bill on the floor like that was all I was worth.

"But you promised a million. That was the deal," I whispered, my voice thin and shaking.

A sharp, cold laugh burst from him, the sound cutting through the room like a blade.

"You can tell my brother I'm done letting him treat me like a fool. And next time, he better send someone who can keep their hunger hidden."

"Brother? What are you talking about?"

Without warning, he pulled out a gun and aimed it straight at my forehead.

"I'm tired of pretending. I'm sick of liars. Get out."

The moment he tossed the folded note at me, I scrambled to grab my things and slipped back into my clothes.

"This can't be all there is. Please. We made an agreement. I did everything I was supposed to. You owe me what you promised."

He curled his lip, the disgust plain in his voice. "A million? Who do you think you are? Get out of my sight before I decide you're not worth the oxygen you're wasting."

Before I could blink, the door slammed against my face, the echo ringing in my ears.

Until that moment, I never knew Jackson even had a brother. I never imagined that brother would be Luca.

And now I couldn't stop wondering why he revealed all of that to me. What kind of war were they fighting that made them willing to tear each other apart?