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Married to my Dad's Billionaire Mafia Friend Novel Cover

Married to my Dad's Billionaire Mafia Friend

To settle her father's massive debts, a young woman is forced into a marriage of convenience with his powerful billionaire friend, a man deeply entrenched in the dangerous mafia underworld. Trapped in a cold union born of obligation, she must navigate a world of luxury and lethal secrets. As she adjusts to her new life with a ruthless protector, the line between fear and desire blurs, challenging everything she knows about loyalty.
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Chapter 6

The Look that Froze Me

Sophia's POV

Three Days Later

“Knock knock,” Dad said, gently pushing the door open with his shoulder. His hands trembled slightly as he balanced a tray of tea and buttered bread.

I didn’t respond. I hadn’t responded in days.

Since the moment I learned the truth, that I had been offered like some token, bartered away to a man I barely remembered, I had barely moved. Just lying on my side, the same spot on my pillow still damp from tears that refused to stop falling.

Dad set the tray down on the little table by the window. The scent of warm bread filled the room, but it only made my stomach churn. He sat beside me on the bed, his weight barely dipping the mattress.

“Sophia,” he said softly, “you haven’t eaten in three days.”

I turned my face toward the wall, away from him. Silence was easier than rage.

He rubbed his fingers together, a nervous habit he’d had since I was a child. Guilt. He was swimming in it, but I didn’t care. It couldn’t undo what he had done.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “If I hadn’t… if I didn’t do what I did, I would’ve lost you. And Ava.”

His voice cracked on her name, Ava, my mom. His wife. The pain in his eyes when he said it was enough to crush any anger I still held. “If I hadn't agreed to the arrangement, I would’ve lost you and Ava both,” he said, each word drenched in guilt. “I had no power to do anything for Ava back then. I still don’t. But Leo... he gave me a choice, to save your life.”

“But you gave up my entire life, Dad,” I finally said, voice muffled against my pillow. “How do you expect me to marry your age mate?”

Tears wet the side of my face again, hot and angry. My fists clutched the pillow tight, holding in the scream clawing at my throat.

“I’m older than Leo,” Dad said, as if that made it better. “And the Leo I know… he’s a good man. He’ll take care of you.”

He was crying now too. I didn’t turn to see it, I didn’t need to. I could feel the shame dripping off his words like blood from a wound.

“Just leave me alone,” I said, voice hoarse.

“I’ll leave the food here,” he whispered. “I’ll come back for the tray later.”

The door clicked shut behind him.

I rolled onto my back, staring at the ceiling like it held all the answers. No matter how I twisted it in my mind, I couldn’t see a future where I belonged to someone like Leonard Morano. Not with our age difference. Not with the way he looked at me like I was his before I even had a say. Not with the power imbalance stretching like a chasm between us.

“No,” I whispered to the ceiling. “No, I won’t let this happen.”

I sat up.

If Leo thought he could choose my life for me, he didn’t know who I was.

He didn’t know I could fight back.

**********

KINGS BAR

It was like stepping into another world.

The outside was plain enough, just a black-bricked building with a red neon sign. But once I pushed through the heavy double doors, my breath caught.

The bar was magmatic in atmosphere, dim lighting that glowed like embers, velvet-lined booths nestled in shadow, glass chandeliers that shimmered like molten gold. Music played low and sensual, a jazzy undertone that made your heart thrum without knowing why.

I wore a short black velvet dress, the hem brushing just above mid-thigh, showing enough leg to be noticed but not enough to be mistaken. My hair was swept into a soft updo, curled tendrils falling across my cheeks, and my makeup was dramatic, smoky eyes, bold lips, just the kind of fire I needed to wear as armor.

I didn’t want to look lost, even though I was. I kept my back straight and my stride confident, weaving through bodies and perfume-heavy air as if I belonged.

I was looking for him.

Guards loitered around every exit, their eyes scanning lazily, but they didn’t stop me. My dress earned me passage. Appearance was currency here, and I was wearing mine like a weapon.

I found the room toward the back, behind beaded curtains that pulsed red with the ambient lighting. I peeked through and my breath hitched.

There he was.

Leonard Morano.

Sitting at the head of a long velvet booth like a king on his throne, flanked by dangerous-looking men who leaned in as he spoke. He wasn’t smiling, Leo rarely did. He didn’t need to. His presence was enough. That tailored suit, the way he draped his arm along the top of the booth, the way everyone listened when he spoke. He was in his world, commanding it like it belonged to him.

And technically… so did I.

I started to move toward the curtain.

A hand landed on my shoulder, firm, uninvited.

“Where do you think you’re going?” a low voice asked.

I turned, heart jumping into my throat. The man was tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in a fitted black suit. His jaw was squared, his tone clipped.

“You can’t go in there,” he said, eyes scanning me. “It’s dangerous.”

I stepped back slightly, nodding. “Okay,” I murmured.

He didn’t trust me. Good.

He went back to his post beside another suited guard. I shifted course and moved to the bar, taking a seat at a high stool with a view of the private room. I could still see Leo, still hear fragments of his voice.

I didn’t know what I was going to do, slap him, scream, throw wine in his face? Maybe all of it.

But something about the way he sat, the way his fingers tapped once on the table and men immediately quieted, it stirred something beneath my anger.

Control. He radiated it.

And then something odd caught my eye.

The guard who had spoken to me earlier, he kept glancing my way. Not in the usual sleazy bar way. No. His gaze was puzzled, searching. Like I was a riddle he was trying to solve.

Did he recognize me?

“Hey, beauty,” a voice slurred next to me.

I turned, a man with too much cologne and not enough sense stood with a wine glass in hand, clearly mistaking my silence for an invitation.

I rolled my eyes.

“I love that,” he chuckled. “The way you roll your eyes. You’ve got beautiful ones.”

I ignored him.

The bartender set a glass down in front of me. Pale gold, chilled.

“You’ve been sitting here long enough,” he said. “Here, juice. You need something in your system.”

I gave him a tight smile, took a sip. Sweet, slightly tart. My throat welcomed it.

The man next to me was still talking.

“You don’t want to talk to me? Let’s just get to know each other, you know...”

“I’m waiting for someone,” I cut in.

He backed off with a laugh, moving down the bar.

I turned back toward the room.

And that’s when I saw it.

The guard who had been staring earlier was now inside the private room, leaning down and whispering something into Leo’s ear.

Leo’s face turned toward him. Then, slowly, his gaze followed the direction the guard pointed.

To me.

Our eyes met.

In that moment, the entire bar seemed to fall silent.

His expression didn’t change immediately. But then it did.

Fury.

His eyes narrowed, jaw clenched. A flicker of something primal passed over his features. That look… it sent a chill all the way down my spine.

It wasn’t confusion. It wasn’t curiosity.

It was command.

“What the hell are you doing here?” his eyes seemed to ask.

And I had no answer.

I had just lit the match.

And now I was about to find out how fast the fire would spread.

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