
Married To The Riveted Duke
"...If she gets close to me by chance, I'll be force to separate you from her." He threatened his wife.
"If we aren't welcome, we may as well leave your house and go back to where we came from." She replied boldly.
"And you think I'll allow you to go that easily?...You're my wife and whatever I say stands. Don't think you can get away from me easily."
*******************************************
Rebecca's only desire is to be with the one she thinks loves her. But her heart gets broken when he leaves her and ends the relationship. She conceals her pregnancy and deals with her burden alone. Duke Williams seeks her hand in marriage and marries her, well aware that she is pregnant with another's child.
As she lives with her husband, she realizes the true reasons why he had married her. Duke Williams has been her secret admirer, obsessed with her beauty and only wants her for himself.
Rebecca's love life gets threatened when her child's father returns and an unexpected ex moves into her husband's house. Will she be able to save everything she loves or let her home fall apart?
Chapters
Share
Chapter 6
The sun had risen and was partially overshadowed by the clouds. The clouds were of two colours-grey and white-which indicated the chance of rain later that day. The winds blew less violently as it did days ago.
Williams was in his room, seated on a stool and had a paintbrush in his hand. His room was wide, wider than the Duchess' as well as the rest. There was a king-sized bed, which had plain blue bedsheets; there was a bedside table which had a lamp on it; the room was really arid as it had more windows than other's and there were different paintings hung on the wall.
Williams had an obsession for art when he was a child and had been blessed with a talent to visually present his ideas or thoughts through painting. A part of the room-close to the windows on the left side of room-was used an art room. His tools were properly arranged on the table and were in order. He moved the brush on the canvas in front of him and painted what he had in his mind. The painting was half done, almost revealing what is it was.
Williams was had the brush in a colour on the palette and was about to continue his painting when he abruptly stopped. The Lady's cry from the Duchess' room had interrupted his concentration. He angrily kept the palette on the table beside him and stood on his feet. He was annoyed by the child's continuous cries. He left his room and went to the Duchess'.
Williams entered the room and was a little surprised. He had partially closed the door behind him and walked further into the room. He looked at the bed and saw the Lady as she cried for her mother's attention. Rebecca wasn't in the room and had left her daughter unattended.
Williams stared at the child blankly as she cried. Her cries only annoyed him.
"My life had been peaceful until you came along." He blurted out, wearing a plain look,
"If your mother wanted to have you that much, she should be at your side constantly to make sure you don't annoy me."
The door opened softly and Rebecca came in. She was startled by the figure in her room.
"Your grace?" She said doubtfully, in a feeble voice.
The Duke heard her and turned his head round. He flashed a glance at her and looked at the child, who was still crying. Rebecca heard her daughter's voice and walked towards her. She saw that had been crying and quickly carried her in her arms.
"It's okay. I am here." She said affectionately to her daughter, in a soft voice.
The Lady stopped as she recognized her mother's voice as well as her touch. She was two weeks old and could see clearly. Rebecca smiled at her daughter and gently swung her in her arms. She had named her Catherine.
"Why did you leave her unattended? Didn't her cry bothered you as much as it bothered me?" He asked curtly, in a stern voice.
Rebecca diverted her eyes from her child's to the Duke. She saw the frown he had worn.
"I didn't leave her unattended. I had fed her and stayed with her until she fell asleep. I only went downstairs to have breakfast." She answered timidly.
"But she wasn't asleep when I entered. She almost removed the house from its foundation with her cry." He said ironically.
"My child is harmless and can barely do much asides eating and sleeping." She replied plainly.
"But she has certainly become a thorn in my flesh. Can't she do anything useful rather than disturbing everyone with her cry? It's unbearable." He said frigidly, annoying by the child's presence.
"She is just a child and can't control herself." She retorted, upset by his attitude towards her daughter.
"But you can prevent it." He shot back at her.
His voice frightened the child and caused her to cry again. Rebecca softly hushed her daughter and made her daughter calm.
"She is just a child and has done you no wrong. Why would you treat her with this much bitterness?" She inquired eagerly.
Williams turned a deaf ear to the question and remained mute. Rebecca wished to know his resentment towards her daughter but he avoided the question.
"Just keep her out of my way. If she gets close to me by chance, I'll be force to separate you from her." He warned her, keeping a straight face.
"If our presence irritate you, then why did you bring us here? We were better off in my parents' house. At least, we would be comfortable." She asked him, raising her voice at him.
"Like I said, keep her away from me." He repeated. He was firm. He turned around and walked to the door.
"If we aren't welcome, we may as well leave your house and go back to where we came from." She said openly, still maintaining her boldness.
Williams stopped. He pondered what she said and looked at her.
"And you think I'll allow to go that easily? Certainly not! The child can leave; I don't care where or whom you leave her with. As long as she is in this house, I will never be pleased with her. But you, you can't leave. You're my wife and whatever I say stands. Don't think you can get away from me easily." He told her off.
Rebecca looked at him fearfully. She wasn't expecting to get such a response from him. The Duke left the room and returned to where he had come from. Rebecca looked at her daughter, who was asleep and feared for her life.
<>
Hilda had gone to the market with Crystal. Crystal had been fond of The Duchess' family since she was a child. She lived in the same neighbourhood as them and moved in with them when her parents died in a storm while they were at sea.
Crystal held the basket with was filled with different food produce as well as some seafood. They strolled home. Hilda had been anxious about her daughter's well-being since she had left. She hadn't heard anything from her.
"Crystal?" Hilda called her calmly, hiding the anxiety to avoid it been obvious.
"Yes, Mrs Hilda!" Crystal replied, flashing a glance at her.
"Have you heard anything from your friend? It has been a month since she had gone to live with her husband and she hasn't written to me." Hilda expressed openly.
Crystal had received Rebecca's letter and did her best to conceal the drama that was happening in the Duke's home.
"She is fine, Mrs Hilda. I'm certain the Duke is treating well. She had written to me weeks ago and told be how happy she was in her home." Crystal lied convincingly, hoping Hilda would believe her.
"If you say she is fine, then I believe you." Hilda said, feeling relieved by the message,
"I was worried that things might not have been good over there. The Duke seems like a good gentleman. For a man to marry someone who was pregnant with another's child, it is rare."
Crystal smiled sheepishly and diverted her eyes to the side of the road. She had seen something that had taken her interest. It was a carriage that had pulled over in front of a shop. The horseman was dressed in formal outfit-which signified that he served the royal household. He held the door open for the king.
"His Majesty is back?" She said inwardly, surprised to see him.
Crystal had her eyes on him until he entered the shop. She stopped walking and glanced at the carriage.
"I have to tell Rebecca. She has to know that her child's father is back." She thought.
Hilda had noticed her absence at her side and turned her head round.
"Crystal," She called softly.
Crystal looked at her, caught off-guard by the call.
"Are you okay?"
Crystal replied in a nod. She glanced at the carriage again and walked towards Hilda.
Keep Reading
The story is getting intense! Switch to App to
Unlock All Chapters
You may also like

7.8
Helen was finally brought back to the luxurious Gallagher estate as their long-lost blood relative.
But her new family didn't welcome her; they looked at her with undisguised disgust.
The matriarch mocked her stench of poverty, while her step-sister Candice treated her like a feral animal. The patriarch, Fredy—who had built his empire by betraying Helen's mother—tried to break her spirit. He blackmailed Helen into attending a high-society gala by threatening to cut off her grandmother's medical funds.
At the gala, Candice squeezed into a diamond-encrusted gown, desperate to seduce the guest of honor, Damian Montgomery. Damian was the most powerful man in New York, and he was currently tearing the city apart looking for a mysterious woman named Jane.
Overhearing this, a sick, greedy smile spread across Candice's face. She planned to impersonate Jane to claim Damian's wealth and completely crush Helen under her heel.
"Hide in the corner tonight. Don't you dare try to speak to anyone important!"
They all thought Helen was just a helpless, uncultured country girl they could easily manipulate and step on to secure their stolen legacy.
What they didn't know was that Helen was the real Jane. She was the lethal shadow who had saved Damian in the woods, shattered his grip, and robbed his highly guarded vault just the night before.
Helen calmly adjusted her simple black dress and stepped into the ballroom, ready to tear their stolen world apart.

8.1
I died once. Betrayed, broken, and discarded by the most powerful man in New York.
Now, I'm back. Reborn on the very day my husband, Dante Moretti, handed me an expulsion agreement. But this time, I know his secret. The coldness in his eyes isn't cruelty; it's a slow-acting poison, a betrayal creeping through his veins, fed to him by those closest to him.
This time, I don't cower. I meet his icy command with a slap and an ultimatum: I carry his heir. To cast me out is to sentence his own bloodline to death.
He is the untouchable Don, a king on a poisoned throne, fighting a war within his own mind. I am the ghost of the queen he tried to break, armed with the memories of our enemies' every move.
I won't be a pawn in their game again. I will dismantle them all, from my treacherous sister to the viper he calls a mother. I will be the queen he needs, even if he fights me every step of the way.
It's a vendetta.

9.1
I stood at the altar in a fifty-thousand-dollar custom lace gown, waiting to marry the boy I had loved since I was five.
But Silas didn't say "I do."
He answered a phone call, turned pale, and bolted toward the exit as if the gates of hell had opened, leaving me to face five hundred of New York's most dangerous criminals alone.
He left me for a waitress named Lola.
The humiliation was suffocating. The elite of the Five Families looked at me with pity, a Genovese princess rejected for trash.
When Silas finally returned, he didn't apologize.
He showed up with hickeys on his neck, clinging to Lola, and had the audacity to suggest I become his mistress.
He even demanded I hand over my dowry—millions in weapons and cash—so he could fund their lifestyle and "redecorate" with her.
He thought I was still the innocent girl who would beg for his scraps.
He didn't realize that in the moment he ran, a shadow had stepped forward to fill the void.
Dante Moretti. The Don. Silas's uncle.
The most feared man in the city looked at me with dark, predatory eyes and offered me a choice: be a victim, or be a Queen.
"Since you are to marry a Moretti," Dante said, extending his scarred hand, "why not marry the head of the table?"
I looked at the door where Silas had disappeared, then at the Reaper standing before me.
"I do," I whispered.
Silas thought he had ruined my life, but he only cleared the way for me to marry the monster who would burn the world down for me.

7.6
Top DEA agent Kaitlynn Bruce woke up to a heavy, chemical lethargy, only to realize she was trapped in the body of a weak, abused war widow.
Before she could even process her new reality, she heard her sister-in-law counting cash, selling her unconscious body to a local thug for a measly two hundred dollars.
The thug dragged her new seven-year-old son, Cason, into the bedroom.
"Mommy!"
When the boy reached out, the man brutally kicked his small body into a wooden doorframe, leaving him gasping and bleeding on the floor.
Memories flooded Kaitlynn's mind. Her predecessor was a pathetic doormat whose husband's military pension had been bled dry by these greedy in-laws, leaving her children to starve and suffer endless abuse.
But as Kaitlynn looked at the bleeding boy's dark, unnervingly alert eyes, a chilling piece of DEA intelligence clicked in her mind.
Cason Richmond.
The name, the town, the abusive aunt—it all matched the classified files of the "Director of the Hive," the most ruthless and feared cartel puppet master in the criminal underworld.
How could this battered, starving child be destined to become the ultimate monster she used to hunt?
The original widow's tragic death was supposed to be the catalyst that pushed this boy into total darkness.
But Kaitlynn Bruce was not a victim.
Adrenaline burning through the drugs, she cracked the thug's neck with a brass lamp and choked the sister-in-law against the wall.
Looking down at the boy who was supposed to become a global nightmare, she made a vow. She was going to rewrite his script, even if she had to burn the whole world down to do it.

7.8
Growing up as the maid's daughter in the glittering, suffocating Collins mansion, Nora Macie has perfected the art of being invisible. Enter Asher Collins. Rich, ruthless, and infuriatingly untouchable, unfortunately for Nora, her stepbrother has always had the power to ruin her with a single word.
The moment a private video she never intended anyone to see is accidentally sent straight to Asher Collins. Except Asher doesn't expose her. He becomes curious... and dangerously invested.
He will remake her. Not just into someone noticed, but into someone unforgettable, someone who commands attention the moment she walks into a room.
Suddenly, the boys who never knew her name are watching her. Through it all, Asher remains in control... or at least he should be.
Because the closer Nora gets to becoming everything he designed, the harder it becomes for him to remember that she was never meant to be his.
*
His fingers lifted, brushing lightly along the side of her throat. "I think you've been lying to yourself," he said. "Because your body already knows what it wants."
Her breath faltered. "I swear, I'll kill you if you don't back the hell up."
And then, without giving her the chance to retreat, he closed the final inch between them. "I would much rather you kiss me."

7.3
My wife, Elena, walked into the Grand Boardroom and placed a possessive hand on her lover's chest.
Julian, a low-level associate I’d only hired as a favor to her, sat in my chair with his muddy boots on the polished mahogany table.
He blew smoke in my face and laughed.
"You're just a figurehead now, Dante. The Syndicate belongs to Elena. And since I'm the one keeping her happy at night, it belongs to me too."
Elena looked at me with cold eyes, delivering the ultimate betrayal without a shred of remorse.
"I'm pregnant, Dante. It's Julian's. We need the Moretti name for the baby, so sign the transfer papers and leave."
She believed the power of attorney documents I signed while delirious with fever had given her my empire.
She thought the mercenaries standing behind her were loyal to her checkbook.
She truly believed she could fire a Don like a mid-level manager caught stealing office supplies.
But she didn't know that in our world, loyalty isn't bought with stolen money.
And she certainly didn't know what was actually in the leather folder she was holding.
I looked at the traitor and the rat, feeling a strange, lethal sense of calm.
"You want to talk about papers?"
I tossed the real file onto the table, watching their smiles falter.
"You didn't sign a transfer of power, Elena. You signed a Renunciation of Protection."
I signaled my Enforcers, and the room exploded into motion.
"Now," I said, staring at Julian's terrified face. "Let's see how much the streets respect you without my name."