No Escape from His Gilded Cage
Becoming a bride to settle a debt was never part of my dreams.
Yet, my stepbrother's betrayal and a trap party turned my life upside down, shattering my illusions of a joyful marriage. Now, I'm faced with the harsh reality of being married to a ruthless Mafia boss, Alessio Marino.
Can I trust his promises, or will my situation be worse than the abuse I endured from my stepbrother?
With love stripped from my wedding vows, all I can do is cling to hope for God's mercy and summon the strength to navigate this perilous new life.
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Chapter 6
Alessio's POV
The atmosphere quivers with tension emanating from Eleonora, and it's almost ridiculous that she wears winter clothes on such an oppressive day.
Although I have a long list of tasks to complete before tonight's darts game, the knowledge that Eleonora will visit Father Coppola today compelled me to instruct Joey to drive past the cathedral. It gives me a chance to keep her within my sight.
However, I never intended to spend the entire day as her fucking chauffeur. Given that she is destined to be my wife, I suppose it's time I get used to taking care of her needs.
Once we are married, she'll have both a driver and a bodyguard at her service, prepared to escort her anywhere her heart desires.
As I struggle to focus on the contract in my hands, I succumb to distraction, shifting my gaze to the enchanting woman beside me. I notice the white lily she clutches, nearly destroyed now, and mutter, "You're crushing it."
Her eyes widen in disbelief, and she gasps, "Come again?"
I gesture toward her hands. "You're holding that flower a bit too tightly."
She glances down, then murmurs, "Oh no." She loosens her grip on the wilting lily, adding with a small sigh, "Honestly, it was already dying when I got it."
As I admire her delicate features, I ask, "Why venture out on such a hot day?"
With a hint of embarrassment coloring her cheeks, she replies, "I had some errands to run." Nervously fidgeting with the flower, she begins to pluck its petals unaware.
"And these errands couldn't wait?" I prod, eager for more of her soft voice.
"Um..." Her fingers quicken, tearing off more petals. "I always meet Father Coppola on Tuesdays to bring him a homemade meal and discuss the baked goods for after Mass."
It's characteristic of her to think of the holy man like this, showcasing her nurturing nature.
She hesitates, her tongue flicking out to moisten her lips as she continues, "I just stopped by Martina's shop to pick out flowers for Sunday, and now I'm heading to grab the ingredients for the cannolis we'll serve after Mass." She finally pauses to catch her breath.
Her tendency to ramble is fucking charming and surprisingly endearing; it reveals the true Eleonora, unguarded and sincere.
Meanwhile, the lily is utterly ruined, and when she realizes it, panic crosses her face. "I'm so sorry!"
Clearly terrified that I would chastise her for the mess in the vehicle, she hurriedly scoops up the fallen petals, glancing around as if seeking an escape.
Just then, Joey finds a parking space near the grocery store, prompting me to say firmly, "We're going in with her."
"What?" Eleonora exclaims, her wide eyes betraying her shock.
"This isn't open for debate," I reply as I step out of the SUV, taking pleasure in this assertive exchange.
I stand waiting for her to exit, and when my hand lands gently on her lower back, she nearly jumps, startled.
I pay no mind to her reaction, confident she'll grow accustomed to my presence once we are married.
Joey lingers a short distance behind as we enter the store, and I grab a shopping cart.
Eleonora casts me a confused glance, but her courage fails her; she doesn't question why I've chosen to accompany her.
As we head toward the baking aisle, shoppers' eyes fixate on me, their fear palpable as people scatter in our wake, making Eleonora glance nervously up at me.
"What do you need?" I inquire, redirecting her attention.
Shaking her head slightly, she retrieves a crumpled note from her purse and quickly moves from one ingredient to another, hustling to gather supplies.
By the time we reach the checkout, the cashier avoids eye contact, scanning items with trembling hands.
The overwhelming sense of fear in the store is something I've carefully crafted over the years-an aura that speaks to power.
Eleonora extracts a few dollars from her bag, and I interject, "Let me take care of this."
"It's meant for the parish," she protests, uncertainty flickering in her eyes, but I choose not to repeat myself.
Ignoring her objections, I present my black unlimited card to the cashier, covering the meager cost of the ingredients that barely fill a single bag.
I make a mental note to arrange for Eleonora to have her own card soon.
As the payment processes, I remind myself not to forget this.
The cashier shakes like hell as she returns my card, which I place back into my wallet while Joey takes the shopping bag.
Outside the store, Eleonora scurries to stay close to me, whispering, "Thank you. I'll tell Father Coppola you took care of everything."
"You will not," I respond firmly.
"But I didn't use the money he gave me," she counters, her expression conflicted. "He'll want to know why."
For a moment, I respect her bravery in challenging me.
"Then just don't tell him the reason and keep the money for yourself," I suggest, watching her freeze in astonishment, as if I were fucking crazy.
"I can't lie to Father Coppola, and I certainly won't keep the parish's funds."
She makes the sign of the cross, clearly incredulous, and I let out a soft chuckle. "Why not?"
"To lie and to steal," she marvels, looking utterly aghast.
My lips curl into a mischievous grin as I lean closer, reaching out to caress her cheek. She flinches, her complexion paling.
Unfazed by her strong reaction, I maintain eye contact as I lean in slightly, causing her to hold her breath, and I can't help but laugh softly.
"It's not theft if I'm the one paying for it. I'm explicitly telling you to keep the money, which ultimately belongs to me."
Instead of responding verbally, she emits a small squeak and gives a nervous nod.
I raise my head slightly and meet her gaze once more. "Calm down, Eleonora. I have no intention of murdering you.
A surge of air escapes her lips, and sensing I've toyed with her emotions long enough today, I guide her toward the SUV. "Get in."
She dashes to the truck, like a small rabbit, and hurries inside.
As I settle next to her, she practically squishes herself against the far door.
I realize it's somewhat twisted, but I can't deny the fucking thrill I feel from her evident fear; a smile creeps onto my lips.
There's something undeniably intoxicating about the hunt for my little rabbit-this blend of vulnerability and strength in her captivates me endlessly.
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9.1
Julian Laurent was known as the most notorious playboy in Rivermont, changing girlfriends as often as he changed his clothes and treating marriage like a joke.
Clara Sterling, on the other hand, had always been the most quiet and obedient daughter of the Sterling family. Raised as the heir since childhood, she had been flawless in every word and every gesture.
A family-arranged marriage forced these two complete opposites into the same life.
On their wedding night, Julian openly made out with a young model at a nightclub.
For the first time, Clara cast aside her propriety, slapping him and demanding a divorce on the spot.
But before the next day was over, their families had forced them to remarry.
This time, Julian managed to stay faithful for a month before he cheated again.
Clara filed for divorce once more, cutting ties with him completely.
However, that very same day, it was revealed that Clara was not the real daughter of the Sterling family, and she was thrown out.
At her lowest point, Julian found her and solemnly promised to protect her from then on.
They remarried again, and from that day forward, the scandals surrounding Julian ceased.
Everyone said Clara was lucky. Even her best friend insisted that Julian had truly settled down, and Clara believed it.
Until she saw him in a hospital corridor, holding her best friend's hand, his voice strained with deep emotion, "I never liked her. You're the one I've always loved!"
It turned out all of his tenderness had been a lie.
This time, she walked away and never looked back.
And the man who had once treated her as disposable only realized after she was gone that he had long since drowned in her quiet love, unable to escape.
9.3
THE KING IS DEAD. LONG LIVE THE MONSTER.
Five years ago, Julian Thorne was the golden heir to London's most powerful banking dynasty. Then, his own brother paid to have him murdered.
The world mourned. The family moved on. And his brother claimed everything Julian left behind-including Isolde Sterling, the icy, breathtaking heiress to the shipping empire.
But Julian didn't die. He survived hell, forged in the brutal underground fighting pits of the East, and now... the ghost has returned home.
He crashes his brother's engagement party with a scar on his face, violence in his veins, and a single vow: Burn it all down.
He will strip his family of their fortune. He will expose the dark conspiracy that rules the city. But his sweetest revenge? Stealing the bride.
Isolde knows she should run. The man who returned is a predator-cold, lethal, and terrifyingly seductive. But when he looks at her with those dark, possessive eyes, she realizes the terrifying truth: she doesn't want to be saved. She wants to burn with him.
Revenge is a dish best served hot.
7.1
Aria has always gone unnoticed. As an omega at the lowest rank of the Silvermoon Pack, she has no family, friends, or prospects...only the contempt of wolves who regard her as insignificant. On her eighteenth birthday, she dares to hold on to the hope that fate might grant her a better future.
Instead, it destroys her. Her destined mate, Damon, the strong Beta, rejects her publicly in front of the pack. Humiliated and devastated, Aria must face the world alone... until one night transforms everything.
Attacked by rogues, she is saved by Alpha Luca, leader of the nearby Bloodfang Pack. Their connection is unmistakable...intense, fierce, and visceral. For Luca, who lost his first mate to hunters, Aria represents a second chance he never believed possible. For Aria, Luca becomes the lifeline she never anticipated would be.
Love with an Alpha is never straightforward. Damon's obsession darkens, transforming into something more sinister. Within Bloodfang, betrayal stirs as jealousy and ambition mask themselves with friendly appearances. The werewolf council begins to doubt her value. As conflict with rogue factions approaches, Aria must struggle not just to remain beside Luca but also to ensure the survival of his entire pack.
Once a broken omega, now destined to become a Luna... Aria faces a choice: to let her past shape her future or to rise above it and demonstrate that even the most overlooked wolf can alter the course of their destiny.
8.6
Eight years ago, Rosalyn sold herself for money, and Nathan became her first and only client.
Now, with her wedding approaching, her own fiancé sent her back to the same man.
What should have been one more humiliating transaction dragged her into Nathan's dangerous orbit again-an orbit he had no intention of letting her escape.
As her fiancé cheated and schemed, Nathan crushed him in secret.
When rumors tore at her name, he spent freely to protect her.
But just when he reached for forever, Rosalyn walked away, leaving behind a truth written in blood, loss, and the child they never got to keep.
9.6
Nelson Smith has been struggling for survival due to kidney failure. Without a transplant, he has less than four months to live.
No one in his family matched after tests were done. Not even his siblings, parents or cousins, except for one person, Janice Capuno, his wife.
Janice used to be the darling of a wealthy Dynasty, until she hid her identity and married the man she loves, Nelson Smith, against her parent's wishes.
Instead of getting love, she was treated like a servant by her mother-in-law, mocked as a gold-digger by her sister in-law, but for her husband, his love towards her remained unshakable. He'd never ceased defending and protecting her from his family, that's why when the doctors confirmed her to be a match, she didn't hesitate to get herself cut open to save Nelson's life.
****
There was barely thirty minutes to the surgery, and Janice was already in her hospital gown, waiting to get cut and her kidney given out to save her husband's life, when the reality of everything she had believed in came changing in her eyes.
"Babe....my phone...switch it off...battery." Nelson pointed to his bag weakly before the sedative took full action on him. Just before she'll put the phone off, a WhatsApp notification suddenly popped up. It was from Tricia, his University ex-girlfriend.
"Baby, has the fool gone into the theatre yet? I can't wait for this to be over. Once you get the kidney, we're done with her." The message read.
9.7
I was sitting in a Starbucks, staring at a cold Americano, while the girl I thought was the love of my life looked at me with pure disgust.
Hailee Baxter slammed her latte down and told me we were done, claiming she couldn’t start her career at City Hall with a "diner kid" dragging her down.
She wasn't just breaking my heart; she was trading me in for Kyler Craft, the son of a powerful politician who could buy her the future she craved. In my past life, this was the moment I shattered, beginning a twenty-year spiral into alcoholism, poverty, and watching my parents work themselves into an early grave while I failed at everything. I vividly remembered the smell of cheap whiskey and the obituary of my father that I was too broke to even attend.
But as I looked down at my hands, they weren't the calloused, shaking hands of a forty-year-old failure; they were smooth, young, and steady. The silver Motorola flip phone in my pocket felt like a relic from a museum, and the girl in front of me looked like a shallow stranger rather than the woman of my dreams.
The crushing pain in my chest wasn't a heart attack—it was forty years of bitter regret colliding with a twenty-two-year-old body. Hailee was waiting for me to beg for another chance, her napkin ready to wipe away the pathetic tears she expected, but all I felt was a cold, clinical clarity.
How could I have been so blind to her greed, and why did I let one failed exam and a rich boy’s bullying destroy my entire family’s legacy?
I glanced at the newspaper on the table: May 12, 2005. This was the day I supposedly lost the City Hall fellowship, but I remembered a secret about the "Supplemental Candidate Protocol" that no one else would know for another week. I stood up, ignored Hailee's insults, and dialed the number etched into my soul.
"Mom," I whispered into the flip phone, "I'm coming home. And this time, I’m going to take back everything we lost."