Once His Little Girl, Now His Proper Mafia Wife
"I was sold to a devil - a man who owned empires, destroyed lives, and believed love was weakness. That devil now owns me."
When 19-year-old Malissa is betrayed by her own father and sold to settle a mafia debt, she's forced into the cruel, mysterious world of Hayden Castellano - a ruthless mafia king known for his cold heart and blood-stained hands.
She's to serve as his slave. No rights. No freedom. No escape.
But Hayden didn't expect her fire. Her resistance. Her refusal to break.
As days turn into weeks, their war of wills turns into something else - something dangerous. Hayden becomes possessive. Obsessive. And just when Malissa starts to feel the pull of his tortured soul, she uncovers secrets that could cost her everything - including the truth about her own bloodline.
Because in Hayden's world, love doesn't save you.
It marks you for death.
"He said he owned me. He never expected I'd own his heart."
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Chapter 2
The priest recoiled in shock as he put both hands up above his head in surrender. I hoped he didn't piss his pants. Actually, I couldn't tell if he had, but I could tell that he had started openly crying in fear. I better shut up and wait until this event ends if I want to keep my head in one piece and on my neck and shoulders.
"Where is my son? Where's Hayden?" the boss screamed at the top of his lungs.
Great, so his name is Hayden. Not only have I never met my husband-to-be before, I didn't even know his name. I also haven't seen a photo of him and so I didn't know what he looked like. Not that I was interested. If I had no choice but to marry him anyways, what difference does it make whether he's as handsome as a prince or as ugly as a beast.
The boss turned around and started waving his gun at the rows upon rows upon rows of men dressed head to toe in back suits, the standard uniform of the mafia it seems.
It was a rare sight to see men of various ages shift uncomfortably in their seats just like little kids who have been caught doing something mischievous as they looked anxiously at each other. It was obvious that no one wanted to deliver bad news to the boss.
"Umm...I'm sure that Hayden is on the way boss. You don't need to worry..." a man who I assumed was one of the boss's trusted men said as he tried to reassure the boss.
"I don't need to be worried? Hayden is late!" the boss screamed, his face getting redder from anger.
"He's on the way boss. Please wait just a little longer," the man quickly said.
"Do you know where he is? Have you found him?! Answer me!!" the boss continued to scream as he grabbed the man by his collar and started pulling hard on it.
The men looked at each other while they thought about how to deal with the boss and his violent temper. I could tell that Hayden hadn't been found. To be honest, I don't blame him for not turning up. I imagined that he felt the same way that I did. Who in their right mind would want to marry a woman he has never met or heard of before?
Just like I didn't want to marry him, he clearly doesn't want to marry me.
Thank you, Hayden or whoever you are. Thank you for not turning up.
If this marriage fails because he didn't turn up, then it won't be my fault. I prayed so desperately like I have never prayed before. I wasn't a religious person and I hardly believed in God. However, if God is real, please just let me return to my old peaceful life back in the quiet countryside.
"Master Hayden has arrived!"
What?!
"Perfect! My Hayden is finally here!" the boss shouted happily, a smile blooming on his face.
I, on the other hand, felt like I was doomed for all eternity. Why did he have to turn up now? Did he change in mind about this marriage?
I whirled around as fast as I could in my heavy and overly puffy wedding dress to face the direction of the church's entry. The large wooden door slowly opened, so dramatically slowly like we were really caught up in a movie.
I held my breath as I waited for my husband-to-be to walk through the door. I wondered what he would look like. If his father had to go so far as to arrange a marriage for him, then he's probably old, ugly, and unable to find his own girlfriend despite the wealth that he seemed to possess.
"Hayden!" the boss cried out in excitement as he clapped his hand joyfully as he saw his son entering the church.
I wasn't quite sure what I was expecting but what I saw was out of this world. Forget what Hayden looked like, I couldn't even see his face clearly. Hayden didn't walk in on his own. To be exact, it seemed that he couldn't walk on his own or support his own weight at that moment.
Two tall men, dressed entirely in black with sunglasses on, supported Hayden on both sides by draping his arms on their shoulders.
Oh, great. Hayden seems to be...unconscious?
As far as I could tell Hayden was being dragged into the church by two men. He seemed unconscious and unaware of his surrounding and what was going on. As the men walked further into the church, I could see Hayden closer and clearer.
Although his face was not clearly visible because his body was bent forward with his head hanging low, I could tell that he wasn't old and ugly. Hayden was tall...very tall. The two men in black supporting him were much larger and taller than standard men but the hunched-over Hayden was taller. He had light blond hair and wasn't dressed for the role of the groom. That's for sure.
When the two men walked him down the aisle, or more like dragged him, I finally understood why and so did most guests in the church. The unpleasant stench of alcohol was so intense that I was sure that everyone could smell it. My nose twitched at the smell, and I instinctively started fanning the air in front of my nose by waving my hand.
Hayden was dead drunk.
From the way he was dressed, I could surmise that the two men dressed him while he was unconscious. Hayden didn't have a shirt on, but someone did put white pants, a white blazer suit and a black leather pair of shoes on him. His well-defined chest muscles and the six-pack of his stomach was clearly visible through the opening of his white unbuttoned blazer.
So...this is my husband-to-be. To be honest, he didn't look as bad as I imagined he would be. He seemed young, around my age if I had to guess, and he was tall, well-built and I guess good looking. That, however, did not stir my heart at all. No matter what, I did not want to marry this man.
I wanted to ask if we could go ahead with the wedding ceremony with the groom clearly unconscious, but I was afraid his father would blow my brains out, literally, with his gun. I kept silent instead as I waited to see what would happen next.
The guests, which consisted mostly of the mafia gang members, started whispering to each other in low hushed voiced. I couldn't catch what they were saying but I had a good guess. I could surmise from what I've heard before that this Hayden guy had a little bit of a mixed popularity pole amongst his fellow mafia gang members.
"Umm...is the groom even conscious?" the old priest whispered so softly that I almost couldn't hear him.
Exactly...thank you for pointing that out, priest!
--To be continued...
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9.4
Whitney Rivers, a plastic surgeon who dreams of owning her own practice, crosses paths with Casio Capone. Her life takes a turn in a way she never would have expected. What started as a chance encounter in the busy streets of New York City turns into a whirlwind connection she can't resist.
Until one day, when everything shattered.
An attempt to get to Casio, Whitney is kidnapped by his enemies as leverage. Entering the dark and violent underworld of the Mafia. Whitney comes face to face with coldblooded killers and the brutal reality of Casio's life.
Caught between danger and desire, will Casio and Whitney's connection become stronger, or will it crash and burn? Will it destroy them or make them unstoppable?
9.5
This is wrong Clark, Rachel is my sister." I said out of breath as he continued assaulting my neck with kisses.
"I don't care Eva, it's you I want and desire and not her."
"what will the world say??? what if she finds out about this Clark?? what then??" I asked with uncertainty.
"I want you and care only about you Eva and the world can go to hell!!! are you ready to hold my hand as we walk through this path together???"
"Clarkkkk."
"Answer me, Eva!! are you ready???"
Eva Mendes harbours a secret attraction for her sister's husband Clark Anderson and as she struggles with her guilt and shame, she finds herself drawn to Clark's confident nature despite the danger of ruining her sister's relationship and her own reputation.
As their desires intensify, they realize that their secrets and lies may ultimately lead to their downfall or will it???
9.4
My husband, the ruthless Underboss of the Ewing crime family, was terrified of one thing: his dead fiancée’s memory.
Or rather, her living sister, Ivana, who used that memory to turn my life into a living hell.
To "apologize" for humiliating me at a gala, Corbett brought me a peace offering: a green macaron.
"Pistachio," he promised. "Your favorite."
I took one bite, and my throat instantly seized. It felt like barbed wire tightening around my windpipe.
It wasn't pistachio. It was almond paste.
Corbett knew I was deadly allergic. He used to carry my EpiPen on our first dates.
As I collapsed to the floor, wheezing and clawing at my neck, a scream ripped from the guest wing.
"Corbett! Help! They're posting mean comments about me again!"
Ivana.
Corbett looked down at me, his dying wife, and then looked toward the hallway where Ivana was crying over Instagram.
He hesitated for only a second.
Then he pulled his leg away from my grasping hand.
"I'll be right back," he said, turning his back on me. "Just... use your pen."
He ran to comfort a healthy woman while I crawled across the carpet, vision tunneling, forcing the needle into my own thigh to restart my heart.
As I lay there shaking, listening to him soothe her, the last thread of love snapped.
I didn't call an ambulance.
I pulled a burner phone from behind the vanity mirror and texted the one man Corbett feared more than death—his rival, Don Kain Solomon.
"I accept. Get me out."
7.9
I stood by Franco for seven years.
I stayed with him from his days as a Brooklyn street enforcer until he became the Underboss of the Moretti family.
We promised to marry the day he fully took over the territory.
Until last month.
I saw Franco tangled up with someone else on the leather sofa of his safe house.
He said she was cold like ice and that the other woman knew exactly how to please a man.
He pinned her down.
I chose to walk away.
I heard the rumors later.
After I left.
Franco lost his mind.
7.5
In the Kingdom of Everspire, a celestial omen appears once every thousand years, the Blood Moon Prophecy. It chooses one woman to mate-bond with five Alpha wolves, each ruling a different pack. If she fails to unite them, the kingdom will fall to the Void Beasts that hunt in the shadows. This year, it chose me, and all five of my fated Alpha mates rejected our bond.
I was the packless wolfless orphan no one wants.
They don't know I'm the Silver Phantom, the realm's most feared masked rogue wolf who's slaughtered corrupt Alphas for a decade.
They don't know I'm the Last Moonblood, heir to the ancient Celestial Pack that was supposed to be exterminated. They don't know I'm a True Alpha-stronger than any wolf alive-who's mastered nine ancient powers: primal magic, battle strategy, healing arts, divine shifting, and more.
And they definitely don't know I'm the only one who can stop the Demon King of the Void from breaking through and destroying all shifter-kind.
The Crown Prince Alpha thought bonding with me would weaken his bloodline.
Now he corners me in the hallways, his voice low and desperate "You belong to me, Lysandra. At my side. In my bed. Under my protection. Your wolf calls to mine-don't you dare deny what burns between us."
The General Alpha believed I'd be a liability on the battlefield.
Now he drops to one knee before me after I ended a war he couldn't win, his eyes burning gold. "I was a god-damned fool. You're not just my mate. You're my Alpha. My equal in everything. I'll kill anyone who tries to take you from me. Say you'll stay."
The Grand Sorcerer Alpha was convinced I had no wolf, no power, nothing became obsessed. "Your power passes mine. You're Mine. I've searched centuries for a mate worthy of me, and you've been here all along. Don't you dare hide from me again."
The Merchant Heir Alpha called me forgettable. Now he traces the scars on my face like they're sacred. "I was blind and stupid. You're the most exquisite creature I've ever seen. Let me spend eternity proving I'm worthy of you. Let me worship you the way I should have from the moment we met."
The Shadow Guardian Alpha refused to even acknowledge my existence.
Now he stalks me through the darkness, his voice a rough whisper against my neck. "I've hunted you for years without knowing my prey was my mate. You're the only wolf strong enough to stand beside me. The only one I'll ever submit to. You own me, little phantom. Whether you accept it or not."
And now all five of them are obsessed with me.
Possessive and Feral with need.
Too bad I'm the one in control now.
And I have a Demon King to kill.
7.4
I was only fifteen when my venomous family orchestrated my doom by forcing me into an arranged marriage with mafia heir Javier Velasquez.
On our wedding night, Javier paraded strippers into our suite to show his absolute contempt, turning me into the ultimate joke of the underworld overnight.
But being a joke was a luxury compared to what came next.
Three years later, Javier needed to be a widower to marry into a heavily armed family and secure their backing for a coup.
He didn't grant me the mercy of a bullet.
Instead, he dragged me to an abandoned underground safehouse, locked me in the damp, rotting dark, and told the world I had been assassinated.
For six months, I starved in that dungeon, surviving only on the desperate hope that my family was safe.
Then, on the day of his lavish new wedding, a cruel maid kicked a plate of spoiled food onto my floor and delivered the final, fatal blow.
"Annabel is dead. Pined away and died of a broken heart two weeks ago."
My gentle mother was dead, all because she actually believed his lie about my tragic murder.
Driven by pure agony and an all-consuming hatred, I shattered crates of smuggled chemical solvents and struck a match, letting the roaring inferno turn their bloody wedding into my funeral pyre.
I thought the fire was the end.
But when I opened my eyes, the suffocating smoke vanished, replaced by the biting chill of a Long Island winter.
I was standing in the snow, back on the exact day my descent into hell began.
This time, the terrified girl was dead, and I would use their own ruthless rules to tear their empire apart.