Sacrifice: The Mafia Don's Pregnant Wife

Chloe POV

I woke to the distant clang of metal doors somewhere above us, my body aching in ways I had never known. Leo's arm was wrapped around my waist like a steel band, his chest pressed flush against my back, his breath slow and even against my hair.

For the first time in years, I felt safe.

I turned my head slightly, studying his face in the dim light. Even in sleep, his jaw was set, his brow furrowed—as if he were still fighting, still protecting, even in his dreams.

I traced the edge of a scar along his collarbone, and his eyes snapped open instantly.

"Don't," he muttered, but there was no venom in it. His arm tightened around me instead of pushing me away.

"You're healing well," I said quietly.

He didn't respond. But his thumb traced a slow, absent circle against my hip, and I felt something shift between us—something that went far deeper than the blood-oath we had sworn.

"Why do you refuse to run?"

Leo's voice was a harsh grate against the thick silence of the cell later that morning. His massive weight pressed me down into the thin mattress once more, the pressure of his grip on my wrists a cold, metallic ache.

"Why do you insist on tying your fate to a dead man?"

I looked up into his dark, furious eyes. I did not struggle against his hold. I leaned my head up and kissed him fiercely on the mouth.

He froze, his body turning to stone.

"In my world, loyalty is absolute," I whispered against his lips. "We took the blood-oath. I will walk out of here with you."

His grip on my wrists tightened until my bones ached, but I held his gaze, even as my eyes glassed over with unshed tears.

"Trust me, Leo. Please."

Frustration boiled over in my chest, and I snapped at him, my voice echoing off the damp walls.

"I have been locked in a cage with you for days! My reputation is ruined. You need to stay alive to make this right."

Leo stared at me, a muscle feathering in his jaw. He released my wrists and pushed himself off the cot. He turned his back to me, running a hand through his dark, messy hair.

"You chose this path," he muttered, his voice heavy with a dark promise. "But I swear to God, if I die, I will ensure your safe passage out of the underworld. No one will touch you."

I sat up, rubbing my bruised wrists. He still did not believe I could save him. But he had begun to care whether I lived or died—and that was a crack in his armor I could work with.

The next morning, the heavy steel doors at the top of the stairs slammed open. Silas marched down the steps, flanked by four high-ranking Syndicate Capos. They did not carry weapons. Instead, one carried a pristine garment bag.

"An official decree has arrived from the Old Boss," Silas announced, his mocking tone completely gone. He looked nervous, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. "It is a full pardon. The Don has fallen terminally ill and declared a Syndicate-wide amnesty. You are officially exonerated, Underboss."

Silas unlocked the cell and placed the garment bag onto the cot with trembling hands. He gestured frantically to the guards, who rushed forward, fumbling with their keys to unlock the heavy iron shackles binding Leo's wrists to the wall.

Leo did not say a word. He stripped off his ruined, blood-stained shirt right in front of them, unmoved by their presence. He pulled on the crisp white shirt and the custom-tailored black suit from the bag.

When he turned around, my breath caught in my throat.

The battered prisoner was gone. Standing before me was a man whose presence seemed to command the very shadows in the room. The suit hugged his broad shoulders perfectly, and the Capos who had entered with such authority now seemed to shrink, their eyes fixed on the floor.

I averted my eyes, a sudden cold dread coiling in my stomach. I remembered my mother's warnings—how she had told me never to trust the intoxicating allure of a mafia man. That they consumed everything they touched.

Leo noticed my hesitation. He stepped toward me, his large hand wrapping firmly around my lower back. He did not ask if I was ready; he simply guided me forward.

We walked up the stairs and stepped out of the black site, the blinding sunlight striking my face like a physical blow.

Waiting in the courtyard were Charles, Brenda, and Cassidy. Standing beside my corrupt family was Capo Carlo, the rival heir, his face twisted in absolute fury.

Charles stepped forward, sweating profusely as he plastered a sycophantic smile on his face.

"Congratulations, Underboss. And to my wonderful daughter, the new wife—"

Leo ignored him completely. He walked right past Charles as if he were a ghost, leaving my father stammering in his wake.

Cassidy's eyes were glued to Leo. She stared at his terrifying, handsome face, utterly mesmerized. From the naked regret in her eyes, I knew she realized in that moment exactly what she had thrown away.

Capo Carlo cleared his throat sharply, a harsh, grating sound that forced Cassidy to look away.

"Dumb luck, Leo," Carlo mocked, stepping into our path. "Enjoy the sun while you can."

Leo stopped. He looked down at Carlo with a gaze so cold it could freeze blood.

"I am sorry to disappoint you and your treacherous mother." Leo's voice was smooth, deadly calm.

Before Carlo could respond, Leo violently pulled me flush against his side. His arm wrapped around my waist like a steel band, claiming me publicly in front of the entire rival faction.

He guided me firmly into the back of his waiting armored SUV. The heavy doors slammed shut, cutting off the outside world.

I looked out the tinted windows as the SUV pulled away. I saw Charles's pale, terrified face, and Carlo kicking the dirt in rage.

We had won the first battle of the Vendetta.