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She Can't Be Tamed Novel Cover

She Can't Be Tamed

After losing her family to a brutal betrayal, Elena is forced into a dangerous alliance with the ruthless mafia heir, Dante Moretti. Bound by a marriage of convenience, she must navigate a world of luxury and lethal secrets. While Dante intends to break her spirit, Elena harbors a hidden agenda for vengeance. As their power struggle intensifies, a forbidden desire ignites, threatening to destroy the very empire they both seek to control.
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Chapter 1

A loud slap resonated through the room as Williams struck his daughter Arla across her face. He glared at her with fury in his eyes and said, "I've put up with your disrespectful behavior for too long. I took pity on you because your mother passed away when you were young, but it seems that I've spoiled you and given you too much freedom. How dare you ruin your sister's wedding? You've caused a rift between their company and mine!"

Arla stood her ground and replied, "You can watch your daughter marry a horrible man because of your own greed, but you know what? I just hate terrible people; they get on my nerves, so I decided to teach him a lesson."

Mia's mother Bella, infuriated by Arla's words, glared at her and exclaimed, "Look, she's not even sorry! You destroyed my daughter's wedding and still have the audacity to say such nonsense. You're an absolute disgrace!"

Arla, unfazed by Bella's anger, rolled her eyes and continued to chew gum while playing with her hair. Her blatant disregard for Bella's feelings only fueled the tension in the room.

"Get out! Get out of here!" Williams shouted at Arla, his patience wearing thin. With a smirk, Arla stared at Bella before turning and exiting the room.

As Arla walked through the hallway, Mia suddenly pulled her into a room and hugged her tightly. Arla pushed her away, a disgusted look on her face. "Too much PDA, ugh!" she complained. Mia, undeterred by Arla's reaction, smiled and said, "Thank you! I didn't want to marry that old man. You really saved me!"

Arla stretched out her hands expectantly. Mia, grinning, handed her a bundle of money. Arla sat on the bed and began counting it, but Mia interrupted her. "You don't need to count it. Don't you trust me? I even added more for the extra service."

Arla looked up at Mia. "He slapped me on my cheeks," she said, holding out her hands again. "Medical fees."

Mia shook her head, smiling. "What do you need this money for, anyway?" she asked.

Arla stood up after taking the extra bundle from Mia and replied, "Your father cut my allowance for three months," before shutting the door and leaving the room.

As Arla exited the room, she encountered her father's new mistress, Esme, who was deliberately avoiding her. Esme walked past Arla without even acknowledging her presence. Provoked, Arla called out, "Hey! Number 5!"

Esme turned around, irritated, and retorted, "I told you to stop calling me that!"

Arla, feeling an irresistible urge to stir up trouble, approached Esme and asked with a smirk, "What else would I call you? Hmmm, sugar baby? Orrrr..." she continued, intentionally dragging out the 'r' sound, "daddy stealer?"

Esme, growing increasingly annoyed, shot back, "Just wait until I give him an heir. You'll be the first person I'll kick out of this mansion!"

Arla burst into laughter, mocking Esme's threat. "You can't give that old man a boy; he doesn't have it in his genes. Unless you plan on bringing him a child that isn't his," she taunted before leaving Esme fuming with rage.

Later that night, Arla returned home well after midnight, still buzzing from a wild night of partying at the club. She was dressed provocatively, wearing a very short mini skirt and a top that exposed her cleavage. Arla was a tall, slim, medium-toned woman with dark hair, brown eyes, and an enticing figure she never hesitated to show off. Her preference for skimpy dresses, skirts, and crop tops reflected her bold personality.

William, her father, having grown weary of her behavior, made a phone call to Madam Laurette, a powerful woman known for her ruthless nature. As she answered the call, he conceded, "I'll accept your deal. Let's arrange the marriage between my youngest daughter, Arla, and your stepson, Liam."

The following morning, William summoned Arla to his office. She tied her hair into a ponytail and donned a black gown that hugged her figure and fell just above her knees. Chewing gum nonchalantly, she entered the office, greeting her father with a casual, "Hi, Mr. Williams."

He looked up at her, shaking his head in exasperation. "You're getting married this weekend," he informed her, expecting some form of resistance.

Arla, unfazed by the news, simply replied, "Okay."

Taken aback by her apparent indifference, William felt compelled to emphasize the gravity of his words. "No funny business this time around, or I will lock you up in a disciplinary home," he threatened.

Arla, undeterred by her father's warning, smiled and approached his desk. "You know threats don't work on me," she said before turning to leave the office.

William sighed, feeling exhausted by his daughter's unyielding behavior, and shifted his focus back to his work.

Meanwhile, at Liam's mansion, Laurette stormed into his office and tossed a file onto his desk. "You're marrying her this weekend," she announced, her tone brooking no argument. "No ceremony, just signing at the registry." With that, she turned on her heel and strode out of the room.

Liam's relationship with his stepmother was complicated; they shared a love-hate dynamic, yet he never disrespected her. After all, there had been a time in his life when Laurette had saved him from death. Still, this didn't mean they always saw eye to eye.

As a mafia leader, Liam was known for his ruthless nature and penchant for womanizing. However, there was one woman in his life who meant more to him than any other—Vivian. None of his mistresses dared to cross her, knowing full well that doing so would be tantamount to disobeying Liam himself.

The weekend arrived, and Arla entered the registry accompanied by Mia, Bella, and her father, William. There, they met Liam, a tall and well-built man with dark skin, a neat low-cut hairstyle, and an impeccably tailored suit that accentuated his physique. His hardened gaze revealed his readiness to sign the marriage documents.

Upon seeing Liam, Mia raised her eyebrows and smiled at Arla. "Dad must love you so much to set you up with such a hunk," she whispered.

Arla, unimpressed, replied, "Not bad."

Arla strode in wearing a short white gown that Mia had insisted she wear for the occasion. She took her seat beside Liam, and once the signing was complete, Mia approached her.

"I'm going to miss you, Arla," Mia said, pulling her into a hug.

Bella interrupted, tugging Arla away from Mia. "Why would you miss this troublemaker?" Bella asked, feigning exasperation. "I'm going to throw a party to celebrate her departure from the mansion today!" she exclaimed, unable to contain her excitement.

Arla scoffed at Bella's comment and then turned her attention to Liam, who had been observing her with a piercing gaze. She winked at him playfully.

Just then, Laurette approached the group. "New bride, let's go," she said, addressing Arla.

Arla, disliking Laurette's chosen form of address, responded curtly, "I'm Arla, not 'new bride.'"

Unfazed by Arla's retort, Laurette simply entered her car, and the bodyguards opened the doors for Arla and Liam. The newlyweds joined Laurette, and the vehicle drove off.

During the ride, Arla sat across from Liam, who had yet to utter a single word to her since they had signed the marriage documents. Growing impatient, she asked, "Are you mute?"

Liam remained silent.

"He must be deaf," Arla mused aloud. "I knew this was too good to be true. When that old man married me off, I thought I'd finally met my Prince Charming. Instead, he married me to someone deaf and dumb."

Liam's voice cut through the silence, laced with a hint of warning. "Keep quiet," he said, gesturing for her to stop talking.

Arla, undeterred by Liam's warning, tutted in response. "You know, it's very rude to shush someone. How would you feel if I called you a bastard?"

As if her words had struck a nerve, Liam glared at her and said, "Are you asking for death?"

Arla, unfazed by his threat, replied, "Threats don't work on me, Mr. Husband. Just don't ever shush me again." She leaned back in her chair, satisfied with her bold declaration.

Liam stared at her, a hint of amusement in his gaze. Never before had someone dared to speak to him with such audacity.

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