Substitute Bride: Taming The Masked Mafia Don

Cleo POV:

I was dragged back from the countryside by my father for one purpose: to be a sacrificial lamb.

He ordered me to marry the mafia Don Damien Valachi in place of my sister. Everyone in the underworld knew that this Don's brides never saw the light of the next day. My stepmother put on a fake smile and took my hand, calling it an "honor"; my sister hid behind her, unable to conceal the gleam of triumph in her eyes.

I smiled coldly and held up two fingers: "Twenty million dollars. Now."

My father tried to play tricks, planning to take back the money from my trust fund after I died, but I had someone transfer every cent out before the wedding, leaving him a zero balance.

The next day, the wedding car pulled up to the Valachi estate. The butler ordered the driver to use the service entrance—it seemed my groom didn't think I was worthy of the front gate.

I got out and switched to an armored vehicle. I floored the accelerator, crashing straight through the estate gates. The gates shattered, and I didn't stop until I reached the main steps. I jumped out, the heel of my shoe crushing a broken iron railing, and shouted:

"The bride is here."

I looked up, scanning every window until my gaze stopped on one dark pane. I knew Damien was watching.

I brushed the dust off my skirt, raised my voice a notch, and smiled: "What, the Don of the Valachi family doesn't dare come out to meet his new wife?"

***

"You will marry Damien Valachi in Jalynn's place."

My father's—no, my adoptive father, Burdette Jennings's—voice cut through the thick, suffocating air of the study. It wasn't a request. It was a command, delivered with the casual authority of a man used to getting his way.

It had been a month since that hypocritical family dinner. This was the first time in a month that Burdette had spoken to me—telling me to marry a stranger.

Ever since they adopted me from the countryside, I had been living in a small, shabby hut on the edge of the estate, and I was only allowed into the main house when they needed to put on a show of family harmony to the outside world. Burdette's voice was restrained, but I had long seen through his contemptuous gaze. If they didn't need something from me, they would never have set foot here.

Behind Burdette, my sister, Jalynn, peeked out from behind her mother, Anita. A flicker of triumph, quickly masked by feigned concern, flashed in her eyes.

"Oh, Cleo," she simpered, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "For the family. You're so brave."

Anita stepped forward, her perfectly manicured hands reaching for mine. Her face was a mask of maternal love, a role she played with nauseating skill. "Cleo, darling. This is your duty. You know, your birth is nothing special. Marrying a Don is a far better match than you could ever hope for. An honor, really."

That wasn't an honor. It was a lie. What I knew was that Jalynn had given her heart to another man, and the Jenningses simply refused to let their precious daughter be wed to Damien—a crippled Don, and everyone knew it.

I had heard this performance a hundred times before. The saccharine tone, the painted concern, the way her eyes never quite reached mine—it was all a script she'd perfected for the sole purpose of her own convenience. But today, I refused to play my part.

I shifted my weight, just enough. Her fingers grazed empty air.

"You speak of charity, Anita, but we both know who's begging now. What makes you think I would gladly accept this marriage?"

The mask cracked. Her painted smile tightened into a snarl.

"You ungrateful whelp! We gave you food and clothes! We gave you a roof over your head! If it weren't for your pretty face, we would never have brought you back. Without us, you'd be rotting in some ditch by now!"

Anita's hand flew up, aimed for my cheek.

I caught her wrist.

It was a simple movement, clean and precise. But the strength behind it made her gasp. Her eyes widened, first in shock, then in pain, as my fingers dug into the delicate bones. The color drained from her face.

"Let go of me!" she shrieked, struggling. "How dare you!"

Jalynn stumbled back, her hip knocking against the heavy oak desk with a dull thud. She stared at me as if I'd grown a second head.

"Cleo!" Burdette's voice was a whip crack. "Release your mother."

I let go. Anita's arm dropped to her side as if it were made of lead. I flexed my fingers, dismissing the contact like brushing away a fly.

Ignoring her whimpering, I met Burdette's furious gaze. The air crackled with unspoken violence.

Then, I smiled. A cold, sharp thing.

"I'll marry him."

The tension in the room snapped. Relief washed over their faces, smug and self-satisfied. They thought they'd won.

"But not for the family," I continued, my voice low and even. "For the money."

Anita's eyes blazed with fury. "You want money? You think you've won something, you little bastard?" she spat, her voice trembling with rage. "Once you're married to that cripple, he'll break you. And when he does, don't expect anyone to come for you. You'll be forgotten, just like you always were. You were never part of this family—you were just a placeholder. A scapegoat. And when they're done with you, you'll be nothing."

I couldn't care less about her incessant whining—it's nothing but a mosquito's buzz to me.

I held up two fingers. "Twenty million dollars. Cash. Wired to my Swiss account."

I let the number hang in the air, a beautiful, obscene thing.

"This is the price for my life."

Burdette's face went from red to purple. A vein throbbed in his temple. "Are you insane? Who the hell do you think you are?"

"I'm the daughter you dragged back from the countryside to die in your place," I said, my voice dropping to a near whisper. I took a step closer, invading his personal space. The scent of his expensive, cloying cologne filled my nostrils. "And this life is worth exactly that much."

I leaned in, my voice so low only he could hear. "Or perhaps you'd prefer I tell the Valachi family that their intended bride, Miss Jalynn Jennings, has been warming another man's bed for the last six months?"

That was the kill shot.

His pupils contracted to pinpricks. He knew. Of course he knew. He just never imagined I would.

The blood drained from Burdette's face, leaving it a pasty, terrified white. Anita, who had been rubbing her wrist, froze, her eyes wide with a primal fear I recognized instantly. It was the fear of total ruin.

Burdette's gaze was locked on mine, searching, pleading, threatening. He saw nothing but a placid, frozen lake.

A long, suffocating silence stretched. The only sound was the frantic ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner, counting down the seconds of his crumbling authority.

"What... do you know?" he finally rasped, the words torn from his throat.

I shrugged, a casual gesture that belied the steel in my spine. "Enough to burn the Jennings name to the ground. So. Twenty million. Do we have a deal?"

Sweat beaded on his upper lip. He saw it then. The girl he'd left to rot in obscurity was gone. In her place stood something he couldn't control, couldn't predict, and couldn't afford to fight.

He closed his eyes, a shudder running through his expensive suit. When he opened them, they were filled with a toxic mix of humiliation and murder.

"Fine," he bit out. "I'll give it to you."

I knew what he was thinking. Let her have it. Once she's dead, it all comes back to me anyway.

Fools.

I turned my back on them, the performance over. I walked to the door, my steps measured and unhurried. My hand on the brass knob, I paused.

"The money needs to be in my account before the wedding tomorrow," I said, not bothering to look back. "If it's not, the whole world will know just how dirty the Jennings' laundry really is."

I opened the door and walked out, leaving the wreckage of their perfect little family behind me.

In the hallway, I heard Burdette's muffled voice on the phone, low and venomous.

"Get the twenty million ready... And yes. The plan remains the same."

I let the heavy door click shut, a sound like a tomb sealing.

Let them plan. They had no idea who they were dealing with.