THE DON'S SECRET OBSESSION ( His Bride, Her Prison)

I never wanted any part in this. But I have no choice. With a deep sigh, I force down an invisible lump in my throat, looking up at the priest. I press my fingers tighter into the flower I am holding, hoping it hides how much I am shaking. Dreading the words the priest is about to utter. "Do you, Ariella Cecilia Boone, take Dermos Salvatore to be your lawfully wedded husband?" The priest asks. I blink. I badly want to say it, badly want to scream that I am not Ariella Cecilia Boone. My lips tremble as I force the truth down my throat, "Yes, I do." I murmur, my voice a little over a whisper. ~~~~ Ariel Hannah Boone didn't know what life had in store for her when she woke up on her twin sister's wedding day, only to find out her sister had run away. She went into panic when her mother insisted she take her place because Dermos Salvatore was no man to joke with. Dermos was the most feared Don in the whole of Sicily, one who killed without care. A blood thirsty murderer with no remorse. In an attempt to save her family from his wrath, she takes her sister's place at the wedding. Pain, suffering, and betrayal are all she knows the moment she became his. Secrets begin to unveil as she realises her family isn't what it seems. And when whispers of her sister's disappearance reach her, she finds out the truth. He never wanted Ariella; it had always been her. Ariel has to choose between a love built on lies or betraying her sister and family. She was his bride, and he was her prison, yet he would never let her go.

Chapters

Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

"Hey imposter, I know who you really are. And soon I will make sure he does too."

Blood drains from my entire body as I re-read the message over and over again.

Who the hell is this? And how did they know about me? Oh my god, what the heck am I going to do? I can't have Dermos find out about this.

No, it must be a prank. Without letting in too much thought, I press the delete button, and the message wipes off.

I press my hand forward, dragging myself off the floor where I stumbled. I quickly change into my nightwear, crawling into the pink, hideous bed to try and get some sleep.

The keyword being try. Sleep refuses to find me as I toss and turn around the sheets that won't stop itching me.

Thoughts fill my head with question upon question. Who sent me that message? Why did they send me such?

It didn't say anything about wanting something in return, so what was the purpose of the message? To scare me?

No, I don't think so.

If they wanted Dermos to know, then they would have just told him straight, so why send me that message?

And so the torture continued till about two am before I was finally able to fall asleep.

The sound of heavy knocking has me jolting up from sleep.

What the heck?

I pry my eyes open before quickly slamming them shut to prevent the assault of the unholy pink covers everywhere.

Why the hell is everything pink? I hate pink. I love dim, dark colours. I am about to grumble when the events of yesterday come crashing down.

Shit!!

I am Ariella.

"Excuse me, Mrs Salvatore, you have to wake up now. Mr Salvatore requests your presence in the dining room for breakfast." Someone calls from outside the door, banging harder.

Damn, what time is it? I reach forward to my bedside table for my phone.

6:50 am

What the heck? Breakfast at this time? Why? Are they chimpanzees or what?

I push my palm over my lips to stifle a yawn when, once again, a hard bang has me jolting.

"I AM COMING!! WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU? GET AWAY FROM MY DOOR!" I can't help the scream that tumbles out of my lips.

If there is one thing about me, it is that I hate waking up early; my earliest being ten.

After grumbling and cursing Ariella repeatedly for disappearing and putting me through this, I push my feet over the edge of the bed as I stalk out of the room.

The banging lady is still standing beside my door when I get there.

"I am sorry, Mrs Salvatore, but the don isn't patient." She mumbles, picking nervously at her fingernails.

"It's fine, lead the way." I hiss, using the back of my palm to scrub the last sleep off my eyes.

She nods and scurries off, leaving me to trail behind her. I am really too sleep-deprived to even take in the inside of the mansion, so I just trudge along, hoping for a tour later.

"Here, Mrs Salvatore." She stops in front of a huge door after taking me down a hideous number of stairs.

Urgh! I hate mornings.

I huff as I send my arm forward, pushing the door open.

"Wow!" I can't help the small gasps that tumble out of my lips at the sight of the long table with almost twenty chairs in it.

Did this man literally have a whole freaking room for just eating? Huh, mafia men are weird.

My eyes immediately find him at the head of the dining room, those eyes once again piercing my soul like he can see every hidden part of me.

I squirm under his intense gaze, raising my head high as I strut towards him.

Despite the outrageous time, Dermos is dressed in a grey Armani suit. An expensive watch decorating his wrist, my throat runs dry as I run my eyes over his hair part- Damnit, Ariel, no staring at your sister's husband.

I catch myself quickly, shuffling to sit down as a few heads turn to look at me with wide eyes.

Why, though? I am too sleep-deprived to care anyway.

My eyes scan the table filled with different dishes, but what really draws my attention is the peanut butter bagel that is placed directly in front of me as soon as I sit down.

It wouldn't be bad as it's Ariella's favourite, but I am allergic to it.

Shit! I snap my eyes forward, but he is already looking at me.

"Good morning Ariella, how was your night?" He asks, slowly taking a bite from his toast.

"It was very short." I snap, my irritation from being up so early rushing back.

"Oh well. New home, new rules. Breakfast is by seven or no breakfast at all." He states, barely glancing my way as he continues to eat.

Does he even like Ariella? He has barely looked at me or even spoken to me since we got married, except when he came to my–not mine– her room last night.

Wait? Is he pissed about that? Could he-

"Eat, I gather you love peanut butter," he instructs, interrupting my thoughts, still not looking at me.

A lump forms in my throat. Ariella loved peanut butter; there was certainly no way he hadn't seen her eat it once or twice. What would he think when I begin to turn purple in the face after a single bite?

I haven't touched peanut butter since it landed me in the hospital more than a decade ago. I am not about to start now.

I stare down at my plate for too long, only jolted when he clears his throat.

"You're not eating, Ariella." He is frowning slightly.

I bite my lower lip nervously. My hands start to shake slightly. How do I get out of this?

"Uh..."

I have to eat it. He will know I'm not Ariella if I don't.

But I can't. He will also know that I'm not her if I do.

Is this a setup? Did the unknown texter reach out to him also?

"Ariella?"

I snap back to focus. "I would like to have toast too." The words come flying out of my mouth before I can process them.

He raises a questioning eyebrow. "Really?"

"Yes." I breathe deeply, calming down my frayed nerves. "I've had enough peanut butter bagels to last a lifetime. I won't be eating another one any time soon."

The word pours out so naturally, leaving me amazed.

He nods. "Very well."

I find it hard to tell, but there appears to be a faint smile on his face. I blink, and it vanishes.

"As you wish," he adds.

"I'm grateful," I mutter. I reach forward for an empty plate.

I look up to see his eyes studying me. I'm gripped with anxiety and feel the need to explain.

"I don't know if I've said this, but I switch to a new favourite thing every now and then." I force myself into a smile, but I'm afraid it comes out as a grimace. "My system no longer agrees with peanut butter bagels."

"I don't care, Ariella. Just eat." His voice is almost cold.

I swallow. Am I doing a bad job? How did Ariella act when they had dinner together?

Oh God.

Continue to next part

On our wedding night, my Fated Mate, Alpha Cedric, left our bed to care for his mistress. He told me our marriage was just an obligation. But the real betrayal came months later on a rooftop. When Rogues demanded a trade, Cedric didn't hesitate. He chose to save Jayden because of her "heart condition," handing me—his pregnant wife—over to the killers. "You are stronger," he said as he pushed me toward them. I fell from the building. I survived, but our unborn pup didn't. Instead of comfort, I woke up to handcuffs. Cedric believed Jayden’s lies that I staged the kidnapping for attention. He threw me into the dungeon, shackling my wrists with silver cuffs that burned my flesh, while Jayden poisoned my food with wolfsbane. He stripped me of my title and dignity, never realizing that the "fragile" woman he protected was the true monster. He didn't know about the glowing rune on my chest counting down the seconds I had left. He didn't know I was the legendary White Wolf, and my time was up. On my final night, I asked for one last ride on the Ferris wheel where we first met. At midnight, as Cedric rushed back to the amusement park, he didn't find a body. He found only my empty clothes and a text message on the seat. "Don't look for me, Cedric. I'm giving my wolf back to the moon." As he watched the security footage, he finally saw me dissolve into stardust and ascend to the sky, leaving him alone in a world that suddenly felt too quiet.

Mafia Romance Werewolf

9.1

His Unwanted Fiancée Was His True Savior

9.1

I was standing in five thousand dollars of hand-stitched lace when I received the medical report. My fiancé, Dante de Rossi, the future Don of Chicago, had gotten another woman pregnant. He didn't apologize. He didn't beg. He looked me in the eye and called it a "strategic necessity." "Isobel saved my life five years ago," he said coldly. "I owe her this child. You will raise it as your own. It is the price of the Peace Treaty." He forced me to cancel our engagement photos so he could take them with her. He took her on the vacation meant for our honeymoon. At dinner, he ordered me the seafood risotto, completely forgetting my deadly shellfish allergy, while fussing over Isobel’s water temperature. When I tried to leave, he cornered me. "You are a mob wife, Nina. Act like one. She is the hero who saved me." I wanted to laugh. Because five years ago, in that alley, Isobel wasn't even there. I was the one in the mask. I was the one who stitched his femoral artery and saved his life, risking my own medical license. He was destroying our twenty-year relationship to pay a debt to a liar. I didn't scream. I didn't fight. I simply picked up a red marker and walked to the calendar. On the day of our wedding, while Dante stood at the altar waiting for his obedient Queen, I was already boarding a one-way flight to the other side of the world. I left him nothing but four words scrawled across the date: "Let's break up, Dante."

Action Mafia Romance

7.6

His Unwanted Wife, The Rival Don's Queen

7.6

The gunman pressed a Glock to my temple and gave my husband a choice. "One walks out. One stays. Choose, Mr. Underboss." I wasn't worried. I was Haven. I was his wife of ten years, his Consigliere, the woman who built his empire. Beside me sobbed Gemma, a fragile twenty-two-year-old he had known for six months. "Take Gemma! Leave Haven!" Connor screamed, his honor twisting into something unrecognizable. He walked out of the warehouse with another woman in his arms, leaving me to be butchered. I didn't wait for the bullet. I threw myself through a glass window into the freezing canal. I survived the fall, but the life inside me didn't. After five years of failed IVF, the miracle baby I hadn't even told Connor about was gone. While I lay in a cold hospital room, bleeding out the remains of our child, my husband was buying diamond earrings for the woman who had set me up to die. When the doctor tried to sedate me for the surgery, I grabbed his wrist. "No anesthesia," I commanded. "But the pain..." "I want to feel it," I said, staring at the ceiling. "I want to feel every scrap of him leaving my body." I burned that pain into my soul. Then, I went home, poured gasoline over our wedding bed, and lit a match. Two years later, I returned to the city. Connor thought I was dead. But when he saw me on the arm of his mortal enemy, wearing the crown of a rival Queen, he realized his mistake. He didn't just lose a wife. He started a war.

Mafia Modern Romance

8.6

Mafia Betrayal: Her Escape From Darkness

8.6

The Maybach glided through rain, Dante's cold cedar cologne a familiar comfort. Seven years, my life revolved around him, my fingers on his suit cuff, a silent promise. But tonight, our normal shattered with a single phone call. He answered, speaking rapid Italian – a language he thought I didn't understand. Every word: a death knell. Confirming his engagement to Sofia Moretti, dismissing me as a 'consolation prize.' Seven years of loyalty vanished. His loving mask back, he left for his fiancée. I stumbled into freezing rain, recalling my foster past. My numb fingers dialed his mother, Isabella, demanding fifty million for my silence. Her insults didn't sting. The true gut punch: Sofia's Instagram, a prenup on Dante's desk, proudly showing *my* watch, captioned: 'Fourteen days left.' This wasn't their celebration; it was my death sentence. I wouldn't stay another day in this gilded cage. My old duffel bag, packed, waited. The Australia brochure, a childhood dream, in my pocket. This time, I would live for myself, and they would all pay.

Action Mafia Modern

9.6

Marked by My Secondhand Delivery Wolf

9.6

To save on the outrageous wages of hired movers, I, Jade Lawson, bought a werewolf who had been returned three times from a secondhand trading site. The seller warned me he was vicious, wild, and prone to biting. What caught my eye wasn't his temperament. It was his build. Six foot three, solid muscle, the kind of body that looked like it could haul six hundred pounds of packages without breaking a sweat. When he arrived, he was indeed vicious. He kept sneaking into my room at night, pressing his scorching body against mine and grinding his teeth against the back of my neck. I thought he was teething. Or worse, developing rabies. I contacted the seller immediately to request a return. After hearing my description, the seller went quiet for a long time. "We don't recommend returning him." "He's not teething. Werewolves only feel the urge to bite the back of their mate's neck during their rut phase. It's a mate-marking instinct." "He wants you. He's trying to get you to bear his pups."

Mafia Romance Werewolf

7.3

Marrying The Rival: My Ex-Husband's Despair

7.3

I stood outside my husband's study, the perfect mafia wife, only to hear him mocking me as an "ice sculpture" while he entertained his mistress, Aria. But the betrayal went deeper than infidelity. A week later, my saddle snapped mid-jump, leaving me with a shattered leg. Lying in the hospital bed, I overheard the conversation that killed the last of my love. My husband, Alessandro, knew Aria had sabotaged my gear. He knew she could have killed me. Yet, he told his men to let it go. He called my near-death experience a "lesson" because I had bruised his mistress's ego. He humiliated me publicly, freezing my accounts to buy family heirlooms for her. He stood by while she threatened to leak our private tapes to the press. He destroyed my dignity to play the hero for a woman he thought was a helpless orphan. He had no idea she was a fraud. He didn't know I had installed micro-cameras throughout the estate while he was busy pampering her. He didn't know I had hours of footage showing his "innocent" Aria sleeping with his guards, his rivals, and even his staff, laughing about how easy he was to manipulate. At the annual charity gala, in front of the entire crime family, Alessandro demanded I apologize to her. I didn't beg. I didn't cry. I simply connected my drive to the main projector and pressed play.

Mafia Modern Romance

THE DON'S SECRET OBSESSION ( His Bride, Her Prison)

Chapter 3

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