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When The Devil Fell For The Wrong Bride Novel Cover

When The Devil Fell For The Wrong Bride

Forced into a marriage meant for her sister, Elara enters a dangerous union with Silas Vane, the city's most ruthless mafia kingpin. Silas expects a submissive pawn, but Elara’s hidden resilience sparks an unexpected obsession. As lethal conspiracies and underworld wars threaten to tear them apart, the line between captor and protector blurs. In a world of blood and betrayal, can a mistake lead to the most powerful alliance of all?
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Chapter 3

Ariella’s POV

Pain was the first thing I felt when I opened my eyes.

It burned across my shoulder through my back as if I was thrown into fire . Every breath I took sent a sting through my body.

The memory of the beating came rushing back. Marco’s anger, his hands grabbing my hair, dragging me down, the sound of his palm against my cheek.

His words were still echoing in my head. “You little liar!”

I tried to sit up, but the pain in my ribs made me mourn. The room was quiet now. The heavy footsteps and shouting had faded. Only the soft tick of a clock filled the air.

Vincenzo was still standing by the door.

His gray eyes looked colder than steel, but there was something else beneath them. Something I couldn’t name. Guilt maybe, or anger……

He didn’t say a word. He just looked at me, his jaw tight, the veins in his hand visible.

Finally, his voice came out low. “Are you hurt?”

I didn’t answer. I was shaking in pains.

He turned slightly toward the door and called,“Elena.”

His voice vibrated through the room with command. Moments later, the same girl who had come to take me for supper appeared in the doorway. She still wore that same faint, practiced smile.

“Clean her wounds,” Vincenzo said sharply. “Make sure she’s fine.”

“Yes, sir,” she replied quietly.

Then he left, the door closing behind him.

Elena walked closer to where I was lying, carrying a small first aid box with a small bowl of warm water, some ointment, and a clean towel. She knelt beside the bed and the smell of her perfume, faint and floral filled the room.

“You need to take off your blouse,” she said gently. “You’re bleeding.”

I hesitated. My hands shook as I unbuttoned the top part, groaning in pain as the fabric touched the raw skin on my shoulder. Elena gasped softly when she saw the bruises.

“Oh, sorry dear,” she whispered. “He hit you harder than I thought.”

Her voice was shaking slightly, as if the pain she saw wasn’t just mine, it was something she had known too many times herself.

She dipped the towel inside the water and pressed it against my back. The sting was unbearable. I screamed with a loud voice, grabbing the bedsheet tight.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she said quickly, her hands shaking. “I’ll take it easier this time. Just a little more, okay?”

Tears rolled down my cheeks as she cleaned the wounds. The silence between us felt heavy, filled with something unseen, something dark.

When she finished, she reached for the ointment and began to rub it carefully on the bruises. Her touch was light, but her eyes looked tired like someone remembering old pain.

“What’s your name?” I managed to ask, with a faint voice.

She paused for a moment, then said softly, “Elena.”

“How long……How long have you been in this terrible place?”

Her hand stopped. Then she sighed. “Five years.”

Tears started falling from her eyes. “My father owed Don Moretti a debt. A huge amount of money. He tried to pay it back, but he couldn’t. And Don Moretti forced him to pay with what he has.”

My breath caught. “And they… took you?”

She nodded slowly, her voice breaking. “They said if he couldn’t pay with money, he would pay with his daughter, and that was me.”

My stomach twisted. “And he didn’t come for you?”

A single tear fell down her cheek. “He tried. But they killed him.”

The words hit me like a knife and I became terrified.

She continued, her tone low and shaking. “Since then, I’ve been here. Doing whatever they ask. Cleaning. Serving. And warming their bed. I stopped counting the days a long time ago.”

They turned me into their plaything. Don Moretti, Vincenzo and Marco would sleep with me anytime and anywhere. But Vincenzo stopped, he showed a sign of weakness sometimes.

Many girls who fell the same victim with me, and refused to obey or proved to be stubborn were killed in our front. Just to frighten us.

My heart ached for her. She was young, maybe a little older than me yet her eyes looked like someone who had lived a hundred lives.

She wiped her face quickly, forcing a smile on her face.“You shouldn’t ask too many questions, Ariella. It’s dangerous.”

“But why? Why are you still here? Why didn't you run?”

She gave a small, bitter laugh. “Run? How? There’s nowhere to go. This house doesn’t let people leave. Not alive, at least.”

My throat tightened.

The ones who tried to fight back or escape…” she trailed off, shivering. “They made sure the rest of us saw what happens to those who don’t obey.”

I could feel her pain more than the one I had.

She pressed the towel one last time on my shoulder, making me mourn in pain again. “You’re lucky he stopped Marco,” she whispered.

“Vincenzo…… he’s unlike his father but Marco, he's the worst. He never wasted time to kill whenever his father gave orders. But yet Don Moretti liked Vincenzo more than Marco.

I frowned through the pain. “Then why doesn’t he stop them?”

Elena gave a sad, hopeless smile. “Because mercy in this house is weakness. And weakness is punished.”

I looked down at my hands shaking, anger and fear twisting inside me. If only Luciana knew the pain I'm passing through here. She wouldn't have brought the idea of switching with me. She should have thought about another solution.

She looked at me with wide, frightened eyes. You have to be careful Ariella, they won't waste time in killing you.

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