A Bride for the Mafia Lord (eBook)

An Enemies-to-Lovers Forced-Marriage Story

Nooriva (Autor)

eBook Download: EPUB

2025 | 1. Auflage
234 Seiten
Publishdrive (Verlag)
978-0-00-111122-6 (ISBN)

Infos

'Victoria, do you take Vincenzo to be your lawfully wedded husband?' the priest asked.
I swallowed hard, forcing myself to speak.
'I do,' I whispered, barely audible.
Then the priest turned to Vincenzo.
Without a flicker of emotion, he answered, 'I do.'
'You may now kiss the bride.'
Vincenzo stepped closer and lifted my veil. His icy eyes locked onto mine, and just before his lips touched mine, he murmured in a low, chilling voice meant only for me:
'I don't care how much my family paid you to ruin my life, but I'll make sure you regret ever stepping foot here.'
Victoria Washington was already shattered-betrayed by the man she loved, dumped the day before his wedding... to her sister. Humiliated and mocked, she thought life had dealt her its final blow.
But fate had other plans.
She's broken. He's lost.
She's full of fear. He's the monster everyone warns her about.
And yet, somehow... he becomes her light, even while drowning in his own darkness.
Vincenzo Dante is determined to drag his family's name through the mud after they forced him into a marriage he never wanted. But what he doesn't realize is that his new wife is stronger than she appears-too wounded to shatter, too resilient to bend beneath his cruelty.
As unexpected feelings begin to bloom and long-buried secrets rise to the surface, they're forced to confront one question:
When love grows in the shadows, what happens when the truth finally steps into the light?
Book 1/ 3 in the Opposite Attract Mafia Romance Series.

Textauszug

Chapter     1

 

 Victoria Washington

 

 

 He wasn't coming.

 

 

 I could feel it in my bones. The hour was late, the candles on the table had burned down to nothing but stubs. My phone was still dead silent. The waitress's eyes lingered on me too long, giving me that sympathetic look, the one reserved for the pathetic girl who had been sitting alone for hours waiting. My fingers hovered over my phone, the screen still blank. No calls, no texts. Nothing.

 

 

 Today of all days----my birthday.

 

 

 I stood up slowly, my legs stiff from sitting too long, my heart heavier with each second that passed. I had dressed up for him. For us. Now I looked like a fool.

 

 

 I stepped out of the restaurant, the air biting against my skin like ice. I couldn't cry, not here. Not in public. But the tears were close. Too close.

 

 

 Maybe something happened to him. Maybe there's an explanation.

 

 Maybe...

 

 

 I swallowed the lies I was feeding myself, my mind too exhausted to believe them. I just wanted to go home. Sleep. Forget this night ever happened.

 

 

 But then, how can I?

 

 

 Exhaling, I dialed his number once again. One ring. Two. By the third, he picked up.

 

 

 "Hey babe," Clinton said, his voice strained but oddly calm, like nothing was wrong.

 

 

 I let out a shaky breath, relief flooding through me. "Where are you? I've been waiting at the restaurant for hours. You just... vanished."

 

 

 He paused, and I could hear rustling in the background. "I'm... I'm sorry, babe," he muttered, and for a moment, it sounded like he was moving, shuffling something around. "It's been a crazy day. I was on my way to see you, I swear, but----"

 

 

 "But what?" I cut in, my heart pounding in my chest. "It's my birthday and you just disappeared."

 

 

 "I know," he sighed, the words dragging out like he was barely holding onto the conversation. "Just that my car broke down and then my phone died. I tried to get it fixed, but everything just went to hell. Look, I'm sorry, okay? I promise to make it up to you."

 

 

 I blinked. "Your car broke down?"

 

 

 "Yeah, on that back road near Pinewood," he said, the lie rolling off his tongue so easily, so naturally, it almost sounded true. "You know, the one with no signal? I was stuck there for hours until some guys with a tow truck finally passed by."

 

 

 I frowned, a chill running down my spine. "Pinewood?" I repeated. "But... you're only ten minutes from my house. You could have just..."

 

 

 "I know," he cut me off quickly. "I should have called sooner. I'm an idiot, okay? But don't worry, I'm fine now. I'll come by tomorrow. We'll celebrate your birthday properly. Just... relax tonight, okay?"

 

 

 Something felt off. His voice was too rehearsed, too smooth, like he'd practiced this story in his head before picking up the phone.

 

 

 "What's that noise I'm hearing?" I asked suddenly, straining my ears to catch the sound. It was faint, but I could hear something----like soft laughter or music in the background.

 

 

 He went silent for a beat. Too long.

 

 

 "That's just... TV," he quickly said. "I'm at home, remember? Trying to wind down after this whole mess."

 

 

 My stomach twisted, that familiar feeling of doubt creeping back in. "Are you sure about what you're saying? Because it sounds like----"

 

 

 "Babe," Clinton interrupted again, sharper this time, but still trying to sound calm, "I'm telling you, it's nothing. You're overthinking this. I'm just trying to catch my breath after a shitty day, okay?"

 

 

 I swallowed hard, nodding even though he couldn't see me. "Okay," I whispered, trying to force the doubts away.

 

 

 "I will see you tomorrow, okay? I love you, Vicky."

 

 

 "I love you too," I murmured back, but the words felt hollow.

 

 

 When I hung up, I couldn't shake the nagging feeling that something was wrong. I didn't want to be blinded by emotions. I needed to know. I couldn't go to sleep with this knot in my chest, this dread eating me alive.

 

 

 So I drove.

 

 

 I don't know what possessed me to do it----to check on him. Maybe it was that gnawing intuition, or maybe it was I just needed to see him to feel better. To reassure myself that I was being paranoid.

 

 

 I drove to his house, gripping the steering wheel so tight my knuckles turned white. My mind spun with all the possibilities. Maybe I would get there and find him sick on the couch, just like he said. Maybe he'd just had a bad day.

 

 

 But then I pulled up to his house and all my hopes crumbled.

 

 

 His car was in the driveway.

 

 The lights were on.

 

 And the faint sound of laughter carried through the night air.

 

 

 I parked down the street, my heart pounding against my chest like a war drum. I crept up to the house, careful not to make a sound. With every step, I could feel the truth creeping closer, like a storm on the horizon.

 

 

 I reached the window and peered inside.

 

 And there they were----Clinton and Marianna, my sister.

 

 

 Not sitting on the couch this time, but wrapped around each other, lost in each other, like I never existed. His hands were on her waist, pulling her close, his lips trailing down her neck.

 

 

 The phone slipped from my fingers, clattering to the ground with a sickening thud.

 

 

 He lied. Again.

 

 

 "Clinton...?" I muttered, opening the door and stepping into the house. The whole place made me feel sick to the point I wanted to throw up. "What on earth is happening?"

 

 

 "Vicky? What the hell are you doing here?" Clinton's voice came out startled, his eyes widening in panic as he froze in place, like a child caught doing something unspeakable.

 

 

 My heart raced as Marianna turned to face me, her expression unfazed, almost amused. She wrapped her arms around his neck, standing on her toes to press her lips to his in a slow, deliberate kiss. "Oh, darling, did you forget to tell her?" she laughed, the sound slicing through the air. "Guess what, sister dearest----you're going to be my bridesmaid tomorrow! Surprise!"

 

 

 "What...?" My voice cracked. "What are you talking about?" My head started to spin, a sharp ache forming behind my eyes. "Is this some kind of joke?"

 

 

 Marianna's smile turned vicious, her eyes glinting with cruel satisfaction. "You're so pathetically naïve, Victoria. Clinton and I have been together for years. You've just been the sad, pitiful third wheel this whole time. Honestly, the sight of you disgusts me."

 

 

 Her words hit me like a punch to the gut, knocking the breath out of my lungs. I staggered back, my chest tightening. "But... but you're marrying into the Volkov family... what about that?" I turned to Clinton, desperation creeping into my voice. "Clinton, please... tell me she's lying."

 

 

 But instead of denial, Clinton's mouth twisted into a cold, condescending smile. "What's there to explain, Vicky? It's all true. I'm marrying her tomorrow. Maybe you should congratulate us." His tone was sharp, dismissive, as if my feelings didn't even register.

 

 

 I felt like the ground was crumbling beneath my feet. "How... how could you do this to me? After everything? After three years?"

 

 

 He shrugged casually, like it meant nothing. "You were just convenient, that's all."

 

 

 The world blurred as my tears finally broke free, rolling down my cheeks, hot and bitter. "Please... tell me this is some kind of sick joke," I whispered, my voice trembling, barely audible.

 

 

 Marianna's laughter was sharp, merciless. "Oh, Vicky, don't be so dramatic. You'll be fine. You always are. But do us all a favor and marry into the Volkov family, will you? That way, we'll be free to live our lives without your pathetic presence hanging around. You owe it to us, orphan."

 

 

 Her words were a dagger, twisting deep. My chest tightened painfully as I gasped for air, my hands clutching at the fabric over my heart as if trying to hold it together. Everything felt like it was shattering, breaking beyond repair. The betrayal, the lies----my own sister. How had I been so blind?

 

 

 Tears streamed down my face, uncontrollable now, as I stood there, feeling like my entire world was crashing down. "You... you both ruined me," I choked out. "I gave you everything."

 

 

 Clinton just scoffed, his eyes cold and detached. "You'll get over it, Vicky. You always do."

 

 

 But I wasn't sure if I ever could.

 

 

 "How dare you!" I screamed, my voice breaking as I swung my bag at him, tears already blurring my vision. He caught my...

Produkt-Details

• Erscheint lt. Verlag: 28.11.2025
• Sprache: englisch
• Themenwelt: Literatur ► Romane / Erzählungen
• ISBN-10: 0-00-111122-1 / 0001111221
• ISBN-13: 978-0-00-111122-6 / 9780001111226