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Vows of the Mafia King

Vows of the Mafia King

Veronica lodge

5.0
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20
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In the shadowed canals of Venice, where power and betrayal go hand in hand, Isabella Frost is forced into a dangerous pact to save her family from ruin. An arranged marriage to the infamous Noah Bennett, the ruthless mafia king, is her only salvation and her greatest curse. Noah is as lethal as he is captivating, a man who holds the city in his iron grip and hides his pain behind a mask of control. To him, Isabella is a pawn in a high stakes game of vengeance and dominance. But the more he tries to keep her at arm's length, the more she unravels the man beneath the monster. As passion ignites between them, secrets long buried rise to the surface. Isabella discovers her family's dark connection to the tragic past that fuels Noah's thirst for revenge, forcing her to choose between loyalty and the dangerous love she can't deny. But in a world ruled by blood and betrayal, love is a double edged sword, and the lines between savior and destroyer blur. When the truth comes to light, will Isabella and Noah survive the ultimate betrayal or will their love burn them both to ashes?

Chapter 1 1

The sound of her heels clicking against the marble floor echoed through the grandiose hallway, every step a reminder of the decision she had no choice but to make. Isabella Frost kept her chin high, her icy-blue eyes betraying no emotion as she approached the gilded doors at the end of the corridor. The weight of her father's desperate plea still clung to her like a heavy cloak.

"Save us, Isabella. You're the only one who can."

She had wanted to scream at him, demand why it had to be her. Why she was being offered as a sacrificial lamb to a man who thrived on fear and bloodshed. But instead, she had nodded, swallowing her resentment like poison, and donned the elegant black dress that now clung to her like armor.

The two guards stationed by the doors didn't bother asking her name. Her presence was expected. One of them opened the door without a word, and Isabella stepped into the lion's den.

The room was dimly lit, the glow from a crystal chandelier casting fractured light over the polished wood floors and antique furniture. The air was thick with the scent of expensive cigars and danger.

And there he was.

Noah Bennett sat at the head of the long mahogany table, a glass of whiskey in his hand, his dark eyes sharp as a predator's. He was every bit as intimidating as the rumors claimed-tall, broad-shouldered, and dressed in a tailored black suit that hinted at power and ruthlessness. His jet-black hair was combed back, exposing a chiseled jawline and lips that looked like they could whisper promises or deliver death sentences with equal ease.

He didn't rise to greet her. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, his gaze roaming over her with a slow, deliberate intensity that made her skin prickle.

"So," Noah said, his voice smooth as silk but laced with something dangerous, "this is the Frost family's last desperate move."

Isabella's jaw tightened, but she refused to flinch. She crossed the room with measured grace and stopped a few feet from the table, meeting his gaze with a defiance she knew would amuse him.

"This isn't desperation," she said evenly. "It's strategy."

His lips curved into a cold smile. "Is that what you tell yourself to sleep at night?"

She hated the way his voice seemed to curl around her, as if testing her resolve. She forced herself to stand taller, refusing to let him see the crack in her armor.

"I'm here because you demanded it," she said. "Let's not pretend this is my choice."

Noah chuckled, a low, dangerous sound that sent a shiver down her spine. He set his glass down and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table.

"Choices are a luxury in our world, Miss Frost. Surely you've learned that by now."

She bristled but said nothing. The tension in the room was palpable, a silent battle of wills playing out between them.

Finally, Noah gestured to the chair across from him. "Sit."

For a moment, she considered refusing, just to see how far she could push him. But the memory of her father's pale, desperate face was a sobering reminder of what was at stake. She lowered herself into the chair, keeping her posture rigid and her expression carefully neutral.

"I assume your father explained the terms of our arrangement," Noah said, his tone conversational, as if they were discussing business over coffee and not the fact that she was about to become his unwilling bride.

"He did," she said curtly.

"And you agreed."

"I didn't have much of a choice."

Noah's dark eyes glinted with amusement. "I like your honesty. It's refreshing."

"I'm not here to impress you," she snapped before she could stop herself.

His smile widened, but there was no warmth in it. "You already have."

The words hung in the air between them, heavy with implication. Isabella clenched her fists in her lap, her nails digging into her palms.

"What do you want from me?" she demanded, her voice colder than she intended.

"Many things," Noah said, his gaze boring into hers. "But for now, your obedience."

Her stomach churned, but she refused to let him see her fear. "And what do I get in return?"

He leaned back in his chair, studying her with a predator's patience. "Your family's debts will disappear. Your father will keep his life. And you...you'll gain my protection."

"Protection from what?"

"From everyone who would love to see the Frost family wiped off the map," he said casually, as if discussing the weather. "You've made enemies, Isabella. Powerful ones. Marrying me will shield you from them."

"And if I refuse?" she asked, though she already knew the answer.

Noah's smile disappeared, replaced by a look that sent a chill down her spine. "You won't."

The silence that followed was deafening. Isabella felt as though the walls were closing in on her, the weight of her decision suffocating. But she couldn't back out now. Not when her family's survival depended on it.

"You may have forced me into this," she said finally, her voice trembling despite her best efforts, "but don't think for a second that I'll let you control me."

Noah's eyes darkened, and for a moment, she thought she saw a flicker of something-respect, perhaps?-in his gaze. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared.

"We'll see about that," he said softly, his tone both a promise and a warning.

Before she could respond, the door opened, and a man in a gray suit stepped inside. He was tall and wiry, with sharp features and a clipboard in hand.

"Everything is ready, Mr. Bennett," the man said.

Noah nodded, rising to his feet. He extended a hand to Isabella, his expression unreadable. "Shall we?"

Her heart pounded as she stared at his outstretched hand. She wanted to run, to scream, to do anything but take it. But she couldn't.

She reached out and placed her hand in his, the contact sending a jolt through her. His grip was firm, his skin warm against hers.

As he led her toward the door, she felt as though she were walking toward her own execution.

But one thought kept her moving forward: she might have been forced into this marriage, but she wouldn't let Noah Bennett break her.

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