The Mafia King's Pregnant Captive Bride

Chapter 4

Word Count: 707 | Released on: Today at 10:06

before. I was trapped in the arms of the devil, my heart ham

d, feeling like a bar of solid iron. I could feel the rigid tension in his muscles,

control. I could see it in th

amien said, his voice a low, vibrating rumble that sent a shi

ar. His breath was hot, smelling faintly of expensive whiskey a

veins. It was a trap, a poisoned

of woodsmoke was replaced by the suffocating stench of copper and gu

o her chest. She was sobbing, begging the towering Falcone Soldier standing over them. *I'll do anything,* she

submissive, broken answ

t her. *"The Don has no use for a cow

eafening crack

very *Vendetta*. The lesson from that night was carved into my bones: in their world, subservience was useless. And t

he couldn't get from Cecil

owly, I lifted my chin and did the one thing Bertha had explicitly

that surprised even me, "is to give you a son with fire in his veins. An

ction of space between us until m

e," I whispered fiercely.

d scrutiny in his gaze fractured, replaced by something infinitely darker

rmured, his gaze dropping to my mo

e a chance to pr

conquest. It was brutal, hot, and entirely consuming. His lips parted mine with ruthless precision, tasting of whiskey and absolut

room seemed to spin. The sheer, terrifying dominance of the Underboss w

hing feral, a sharp, frantic knock h

through the thick wood, tigh

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The Mafia King's Pregnant Captive Bride

Rutledge Shepp Mafia

“I am the last surviving Rossi, a hostage kept alive solely to be a breeding vessel for the rival Falcone mafia family. The Underboss's wife, Cecile, stripped me bare, slapped me fiercely, and forced me into black lace to warm her husband's bed. "You are nothing but a temporary container to breed the heir I cannot give my husband." She planned to steal my future child and dispose of me the moment I served my purpose. In this ruthless estate, her maids and Damien's mistresses mocked me constantly, waiting for the dirty Rossi leftover to be discarded like trash. I remembered my family begging for mercy right before they were slaughtered by Falcone soldiers. Submission in their world only meant a faster execution. Why should I just accept my fate as a disposable incubator while the monsters who ruined my bloodline paraded as untouched royalty? Instead of cowering, I mercilessly rubbed my bruised cheek until it turned a vicious purple, biting my lip until it bled. I walked into Damien's study, looking the ruthless Underboss dead in the eye. "Cecile can give him a name, but I will give him a spine." When Damien saw my ruined face and heard my defiance, the cold monster finally snapped. He didn't just protect his property; he publicly stripped his wife of her power, banished his mistresses, and locked the family's reigning sapphires around my neck. Cecile thought she was sending me to the slaughterhouse, but she had just handed me the throne.”