The Consequential Bride Of the Mafia Lord

cel

as empty and quiet, but I barely noticed anything else as I walked down

nd the tears did

muttered under my breath, swi

weeks without realizing it. And I hated myself for it. I hated

't lik

re. But here I was, stopping right in the middle of the

my head and drew in a slow breath. Then anoth

ut." And just like tha

had been

he word ev

rd-winning medical journals, and debated men twice her age. I grew up watching

when she began

d just held. She laughed it off as stress and overwork, we all did. But then, w

this was after the fear had

ly stripping her of her memory, better judgment, and independence. She for

lp dressing, eating, and remembering her own husband and chil

hen my small heart was breaking. I loved her more than anythin

hate

st part. Because she

burden, Marcel," She wo

name that wasn't mine. And that broke my heart

was neve

one, depending on them, and then losing myself while

it, you had a fifty percent chance of passing it on to your offspring. There was no

ogist because of it. But control has limits. And latel

ly appearing in my mentors, senior colleagues,

d they used to wield effortlessly. I saw it in the way they walked into a room, forgetting why th

d it. Not just because I had lived it, but be

ng it, I was run

y Dom Vital

ctive. And certainly not because hi

al decline, no genetic red flags waiting to ambush a child I loved, and

pe. Low enough that it would give my child time to grow, to reme

d lived with since I was a teenager. If I fa

morning desperate for a baby. I was still whole-

s still mine. While I could choose, while I could

ility window c

d my chin. I was not going to let this opportunity g

life and tried to control every variable I could jus

this over w

I turned around and wal

ll it felt like it was chasing me. But I didn't slow down or think. Because

ose, so I pushed the door open withou

i was sti

rouser pocket and the other, holding his glass of gin. It

aybe, or something far worse. But he didn't speak. He only watched me with those sharp,

already feel my nerves slipping, fear an

I m

pty glass on the table. That was it. There were no more exits. This was the moment where you

go home,

ep towards him, then another. His dark and burning eyes followed me, tr

y mouth into his. For half a second, I thought he might push me away. But t

orld

ng I had been holding tight inside me suddenl

low in my stomach as his grip tightened, finge

hest, in my thighs, in the sharp hitch of my breath when his mouth m

new was the way his body felt solid and perfect against mine. The way I w

otions attached, but it wasn't. Not when my pulse was ever

is lips slowed just enough to make it worse, dragging against

eep holding me like this. How his dark and unreadable eyes burned int

r of u

ved into something tha

ng enough,"