Contracted to the Mafia Don

za'

presence next to me- like a shadow that stretched across the entire car. His cold, dark energy seeped into my bones, making me shiv

eight of that decision was crushing me. Every moment felt like an eternity, and I wa

finally managed to ask,

f second before he returned his focus

he spoke, as though everything was a part of some grand design, and I was nothing more than a pawn in his game. He c

. The gates were tall, with black iron bars adorned with intricate designs, and the dri

entrance. This was his world. The world I had just s

, a symbol of wealth and power. I could see why Damien was feared. This was

him. My legs felt weak, my mind clouded with uncertainty, but I

ealing a woman in a black suit. She greeted

e smooth, his eyes never leaving mine as I st

he replied, her voice clipped. "

and motioned for me to f

lighting, chandeliers that hung like pieces of art, and walls adorned with expensive paintings. It was a house meant fo

m and controlled, as if he were in his element. I, on the other hand, felt like an intruder in a worl

rned to me, his expression unreadable, but there

ng," he said, pushing the door open. "Ge

his place-the place where Damien controlled everything-was terrify

for someone like me. The walls were a deep shade of burgundy, and heavy curtains covered the windows. There was a large, ornate

oice once again devoid of emotion. "Dinner will b

I said would be pointless. I could already tell that this marriage-this arrangement- wouldn't be one of mutu

ced back at me. "Oh, and Eliza?" he said, his voic

ke a heavy cloak. My life was no longer my own. My choices no longer mattered. This was my reality now, an

I gotten here? How had I let it get this far? I had made a cho

from my spiraling thoughts. I had to pull myself together. For my

amien Viera? Could I survive b

had to find a way to survive. To navigate this new world whe

reflection stared back at me-a woman who had made a choice.

val came at a price... A

en's

e it, but I could see the fear in her eyes. It was the kind of fear that wasn't born from weakness, but from

. She was mine now, whether she liked it or not, and she would learn to accept it. But

gged or cried by now, but Eliza wasn't like that. She had a fir

this path, and now she would have to walk it. She thought she could survive me-she thought she could play

d learn quickly that in this world, I