Forced To Be The Mafia's King Bride

Chapter 3: Antonio Delvecchio

[Antonio's POV]

I adjusted my posture against the leather seat of the SUV, the heavy thrum of the engine vibrating through my boots as the rain turned violent outside. We were minutes from the Ashford gates.

To collect a debt. Not just cash, but blood.

Vance thought this was a routine visit. He had no idea the trap had snapped shut weeks ago. The casino where he’d blindly gambled away the offshore accounts, the shipping lines, and the title to his family estate didn't just happen to hold his markers—it belonged to me. I had systematically fed his addiction, bleeding him dry until he had nothing left to lose.

But it wasn’t enough to forgive him. I wanted revenge.

Assets liquidation wasn't the goal. Cash meant nothing. I wanted Vance Ashford on his knees, begging for the very mercy he had denied Alessia when he murdered her.

Even now, whenever I close my eyes, her screams echoed in the dark, tearing through my head like a physical blade.

I slid my hand into my breast pocket and pulled out the small, worn photograph. Her chestnut hair fell in thick, wavy cascades over her shoulders, and her dark brown eyes practically radiated light.

She's Vance's daughter….

Sloane Ashford…… She was the price I'm going to collect today.

I’ll make Vance watch as I take everything from him, and his precious daughter will help me achieve that.

I lived by a single, unyielding law: an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, blood for blood.

The rain hit the roof of the SUV like a fist.

I pulled my leather gloves tight over my knuckles and stared out the window. The Ashford estate was large, but the stone walls looked old and weak under the lightning.

"We are through the gates, boss," Enzo said from the front passenger seat. "Ashford's security is at the door."

"Tell the men to move out," I commanded, my voice flat. "No mistakes."

The SUV lurched to a violent halt by the central stone fountain, its heavy frame completely pinning Vance’s silver sports car against the masonry. Enzo stepped out into the freezing downpour, instantly pulling open my door and snapping a black umbrella over my head..

A dozen of my soldiers moved past me in a flawless, silent formation, drawing their weapons in unison. Across the courtyard, Ashford’s hired guards stood on the grand porch, their hands shaking so violently that their gun barrels visibly bounced against the floodlights..

The front doors banged open, and Vance Ashford stumbled down the stone steps. His silk tie was completely loose, his expensive garments soaked through with mud and rain. He looked utterly pathetic.

"Antonio! Please!" Ashford shouted over a crack of thunder, sprinting toward the convoy with his hands raised in a frantic gesture of surrender. "The offshore accounts—the shipping lines—I can explain everything! Just give me more time!"

He was still talking, still pleading, but I caught the slight, desperate twitch of his fingers. From the corner of my eye, I tracked his movement—Vance had just given a subtle, frantic signal to the upper terrace. Two of his guards slowly began to elevate their rifles, their fingers sliding toward the triggers.

A cruel, slow smirk tugged at the corner of my mouth. The man was either getting too old for this business, or he truly believed I was blind.

I lifted my left hand.

Ashford stopped dead in his tracks, his jaw hanging open as my men locked onto him.

Without breaking eye contact from his face, I extended my right palm. "Enzo. The gun."

The cold, familiar steel of the gun slipped smoothly into my leather-gloved grip. Ashford’s face went entirely white and he stumbled back a step as if expecting a bullet between his eyes. But I didn't point the weapon at him. I aimed past his ear, directly at the terrace.

BANG.

A security guard shrieked on the steps, dropping his rifle into the mud as he collapsed, clutching his thigh.I shifted my wrist a fraction of an inch to the left.

BANG.

A second guard dropped onto the wet gravel, groaning in agony. The remaining men immediately threw their weapons into the dirt, backing into the shadows with their hands held high.

Vance choked, dropping directly onto his knees in the mud. Every ounce of his manufactured pride evaporated into the rainwater rushing over the stones.

I stepped forward, closing the distance until my shadow completely blanketed his shivering frame, and lowered the hot barrel of the gun to his forehead.

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't f*****g kill you right now."

My voice was a low, frozen murmur, completely devoid of mercy. Ending him here would be too easy, too quick. I intended to drag his torment out until he begged me to kill him

Before he could offer another pathetic excuse, my gaze instinctively drifted upward, tracking the grand facade of the estate until it locked onto a second-story window. A heavy gray curtain had been parted by only an inch.

Through the fractured glass and the blinding sheets of rain, a tiny, shivering silhouette stood watching.

Sloane.

Even from a distance, her defiance was unmistakable. She wasn't groveling or hiding in the shadows like the broken man at my feet. She stood perfectly straight, dark curls framing her face, her features frozen in a mixture of shock and unyielding hatred.

"Antonio, please... please, I'll do anything," Vance whimpered from the dirt, his desperate voice pulling my attention back down to the mud. "Don't kill me."

I let out a low, dark chuckle. "Anything, Vance?"

"Yes! Anything! Please, just spare me." His voice actually found a thread of firmness, driven by pure survival.

I didn't kneel in the dirt for him. I simply crouched down, bringing my face level with his trembling frame, and slammed a heavy, gloved hand onto his soaked shoulder. He stiffened instantly, staring at me as if looking at the devil himself.

"You're going to bring your daughter to me," I murmured, his shoulder tightening beneath my fingers the moment her name left my lips. "You're going to go up those steps, and you're going to convince her. I don't care how you do it, but I want her in my possession before dusk."

"Please, An—"

"I'm not giving you a choice. It's an order." I raised the heavy pistol, leveling it directly with his eyes so he could read the absolute certainty in my gaze. "If you fail to deliver her by dusk, I'm going to f*****g blow your brains out right on this porch, and I'll take her by force anyway."

Ashford looked down at the gravel, his chest heaving as he stared into the mud. "Yes," he whispered, his voice broken. "Yes. I will bring her."

"Good."

I stood up, completely turning my back on him, and walked smoothly toward the dry, quiet interior of the waiting SUV.

Enzo shut the heavy door behind me, instantly cutting off the roar of the storm. As the convoy surged forward, tires spitting gravel as we cleared the iron gates, I looked up at the second-storey window one last time.

She was still standing there, watching.

Very soon, she would be mine.