The Mafia Twins' Bride

The silk sheets stuck to my body like a second skin. My head pounded so hard as if were going to split open. I bolted upright, my heart slamming hard against my ribs, as I stared at the heavily tattooed arm pinning me to the bed. I didn’t know this bed nor did I know this man. A gun glinted on the nightstand, scars cutting across his knuckles and shoulder. I knew this was definitely not my fiancé’s place. Gosh I'm in a deep mess right now. I swung my leg toward the edge, reached for the black dress crumpled on the floor. My phone buzzed nonstop on the nightstand; forty-seven missed calls from my sister and my fiancé. Messages flooded in faster than I could read. A deep voice rumbled beside me, lazy but dangerous, that sent chills down my spine. “And where do you think you’re going to,” he said. His fingers locked around my wrist before I could pull away. He didn’t even open his eyes fully, like he already knew he had trapped me in his tight grip. I twisted hard, my voice coming out hoarse. “Let go. I...I was drugged. This wasn’t supposed to happen.” He finally looked at me. Dark eyes. Sharp jaw. The kind of face that made people cross over to the other side of the road. A slow smirk tugged on his lips. “Drugged or not, you’re in my bed now, sweetheart.” My stomach dropped. “Who the hell are you?” “Dominic Valencia.” He said it like the name explained everything and it actually did. Everyone on the East Coast knew Dominic Valencia, the strongest mafia boss, the one who took what he wanted even if it meant burning down everywhere. “And the whole city already knows you spent the night with me.” My phone kept vibrating. I lunged for it with my free hand. Dominic didn't stop, he let me grab it without loosening his grip. He just watched, amused, like this was all part of his plan. The screen was filled with notifications. Grainy photos of me stumbling into a building I barely recognize last night, my dress slipping off my shoulder, laughing in a way that didn’t feel like me. Hashtags everywhere. #ValenciaMistress. #EngagementOver. Numerous comments calling me a slut, a gold-digger, a traitor. My face turned pale. “This can’t be real...” I muttered. Dominic sat up slowly, his muscles shifting under that inked skin. The sheet slipped low on his hips. “It’s real. Your sister made sure of it.” My head snapped toward him, my breath hitched in my throat. “What did you just say?” He shrugged one shoulder, casual as hell. “I guess maybe she wanted your fiancé for herself or there might be another ulterior motive why she drugged you at the gala. Nevertheless whatever her reason was, I don't give a damn. You are not going anywhere and that's final.” he said, his voice dropping dangerously low. I yanked harder against his hold, my anger cutting through the panic. “Oh really you actually knew? And yet you allowed this to happen?” I yelled, tears almost threatening to fall. “I don’t let things happen, Lila.” His voice flat, but his grip tightened just enough to remind me who was stronger. “I make them useful. And right now, you’re very useful to me.” Hearing my name from his mouth sent a shiver down my spine which I hated. I swallowed hard. “How do you even know my name?” “I make it my business to know every f*****g thing about the woman who ends up naked in my bed.” He whispered to my ears, finally letting go of my wrist, but only to brush a strand of hair off my face. The touch was too gentle for a dangerous man like him. “Your sister had always wanted you gone. And right now the whole East Coast thinks you’re my latest whore.” Tears burned behind my eyes, but I blinked them back fast. I wasn’t going to cry in front of him. “My family… my engagement…” “Both gone.” Dominic leaned closer, his voice dropping low. “Your fiancé already canceled everything. Your father is getting calls from people who used to respect him. All because of last night .” My phone rang again. I snatched it up with shaking fingers and answered before I could stop myself . My sister’s voice came through, sweet and smug. “Lila? God, you sound terrible. Rough night?”. “You f*****g b***h,” I hissed, my voice edged with fury. “You drugged me, and purposely sent me straight into the den of a Mafia boss. I hate you so much” I yelled into the phone. A soft laugh came through the phone speaker. “I told you I’d break that engagement of yours. Now you’re ruined. Everyone’s talking about how you couldn’t keep your legs closed, opening them wide for Dominic Valencia. Dad’s already disowning you in private. Your fiancé just posted that he’s single again. Congratulations, sis. You’re officially trash.” The words hit me like multiple punches. I gripped the phone so tight my knuckles turned white. “You think this makes you win? You...” Dominic snatched the phone from my hand and ended the call with his thumb. He tossed it aside like it was nothing. “Enough talking to her. The deed is already done.” I stared at him, chest heaving. “Give it back. I need to...” “Need to what?” He cut me off, his eyes locked on mine. “Beg her for mercy? Or Crawl back to a man who just threw you away like some filthy garbage? .” He caught my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. “You’re staying here. As my wife. On paper, at least.” “Your what?” The word hit me like a slap. “Contract wife.” He said it plain, like he was ordering coffee. “You give me an heir. And in return I give you protection. I get your name cleaned up completely from this mess. Simple.” A broken hysterical laugh slipped out my lips. “You’re crazy. I’m not going to be your wife neither I'm I going to have your baby. For Pete's sake I don’t even know you.” “You know enough.” His thumb brushed my jaw, almost soft, but his eyes stayed hard on mine. “Right now, the only thing that would keep your sister and that spineless coward ex of yours from f*****g blowing off your brain is my last name attached to yours.” My mind spun widly. The photos. The notifications. My own sister gloating over my destruction. Everything I had; my engagement, my safety, my place in the family; gone in one night all because she wanted what was mine. Dominic watched me piece it together, with that steady lethal calm of his. “Think fast, Lila. The longer you fight me, the faster they come for you.” I wanted to scream. I wanted to run. But my legs felt too heavy, and every new buzz from my phone reminded me the world outside this room already hated me. He leaned back against the headboard, arms crossed over his chest. “Clock’s ticking. What’s it going to be?” he said. I bend my head low, the thought of being cast out by my family, and of my reputation being completely ruined in the eyes of the general public and that of what my sister might probably be planning against me everything came crashing into my mind. I looked up at him, my throat tightening, my voice barely above a whisper. “If I don't sign... you won't stop them, will you?” Dominic’s expression hardened, his casual posture vanished now replaced by stark territorial stillness. He didn't blink his gaze locking onto mine with terrifying focus, he pulled me closer until our faces were inches apart, his breath warm against my skin. “Then you’d better say yes, wifey. Because once you’re mine, nobody dares touch what belongs to me.” My heart hammered so loud that I could barely hear myself. “I don't have a choice, do I?” His a nswer came as a low, satisfied growl against my ear. “No. You don’t.”