When He Cheated, I Wed His Mafia Father

Chapter 1

The night before the wedding.

I was in the villa going over every detail: the gown, the invitations, the Wedding Favors. I wanted to sign off on all of it myself, because I didn't want a single regret at the most important moment of my life.

Damian pushed open the door and dropped onto the couch without so much as a glance at the things spread across the table.

I picked up two bottles of perfume. "Which do you think works better for the favors, Chanel or Dior?"

He took the perfumes from my hand, tossed them aside, and pulled me down into his lap. Then he started unbuckling his belt.

He rarely kissed me, rarely talked to me. Every time we met it was only s*x. He said a man's love was a physical instinct carved into the bone, and what he felt for me was that kind of pure physical want.

The truth was, I didn't like having s*x with him. There was never any foreplay, just something rough and mechanical, as if he were checking off a task he couldn't avoid. I never felt any of the pleasure I was supposed to feel, and I still had to fake it to please him.

But right now there was a mountain of things waiting to be finalized, and I didn't have the energy left to perform for him. I closed my hand over his and buckled the belt back up. "Be good. I still have things to do."

I leaned down to kiss him. He turned his head to grab his phone, avoiding me in a way that pretended not to be avoidance. My lips landed on the corner of his mouth.

He patted my hip, lifted me off him, and stood up. "My father wants me. I'm heading out. When you get a free moment, start packing. Move into The Manor as soon as you can. The wedding's being held there, and you should get familiar with the place." He walked out without looking back.

I called a few close friends, ran the favor options past them, and settled on a choice. When I turned back around, I noticed Damian's pistol lying on the couch, the one he always carried on him.

I sighed and called him. It rang out. Then I checked his Close Friends story and saw he'd tagged the location of a club.

I grabbed the pistol and drove over. When I found the VIP booth he was in, I stopped outside the glass door. Through it, I could see a Club Dancer curled into his arms.

Her eyes were rimmed red. "You're getting married any day now. Will I even get to see you after that?"

He kissed her softly, lingering on her lips, looking at her with a depth of feeling I'd never once seen him direct at me.

"She's a Hollywood A-Lister with a whole army of investors backing her. The only way that old bastard hands The Thorne Syndicate over to me is if I marry her. I have no power right now, no way to protect you. Once I'm the next boss, I can give you the life you deserve. She's just a stepping stone in my play for power. Annie, we grew up together. You're the only woman I've ever wanted to marry." He paused, then said in a lower voice, "You have no idea. When I sleep with her, I want to throw up. If I weren't picturing your face, I couldn't even get hard."

The friends around him burst out laughing at my expense. "Orphan." "Two-bit gold digger." "Whore." "Idiot." Every vile word they could think of, thrown at me, the one who'd done nothing wrong. In their mouths, Annie was some saint in stripper heels even as she danced at a strip club, and I, the woman standing under the spotlight, was the real slut.

'What had I ever done? He was my first. How could Damian do this? How could he stand back and let people trample all over the heart I'd given him?'

A man with chestnut hair stood up, egging him on. "Damian, come on, the boys still haven't had a shot at an Oscar winner..."

My chest felt like it was being crushed in a fist, aching and raw. My hand around the pistol trembled. I looked at Damian without meaning to.

'Surely he wouldn't agree to something like that. Even if he didn't love me, he wouldn't want to get cheated on himself.'

The dancer's eyes lit up. "Perfect. If we catch her red-handed, you can divorce her without paying her a cent!"

Damian tugged her closer and flicked the tip of her nose fondly. "Aren't you a clever little thing." He didn't even bother to look up. "After the wedding, I'll set something up so you boys can have your turn. Honestly, she's boring as hell. In bed she moans like a cheap blow-up doll, all fake."

The dancer giggled. "Five years ago, she probably got passed around. I've heard women who've been gang-r***d can't even feel pleasure anymore."

Damian frowned and spat. "Disgusting. There were a few times we didn't use anything. Who knows what she might've been carrying. I'll go to the hospital tomorrow and get checked."

My legs gave out. I sagged against the cold marble wall of the corridor, the chill sinking straight into my bones.

The past came rushing back. Five years ago, I'd just won my Oscar. On the way home from the ceremony, I was kidn*pped. I agreed to pay them fifty million in ransom, but while we waited for the money to be delivered, they decided they wanted more than money. They wanted to r**e me and film it. I threw myself at the wall trying to end it, failed, and blacked out. The first face I saw when I woke was Damian's. He told me he'd happened to pass by and pulled me out before they could do anything to me.

We became friends. He looked after me with a care I'd never known. Feelings grew between us, and it seemed only natural when we ended up together. My parents had died young. The road I'd walked to get where I was had been brutal, with too many people wanting things from me because of how I looked. Damian felt like a harbor. With him I could finally put down my guard. I'd let myself believe I didn't have to fight so hard anymore.

Later, even when a thousand small signs told me he was cold, indifferent, I lied to myself. I was too afraid to lose the one place I thought I could rest.

Now the whole truth was bleeding out in front of me, and I finally understood. He was no different from all the men who'd ever looked at me with ulterior motives. He was worse. He was more disgusting, more cruel. Yes, he had saved me, but that night had never stopped haunting me. In the small hours I still woke from nightmares. He knew that better than anyone.

And yet the man who'd once pulled me out of that room was now spinning the same filth about me to please a stripper. To be rid of me, he was ready to hand me to his own brothers, to let them do to me the exact thing I feared most in the world. He was hurting me in the one way he knew would break me.

My stomach heaved, and I gagged silently against the wall.

I took out my phone and called my agent. I told her that next week, at the Grand Opening of Thorne Plaza, she wasn't to send a single star to make a PR appearance for him. I was done pouring anything of mine into that man ever again.