THE MAFIA KING'S OBSESSION

“Tell me you hate me, Serena.” Luca De Santis stood so close that Serena Moretti could feel the warmth of his breath against her lips. His black shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, revealing a glimpse of his muscular chest. His dark eyes held hers with the terrifying intensity of a man accustomed to taking whatever he wanted. “I hate you,” she whispered. “Look at me when you say it.” She lifted her chin. “I hate you, Luca.” His jaw tightened. “Then why are you trembling?” “Because I know what kind of monster you are.” He leaned closer, his gaze dropping briefly to her lips. “And yet you haven't moved away.” Serena hated that he was right. She hated the way her heart betrayed her whenever he entered a room. Most of all, she hated that the man who had destroyed her freedom could make her feel things she had never felt before. “Move,” she demanded. “Make me.” She placed both hands against his chest and pushed. He barely moved. “You are impossible!” “And you are a terrible liar.” Before she could answer, Luca caught her hand. His expression softened for a fraction of a second, revealing something beneath the coldness that frightened her more than his anger. “Tell me to stop,” he murmured. Her breath caught. She should have told him to stop. She should have reminded herself that she had never chosen him, that their marriage was a prison disguised as a beautiful wedding, and that this dangerous man had dragged her into his world without asking permission. Instead, she whispered, “You are the last man I should ever want.” Something dark and almost wounded flickered across his face. “Then stop looking at me like you want to kiss me.” Serena opened her mouth, but no words came. Luca lowered his head slowly, giving her every opportunity to turn away. She didn't. Their lips met. The kiss began like a challenge, fierce and filled with all the anger they had refused to confess. Then Luca's hand settled gently against her cheek, and the tenderness of that single touch nearly broke her resolve. For one dangerous moment, Serena forgot the threats, the wedding, and the fact that she was married to a man whose enemies would gladly bury her beside her father. Then she remembered. She pulled away and slapped him. The sound echoed through the bedroom. Luca turned his face slightly, then looked back at her. “Feel better, wife?” “No.” “Neither do I.” He walked toward the door, leaving Serena staring after him with shaking hands. At the doorway, he paused. “Lock your bedroom door tonight if it makes you feel safer.” She frowned. “Why?” “Because someone in this house has been asking questions about your father's death.” Her blood turned cold. Before she could demand an explanation, Luca disappeared into the corridor. And Serena finally understood that their marriage was hiding a secret far more dangerous than desire. --- Three weeks earlier, Serena had believed her biggest problem was her brother's growing debt. She was wrong. The truth arrived on a rainy Thursday evening, wearing a black suit and carrying a gun. Serena was in the kitchen when her brother, Gabriel, rushed inside. His face was pale, his hair soaked, and his hands shook so badly that he nearly dropped his phone. “Serena, listen to me,” he said. “Whatever happens tonight, you must do exactly what I tell you.” She stared at him. “What have you done?” “Nothing you need to worry about.” “You only say that when I should be worried.” Gabriel grabbed her shoulders. “If anyone asks, you know nothing about Father's business.” Before she could question him, the front door opened. Several men entered first, their weapons visible beneath their jackets. Then came Luca De Santis. Everyone in the city knew his name. Businessmen feared him, politicians secretly worked with him, and men who betrayed him often disappeared before sunrise. He was thirty-one, devastatingly handsome, and rumored to have ordered more deaths than anyone could count. His gaze moved around the room before settling on Serena. For a moment, neither spoke. She had seen photographs of him, but none captured the unsettling effect of his presence. He looked like a man who had never begged for anything in his life. “Gabriel Moretti,” Luca said calmly. “You owe me twelve million dollars.” Gabriel swallowed. “I can explain.” “Wonderful. I love explanations.” Luca smiled without warmth. “Unfortunately, I have already heard yours. Three times. They were all lies.” Serena stepped between them. “Whatever my brother owes you, I'll help him repay it.” Luca's eyes shifted toward her. “You?” “Yes.” “And what exactly can you offer me?” “Time. A payment plan. Anything reasonable.” He studied her as though she were a puzzle he had already solved. “Marriage.” The word struck the room like a gunshot. Serena stared at him. “What?” “You marry me, and your brother lives.” Gabriel lowered his head. That was when Serena understood. Her brother had not brought danger to their door by accident. He had brought it home. “You knew,” she whispered to him. “Serena, please—” “You knew he would ask for this?” Gabriel said nothing. Her eyes filled with tears, but she refused to let them fall in front of Luca. “You cannot buy a wife,” she said. Luca stepped closer. “Perhaps not. But I can offer your brother a choice between prison, a grave, and your hand in marriage.” “You're disgusting.” “I've been called worse.” “Then find someone else.” His expression hardened. “I don't want someone else.” Those words should have sounded romantic. Instead, they frightened her. Because Luca De Santis never wanted anything without a reason. And she had no idea what he saw in her. --- The wedding took place six days later. There were no flowers Serena had chosen, no friends cheering happily, and no loving promises exchanged beneath a beautiful sky. The ceremony happened in a private chapel surrounded by armed guards. Serena wore an ivory gown that fit her perfectly, although she felt as if she were dressed for her own funeral. Luca stood beside her in a black suit, looking infuriatingly calm. When the priest asked whether she accepted him as her husband, Serena looked directly into Luca's eyes. “I do.” The words tasted like surrender. Luca slipped the wedding ring onto her finger. His thumb brushed her skin, and his gaze held hers for a second longer than necessary. “Smile, cara,” he whispered. “Everyone is watching.” “Let them watch me plan your funeral.” His mouth curved into a faint smile. “There's my wife.” When the ceremony ended, he kissed her forehead instead of her lips. It was such an unexpectedly gentle gesture that Serena almost forgot to hate him. Almost. --- The De Santis mansion was beautiful enough to belong in a magazine and cold enough to make a person forget what home meant. Marble floors stretched beneath glittering chandeliers. Expensive paintings decorated the walls, and enormous windows overlooked gardens guarded by men with guns. Luca showed Serena to her bedroom. “You'll have everything you need here,” he said. “Except freedom.” He glanced at her. “You may walk around the grounds. You may visit the city with my security team. You may call your family.” “How generous.” “But you will not leave without telling me.” “There it is.” His eyes narrowed. “What?” “The part where you pretend you're protecting me when you're actually controlling me.” Luca stepped toward her, his expression unreadable. “Someone has already tried to use your family to get to me. Until I know who, you remain under my protection.” “I'm not one of your possessions.” “No,” he replied quietly. “You're something far more dangerous.” Serena folded her arms. “And what's that?” He looked at her mouth before meeting her eyes again. “My weakness.” For the first time since their wedding, she had no answer. Luca seemed to regret saying it. He turned toward the door. “Dinner is at eight. Don't be late.” “And if I am?” He looked over his shoulder. “I'll come and get you myself.” “Is that a threat?” His smile returned. “It's a promise, wife.” --- At dinner, Serena discovered that Luca could be charming when he wanted to be. He remembered the name of every guest, listened carefully to his staff, and treated an elderly housekeeper with a kindness she hadn't expected. Yet whenever his phone rang, his expression changed, and the room seemed to grow colder. She was beginning to wonder whether the monster everyone described was only part of the truth. Then Adrian Cole arrived. He was a handsome businessman with an easy smile and a familiar surname. Serena recognized him from photographs of charity events her father had attended. “Serena Moretti?” Adrian asked, smiling. “Your father spoke highly of you.” Her heart tightened at the mention of him. “You knew my father?” “Quite well. I'm sorry for your loss.” For the first time that evening, Serena felt she could breathe. They talked about her father's charity foundation, his favorite music, and the little things she missed most about him. Then Adrian offered his hand. “Would you like to dance?” Before Serena could answer, Luca appeared beside them. “I'm afraid my wife has already promised me this dance.” She stared at him. “I haven't promised you anything.” Luca's smile remained fixed. “Then allow me to ask properly.” He held out his hand. For a moment, Serena considered refusing simply to annoy him. But Adrian's amused expression made her accept. Luca drew her onto the dance floor. His hand rested at her waist while hers settled reluctantly against his shoulder. Around them, the guests watched the mafia king dance with his new bride as though she were the only woman in the room. “You're jealous,” Serena whispered. “Of Cole?” “You practically threatened him with your eyes.” “I was deciding whether he deserved to keep them.” She nearly laughed. “You're ridiculous.” “And you're enjoying yourself.” “Don't flatter yourself.” Luca pulled her slightly closer as the music slowed. “Tell me something, Serena. If I were an ordinary man, would you still hate me?” She looked up at him. “I don't know.” His teasing expression disappeared. “That's the first honest answer you've given me.” She could feel his heartbeat beneath his suit. His hand was warm against her back, and for a moment the distance between them seemed to disappear. Then Adrian approached to ask her another question. Luca's jaw tightened. Serena smiled sweetly at her husband. “Don't worry, darling. I'm sure I can survive one conversation without your permission.” She stepped away before he could respond. For the first time, she saw genuine frustration flash across Luca's face. And, to her shame, she liked knowing she could affect him.