Married to My Father-in-law

Signed Fate

Emilia’s POV

“No… I can’t,” I stammered, my heart beating faster than ever. The Don stepped backward, his hand lazily picking up a cigar, and he lit it without another thought.

I watched him, his every action. He didn’t look bad; for a man in his forties, he looked stunning. His grey eyes were a total contrast to the dazzling blue eyes of his son. He carried himself with pride, and the earth seemed to shake at his steps. His presence commanded the air, and his gaze whispered more than his lips.

“Think again.” His voice echoed like a taunting threat.

“I… I” I choked, unable to make a full sentence.

Don Adrian smirked, his gaze settling on me dangerously. With every step he took closer, I found myself crawling backward. The room was suddenly too hot; I was sweating in places I had never sweated before.

“Your sister… I would hate for her to be expelled,” he murmured.

“No… please,” I begged desperately. Amalia had gone through so much to gain admission to an elite university. She would hate me if anything should go wrong.

"Not Amalia," I cried harder, but his face only grew colder.

“Your parents…” He chuckled, his voice deep. “Losing their home at this age… will kill them.” He paused, and his eyes flickered. “Oh, wait,” he grinned, like he’d just figured out a million-dollar contract. “Your father, his heart isn’t good,” he added, and my body froze.

Since my parents lost their only son on his twentieth birthday, things took a quick turn. Our father was never the same. He buried his favorite alongside his heart.

“I… I will sign,” I murmured as my trembling hands picked up the pen.

“But on two conditions.”

“Hmmm.” His eyes narrowed, and he slowly dropped his cigar on the table. “Do tell, baby doll,” he urged. His steps brought him closer, trapping me between himself and the wall, his breath fanning the nape of my neck.

“I will be allowed to mourn, and my family will not be touched.”

For a brief second, the air was tense. His hands lazily drummed the wall next to me.

“One condition,” he whispered.

“No… I need two,” I argued, biting down on my lips, though inside I was about to explode.

“I will see to it that your family gets what they deserve, but mourning…” His face darkened.

“My woman is not allowed to mourn another,” he hissed. Then his eyes turned to the papers. “Now sign it before I change my mind.”

I had nothing left. Without thinking, my hand scratched my signature on the new marriage contract—a paper I wasn’t even allowed to read through.

“Good,” he whispered, picking it up. Without another word, he strode out like nothing had happened.

I felt myself crumble. My heart gave in, and tears streamed down my face uncontrollably. I don’t know how long I stayed in the home office, but night came faster than expected.

Steps echoed in the hallways, and soon the door creaked open. It wasn’t locked.

“Mrs. Voss,” a gentle voice called. For a second, I sat still; the name felt like a thorn on my flesh. Dante had never loved it; he let me keep my name. “I hate I have the same name as him,” he would say, but now I answer to the very name the man I cherished hated. Fate was indeed cruel.

“Yes,” I answered amidst the darkness, cleaning my eyes as I stood up from the warm carpet.

“Dinner is served, and you are expected to dine with the Don in ten minutes… be presentable.”

Before I could say something, she was gone.

Tiredly, I carried myself to my room, but then the door was locked.

“This way,” a voice echoed from behind. I turned, and all I could see was the back of the guard as he led the way. Soon, he stopped before a bedroom I was familiar with.

It was the room I had occupied during my courtship with Dante.

“The Don hates waiting,” the guard whispered, and was gone.

I pushed open the heavy oak door. The creaking sound was eerie; everything was just as I remembered. However, the pictures were replaced with paintings. My gut twisted as I glanced at them. I was not a fan of art, but Dante had mentioned his father was, and now I was beginning to see.

I had no time to dwell on my thoughts as I hurried to the bathroom. I scrubbed my body so hard it reddened, but the filth from within wouldn’t wash away.

I stepped out, and an ocean-blue dress carefully laid on the bed caught my attention, a total contrast to the black gown I had in mind. I wanted my dress to reflect my mood, but it seemed the Don was doing everything to see me as his wife rather than his daughter-in-law.

It was my size, and beside it were white slippers. I quickly got dressed and tossed my hair back. There was no need to look good, not when I was eating opposite the devil.

As I climbed down the stairs, I could feel his cold gaze burning into my skin. The servants’ heads bowed, their eyes fixed on the floor. Every step felt like a death sentence. A servant pulled out a chair for me by his side.

The table was filled with every delicacy I loved—mashed potatoes, scrumptious braised fish, and mushroom soup—all done and smelling the way I liked it.

Was he trying to buy me with food?

I rolled my eyes at the thought, then a soft chuckle escaped.

“What… want something?” His thundering voice demanded.

“Even if I did, you wouldn’t grant it, so why bother?” I murmured, my gaze fixed on the dished-out meal before me.

Don Adrian said nothing more, but I could feel his eyes on me. They never left, not even when dinner was done.

“I will be in my room,” I murmured, standing up. But my hand was suddenly grabbed, and my body yanked in his direction. In seconds, I found myself seated on his lap, my ass well-positioned on his protruding rod.

I shifted, but he held me tight.

“What’s wrong…” he asked, his breath dangerously close. “Aren’t you excited… or have you forgotten today is our wedding night?”

My breath hitched as his hands graced my skin, his rough palm caressing the softness of my thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Hmmm. You smell good,” he murmured, planting a soft kiss behind my neck. My body jolted, both surprised and overwhelmed.

“You like it, don’t you?”

I wanted to yell, to push him away, and to tell him I hated every bit of it. But his hands slid beneath my dress, his fingers searching for my panties, and just as I opened my mouth, a finger slid in.

“Ah…” an involuntary moan escaped.

He smirked, positioning himself perfectly against my entrance. The dress was the only barrier.

“I want you…” His voice dripped with need.

“But I can wait,” he said, his lip curled, and his fingers pushed in further, making my body respond in ways I had no control over. “I will only have you when you beg,” he murmured.

I swallowed hard.

I didn’t wait for confirmation. I stood up and ran to my room as fast as my legs could carry me. I slammed the door behind me, my heart pounding, threatening to break through my rib cage.

“What have I gotten myself into?”