BETRAYED INTO THE ARMS OF THE DEVIL

chapter 11: Wedding Chains

The heavy doors of the Fortress’s private chapel loomed ahead like the gates of my new prison. Two days, that was all the time they gave me before dragging me into this rushed ceremony. Heavy security lined every corridor, armed guards, cameras tracking my every step, I walked down the short aisle in a simple but elegant white dress that hugged my still-flat stomach, the fabric soft against my skin but feeling like chains.

I was a beautiful prisoner, nothing more.

Cassius stood at the altar, commanding and unreadable in a perfectly tailored black suit. His dark eyes tracked my approach with cold precision, his face carved from stone. No warmth, no hesitation, just the ruthless Mafia King claiming what he had purchased.

The priest began quickly, the words clipped under the weight of armed men watching from the shadows. No guests, no family, just the two of us and the empire’s silent witnesses.

“Do you, Lena Valenti, take this man as your husband?” the priest asked.

I swallowed hard, my throat tight. “I do.” The words tasted like ash. Inside, I made a silent vow: I will survive this. For my child, I will adapt, I will find a way to become more than a pawn in his game.

Cassius’s voice was steady and ice-cold when he answered. “I do.” His vows were contractual, listing protection and loyalty to the alliance with no mention of love or affection. Mine mirrored the same emptiness.

When the priest instructed us to exchange rings, Cassius took my hand, his fingers were warm and strong, lingering a second too long as he slid the heavy band onto my finger. The touch sent an unwanted spark up my arm, I met his eyes for a brief moment and saw something flicker there, gone before I could name it. My pulse raced despite the resentment burning in my chest.

The ceremony ended as fast as it began. Husband and wife. Bound forever in a deal sealed with ink and power.

The post-ceremony dinner was served in a private dining room overlooking the cliffs. Candlelight flickered across the long table, but the atmosphere was anything but romantic. Servants brought plates of rich food I could barely stomach. Cassius sat at the head, cutting into his steak with precise movements while I pushed vegetables around my plate.

“This is our life now,” he said, breaking the heavy silence. “You will stand beside me at events, play the role. In return, you and the child are untouchable.”

I set my fork down, resentment flaring. “Play the role? Like a doll on your arm? My family sold me for status. Now you expect me to smile and pretend this is normal? Our worlds don’t even belong in the same room.”

His gaze sharpened. “Your world crumbled the night your sister betrayed you. This marriage rebuilds it under my name, clashing worlds or not, it’s done. Eat, the baby needs strength.”

The tension between us crackled, sharp and undeniable. Every word exposed the distance between us,him, the cold strategist who saw alliances, power, and heirs; me, the woman still struggling beneath the weight of betrayal, fighting to hold onto the last pieces of my dignity.

The permanence of our bond pressed down on me like the fortress walls surrounding us. There would be no escape, no easy way out, no undoing what had already been done.

This was my reality.

I forced a few bites down, my mind racing with plans for survival. I would observe, learn, turn this cage into something I could navigate. But sitting across from the man who now owned my future made the food taste like dust.

Dinner ended in stiff silence. Cassius escorted me back to my wing, his hand barely brushing my lower back. The touch was formal, possessive. I pulled away slightly, and he didn’t comment.

Night fell heavy over the Fortress. I changed into a silk nightgown and tried to rest, but stronger pregnancy symptoms hit without warning. Nausea rolled through me violently, sharp cramps twisted low in my belly. I curled on my side, breathing through the pain, sweat beading on my forehead.

A soft knock sounded, then the door opened without waiting. Cassius stepped in, still dressed in his shirt from dinner, sleeves rolled up. His eyes locked onto me immediately, taking in my curled position and pained expression.

“Staff reported you were unwell,” he said, voice rough as he crossed the room. He didn’t ask permission, he simply sat on the edge of the bed, close enough that I could feel his heat.

I tried to sit up, but another cramp made me wince. “I’m fine. Just... leave.”

He didn’t move. Instead, his hand hovered near my shoulder, then gently pressed a cool cloth he’d grabbed from the side table against my forehead. The unexpected care in such a vulnerable moment forced an uneasy closeness between us. His dark eyes held mine, unreadable but intense, as the pain ebbed slightly under his watchful presence.

This man, this devil I was now chained to, sat in my room in the middle of the night, refusing to leave while I suffered. The resentment and reluctant formality of our wedding day clashed violently with whatever this new, dangerous intimacy was becoming.