unwanted vows : married to the mafia

Debbie stood still in the large study, her gaze fixed on the polished floor, heart pounding beneath her calm expression. She hadn't been in this house for more than a year—not since her grandparents died and her father decided to remember she existed.Even now, standing before him, she wasn’t his daughter. Not really.She was just… available.“You’ll marry him,” her father said, voice cold and final.She didn’t flinch. She’d heard worse growing up.“You mean pretend to be Chloe and marry a mafia prince she was too scared to face?”He finally looked up from his desk. “Don’t get clever, Debbie. This is bigger than you—or her.”She swallowed her disgust. “You lied to him.”“We gave him a bride,” he said simply. “What difference does it make which daughter it is?”She could have screamed. But Debbie had learned long ago that silence was her strength. Her time in the village had taught her patience. Her grandfather had taught her how to fight—how to hold a blade, how to read danger in a man’s stance. But none of that prepared her for being sold off like a pawn in her father’s dirty deal.“If I say no?” she asked, voice quiet.Her father’s lips curved in a cold smile. “You won’t.”And he was right. She had no money. No family left. No degree yet. No escape.---Two days later, she stood in the opulent hall, dressed in white silk that clung too tightly to a body that didn’t belong in it.The air was thick with perfume, candles, and secrets.Then the doors opened.Jackson Moretti stepped in like the storm everyone had warned her about. Tall. Dark. Danger dressed in a custom suit. His eyes swept over her like a laser.He froze.“That’s not Chloe,” he said under his breath, gaze narrowing.Still, he didn’t walk away.He stepped forward.He took her hand.He let the vows be said.“I do,” he said without blinking.But his eyes never left hers. in them Debbie saw it he knew something was wrong , and he was going to find out what.