The Mafia King's Contract Bride

Chapter 11

DAMIAN

I came out of my room and Matteo stood at the door, waiting for me with an expression I was familiar with.

“What?”

“Her parents are here,” he said but his face still had unspoken words.

“What is the issue Matteo?”

“Her mother and sister are in her room,” he said, his voice suddenly low.

I turned to him then. “You let them in her room?”

“No.” He shook his head. “We are not aware who did it, but we are looking for the person.”

“Hmm, find the person,” I ordered and walked towards her room.

If there was one thing I'd noticed about my bride, it was how fear dominated her and her family preys on that. I wouldn't have cared if she wasn't my property now.

I opened the door just in time to see Zach Moretti's wife shred the outfit of my bride. I looked at her as those tears fell from her eyes again, like a weak flower scared to bloom.

“Someone needs to remind you that you would never be more than a slave,” the woman said and for some reason, those words riled me up.

“And someone needs to teach you the consequences of disobedience,” I said flatly and they all turned. Their reactions were different. Two were scared they've been caught where they shouldn't be, and her, her expression was mixed with relief and fear.

“I see disobedience runs in the blood huh,” I continued and walked inside then. The daughter shifted towards the mother and I scoffed. “I warned you about getting your filthy hands on her, didn't I?”

“I-I didn't touch her,” she stuttered and my bride widened her eyes.

“My wife doesn't think so,” I replied and sat down then. “What happened to your dress, Moretti?” I turned to her then and she shifted back.

“She tore it herself!” The daughter suddenly blurted out, her indiscipline annoying me. I faced her then.

“The next time I ask my bride a question and you dare speak,” I paused. “You'll forget you came into the world with lips,” I concluded and faced my bride. “I asked a question.”

“She tore it,” she whispered and I nodded.

“I see,” I said and stood up. I walked towards the woman and she shifted back, fear all over her face. I paused then and snapped my fingers and one of my men appeared.

“Lock them,” I ordered and he pushed them out. I was going to take care of them after the ceremony, that way, my mood wouldn't soil before the event. I turned to my bride then, relieved but still in fear. Good.

“A new dress would be delivered in a few minutes,” I said to her and walked towards the door. “Be out in 30.”

***********************

The replacement dress was much better than the ripped one. I looked at her again and nodded, now she looked like a De Luca. She walked down and stopped in front of me, her eyes doing that thing they did when she was bracing for something.

“You'll do,” I said flatly and walked towards the reception hall, she followed.

The hall went silent the moment we walked in, but it was the way my bride froze that I noticed more. Like the crowd was about to swallow her up.

“Brace up,” I ordered but it didn't help, I turned and faced her directly then. She looked at me, her eyes filled with anxiety.

“It's my first time,” she whispered and I creased my brows. Of course, Zach Moretti never took her to events.

“Don't act like it,” I said sternly and she blinked. “Follow everything I do, Moretti, and remember,” I paused and looked into those hazel eyes. “I don't appreciate mistakes,” I said and turned then.

She obeyed. She straightened when I straightened, smiled when smiling was required, and said the right amount of words and no more, standing close enough to look like a wife and far enough to show she understood the boundaries of the arrangement. I introduced her to the people who mattered — men whose alliances ran deeper than their handshakes suggested, women whose smiles carried entire histories underneath them.

“Damian,” Elena called cheerfully before going in for a hug. I blocked it. She frowned for a second before replacing it with one of her fake smiles, she turned to Seraphina then, the smile still in play.

“If it isn't the new contract wife,” she said and Seraphina gave her a small nod, suddenly uncomfortable. My bride wasn't ignorant after all.

“Nice to meet you…”

“Elena.”

“Yeah,” she said, this time with a real smile.

Elena turned to me then. “She's beautiful, I must say. But have you told her?” She asked and turned to Seraphina again. “Has he told you he doesn't like women like you?” She said and Seraphina blinked before swallowing, words eluding her. I stepped in between and faced Elena then.

“Get the f**k out of here,” I said sternly and she smiled. “You seem to be getting too comfortable Elena, don't make me remind you who exactly you are,” I warned and the frown came then. She shifted back and gave a small nod.

“Enjoy the event,” she finally said and walked out and I turned towards seraphina then, her face asking questions I knew wouldn't be answered.

“I want to use the bathroom,” she said when she realized I wouldn't talk.

“Hmm, be fast. Guests don't care about your bladder,” I said and walked towards one of my investors.

******************************

I was deep in conversation with two men near the center of the room when I saw her again. But this time, she was standing near the far end of the hall, a glass in her hand, and there was a man in front of her — young, well dressed, entirely unremarkable to anyone who didn't know to look twice. But I looked twice at everything.

“Who is he?” I asked Matteo who seemed oblivious.

“Sergio's adopted son,” he said and I nodded. Sergio was one of my investors, but I didn't trust the old man, let alone this little son of his who dares go near what was mine. I walked towards them then, Seraphina suddenly smiling differently than she'd smiled all evening. It was warmer and familiar, she knew him before now. I crossed the room slowly, at an angle that kept me out of her eyeline. The man was speaking quietly, leaning slightly forward in the way men lean when they want to be heard without being overheard. He was telling her something I knew immediately was about me, surprise all over his face and beneath it, hurt. He liked her but she was unaware of it. She was simply glad to recognize a face in a room full of strangers, her shoulders looser than they'd been all evening, her laugh quiet and unguarded and completely unaware.

The man suddenly leaned closer and that was when I stepped in. I appeared at her side without announcement, taking them by surprise. Sera's eyes found me immediately and something in her expression shifted, the warmth pulling back slightly, the performance returning like a reflex. The man straightened.

"I wasn't aware my wife had friends I hadn't met," I said quietly and extended a hand and he took it — I felt the exact moment he understood what kind of handshake it was.

"Marcus," he said. "Marcus Hale. We went to university together, Sera and I. I had no idea she was—" he stopped and looked at her briefly, then back at me. "Congratulations. To you both."

"Thank you, Marcus,” I said.

I held his gaze for precisely three more seconds and then I leaned in — just slightly, just enough — and said four words into the space beside his ear.

He went completely pale.