The Billionaire Mafia Husband

Chapter2

Sofia's eyes fluttered open, her mind foggy and her body aching. The subtle pain on her right cheek and the throbbing in her head told her that this was no dream. She rolled over, stretching out her hand to feel the space in front of her. The bed was enormous, with enough room for at least two people. The sheets felt like silk against her skin, a luxury she was not accustomed to.

As she slowly opened her eyes, reality set in. The room was massive, with enough space to fit four of her rooms and a small library. She approached the towering window, her heart sinking as she realized she was several floors above ground. Escape through the window was not an option. Her life might be miserable, but she certainly was not suicidal.

Panic threatened to overwhelm her, but she refused to give her captors the satisfaction of seeing her afraid. She knew screaming was pointless, from the window she could tell the house was isolated land, as she could see only several plots of land that seemed to go on forever, and banging on the door would only lead to frustration. Instead, she explored the room, her eyes widening as she opened the huge white door that revealed a closet larger than her own bedroom.

The arrangement of clothes was meticulous, with sections of dresses, tops, and pants hanging on clear white hangers. The labels were famous, the quality was exquisite, and the sheer quantity was staggering. She trailed her hand through the dress, her mind reeling at the wealth that surrounded her.

****

She heard the approach of heavy boots on tiles, then the click of the door. She stood up, trying to brace herself for anything.

A tall, heavily built man came through the door, his crew cut and tattoos visible under his tight short-sleeved black t-shirt. The tattooed man walked into the room, leaving the door ajar. "You're invited to breakfast," he said, his face hardened.

Sofia was going to protest, but something about his face told her it was pointless, and he could easily pick her up with one arm. She decided to be observant and alert, biding her time until she found an opportunity to escape. Quietly, she followed him down the five flights of stairs to the first floor, where she heard men talking merrily.

They sat at a long table lined with fruits and various breakfast foods. Sofia's mouth watered at the sight, as she hadn't eaten the previous day due to her anxiety.

A young man stood up from the head of the table, his jet-black hair tied back, revealing a tall and muscular physique. His piercing blue eyes seemed to gleam in the light, and his chiseled features were so striking that Sofia's gaze was drawn to him like a magnet. His tight-fitting t-shirt showcased his impressive muscles, and as he approached, Sofia couldn't help but notice the way his Adam's apple bobbed on his slender neck. There was something about him that radiated confidence and power, leaving Sofia with a sense of awe and wonder. She couldn't help but stare, taking in every detail of his captivating presence.

"Hello, wife" he said.

Dominic.

At the knowledge of his identity, Sofia felt her hatred directed towards him instantly. She felt disgusted at herself for having found the monster attractive moments ago. All this time, she had been imagining a balding old man with a huge beer belly and white hair planted on his chain. She shouldn't have been so surprised, though; Lucifer was said to be quite attractive. And that was what he was, the devil.

"Is this the moment where I'm supposed to bow or something, to your notorious evilship?" she mocked. He grinned, and his pale blue eyes seemed to turn a darker blue. "Feisty, I sure like them like that." Sofia hissed, "You will never have me," she said defiantly.

He walked closer to her, erasing all the space between them. "I'll take that as a challenge." Sofia could see the excitment flash in his eyes. The monster thought it was all games, like his whole life was simply entertainment for him. He raised her chin up, staring at her face. "Get your serpentine hands off me," she shouted.

"What's this? What's that on your face?" he asked sharply. "It's a bruise, genius," she replied sarcastically. He turned back to the table. "Who hit her?" his voice echoed around the room, shaking the crystal chandelier a little. "Are you morons deaf?" A vein became obvious on his neck, looking like it was about to explode.

Even Sofia felt sorry for the guy who hit her at that moment. A rugged-looking guy stepped forward from the table; he looked at least 35 years old but hung his head down like he wanted to disappear. "She hit me, boss," his voice was barely audible.

When he spoke, his voice sounded so calm that it was more scary than when he was shouting. "What instruction did I give to you?"

"You said not to hurt her," he said.

"What is that on her face?" he asked, sounding very innocent, like he was actually curious to know what it was.

"It's a bruise, boss," he said sheepishly. He nodded as if understanding something new. He walked over to the rugged boy. "Show me how you did it," his voice almost sounded polite as he did this. "Andre, I said show me how you did it. Do the same on my face." His voice was louder now. Andre stepped back. "I-" he stammered.

The sound of the slap made her shrink, she stepped back, almost tripping on a step. And like the true psychopath he was, he turned over to her, giving her a soft smile. "You must be hungry. Come sit at the table." He gestured to a seat beside where he was now sitting at the head.

She wasn't going to let him see her frazzled. She sat down, crossing her legs underneath the table. "I'm guessing this is a regular day here," she said casually as she took a sip of coffee. He only looked at her, amused.