The Valiant's Bride

CHAPTER 3

ALINA'S POV

My head ached badly as I struggled to open my eyes. My body felt too weak to move, yet, I moved my head to the side, tilting it just a bit to notice his hair shimmering in the sunlight, his face on the sheets as though he had slept here.

Did he really sleep here? Why?

Just as I blinked at him, I noticed his head being raised, he stared at me. I felt drawn aback to when we sat together in the car.

“You’re finally awake” he muttered, turning to the door where a lady in maid clothes quickly

rushed in, I wondered how she got the signal when she didn’t even see or hear him utter a word.

“Young miss..what would you like to eat?” She asked as I laid impaled on the bed, mentally trying to move my muscles.

“Just get breakfast ready and send in the doctor” he said in a low baritone. His voice felt familiar now we were home, although it was so beautiful yet, it was rare, such a calm tone that commanded action whilst giving assurance was definitely not something you hear everyday.

“I..I’m fine” I said, using my hands against the mattress to help my head and back so I can sit

upright.

“You fainted before getting up to ten words out of your lips” he answered, his eyes never leaving me while my heart pounded harder.

“I’ll be fine” I mumbled, noticing his hand placed on mine on the clear white sheets. I hadn’t noticed it before but his hand kept rubbing onto mine as though he were comforting me, that felt

quite awkward.

“Breakfast is ready” a maid said from the door, hands clasped together as she bent her head low.

“Thank you” he answered flatly, holding my hand,

What does he think he’s doing?

“I..I can move by myself” I revealed, trying to take my hand away from him, I couldn’t, his hand seemed to have a strong grip around mine as though he was holding me for dear life.

“Alright” he said, letting go of my hand but standing so close to the bed I had to signal with my eyes that he should move to the side so I could have an opening to actually move.

“Thank you” I muttered as I got up from the bed, walking down to the door myself, just in time for the maid to hold onto me as she tried to steady my steps.

As I walked with the maid's assistance, my husband followed closely behind, his eyes fixed on me. I couldn't help but feel a sense of unease under his gaze. We reached the dining room, and the aroma of freshly cooked food filled my nostrils. My stomach growled, reminding me that I hadn't eaten

since last night and now my body was even too hungry to move right.

The maid helped me sit down, and my husband took his place beside me. The food was served, and I hesitated for a moment before picking up my fork. The silence between us was palpable, but I tried to break it.

"Thank you for taking care of me," I said, looking at him.

He nodded, his expression unreadable. "You're my wife. It's my duty to take care of you." He

answered, his voice as subtle as always.

I felt a flutter in my chest at his words, but I couldn't quite decipher his tone. Was he being kind or was it just a statement of fact? I couldn’t tell, but even better, I didn’t have to ask about our consummation.

As we ate, I couldn't help but steal glances at him. He seemed lost in thought, his eyes fixed on his plate. I wondered what he was thinking about. Was he regretting marrying me? Did he truly care about me at all? Am I going to remain just a place holder?

After breakfast, the doctor arrived, and my husband excused himself to attend to some business.

The doctor examined me, asking me a series of questions about my health. I tried to answer as

honestly as possible, but I couldn't shake off the feeling that something was off.

As the doctor finished his examination, he whispered something to the maid, who nodded and left the room. I felt a sense of unease creeping in.

"What's wrong?" I asked the doctor, trying to keep my voice steady.

The doctor hesitated before speaking, "You're suffering from a rare condition, one that requires careful management. I'll prescribe some medication, but you need to take care of yourself, Miss...I mean, Mrs. Valerion."

I nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over me. But as the doctor left, I couldn't shake off the feeling that something was still off.

As I sat there, lost in thought, I heard a faint noise coming from outside the room. It sounded like whispers, but I couldn't quite make out what was being said. Suddenly, the lights flickered, and I felt a chill run down my spine.

I got up, trying to shake off the feeling of unease. But as I looked around the room, I noticed something that made my heart skip a beat. A piece of paper on the table caught my eye, with a single sentence written on it: "You're not who you think you are."

My mind reeled as I stared at the words, my heart racing with fear. What did it mean? Who could have written this? And why?

He indeed was a mafia lord to be getting such mysterious and dangerous messages that I couldn’t understand.

As I stood there, frozen in shock, I heard footsteps coming from the hallway. My husband's footsteps. I quickly hid the paper behind my back, trying to compose myself.

But as he entered the room, I couldn't help but wonder...what secrets was he hiding? And what lay ahead for me in this mysterious new life of mine?

Even though he was indeed a mafia don, I couldn’t help but think that he may not be as bad as he’s been portrayed or was he just putting up a front? I couldn’t understand and all the questions kept

Piling up in my mind, I had become even more restless.

Just as my eyelids flickered, I felt a light knock on the door before the room door opened and I saw my husband in formal attire. It wasn’t my first time seeing him in such a fitting outfit, but I still stared at him in awe of his beauty, it felt surreal.

Is this man really meant for a mafia life? He looks so beautiful.

“How are you feeling?” He asked in a casual tone as he walked in, going straight for the closet.

“Better..I think, the doctor said I’ll be fine” I answered vaguely.

“That’s good, cause I have a party I’m attending tonight and I want you to accompany me” he said

in a calm, commanding tone.

I had never said no to anyone, and besides, this would be better than just laying in bed all night. Also, I might see the type of women he might like.

“Yeah, sure” I answered.

“Okay, the maids will get you ready by nine pm. "I have some business to attend to,” he said casually before walking out.

Maybe Clara wasn’t fully right, but there was truth in some of the things she said. Maybe I would be merely a placeholder, a home to come to after his numerous women.

Oh God, I hope I can survive this.