The Mafia's Boss Unexpected Bride

Bianca’s POV There are rules to surviving in a place like this. Rules no one writes down… But every girl learns the hard way. Rule number one? Never let anyone touch you. The music blasted through the club, heavy and intoxicating, vibrating through my bones as I stood backstage, waiting for my turn. My fingers tightened slightly around the metal pole beside me, my chest rising and falling in slow, controlled breaths. Then my name was called. It was time.I stepped out. Immediately, all eyes were on me. I hated that feeling. The way their gazes crawled over my skin like something filthy. The way they looked at me like I wasn’t human… just a body. Just something to consume. But I swallowed it. I always did. Because I didn’t have a choice. People always talked. They always did. Whispers, Judgment, Disgust. “A stripper.” “Shameless.” “Cheap.” If only they knew.If only they understood that I didn’t wake up one day and choose this life for fun. I did it because I had to. Because at twenty-four, I was already carrying responsibilities that should have never been mine. A drunk father who couldn’t take care of himself. A reckless sister who never listened. And bills that didn’t care whether I had dignity or not. We had no one. No help, No opportunities. I tried God knows I tried to find decent work. Submitted applications everywhere. Waited. Hoped. Nothing. Because in this city, the gangs didn’t just run the streets. They controlled everything. Even who got a job. That was how I met Anne. My childhood friend. My only friend. She was the one who brought me here. The one who showed me how to survive in a world that didn’t care whether I sank or swam. And somehow… in the middle of all this chaos, she became the only person I could trust. The music shifted, pulling me back to reality. Slow. Seductive. My cue. I stepped forward, letting the rhythm take over as I moved toward the pole. My fingers wrapped around the cool metal as I swung myself around it, my body flowing with practiced ease. Every movement was intentional. Controlled. I arched slightly, letting my hair fall down my back as I spun, my legs tightening around the pole before releasing in a smooth drop that earned a loud cheer from the crowd. I didn’t look at them. I never did. Instead, I focused on the rhythm, letting it guide me as I climbed higher, my body gliding effortlessly as I wrapped one leg around the pole, leaning back in a slow, dangerous bend. My muscles burned. But I ignored it. Because pain was nothing compared to survival. The lights flashed across my skin as I moved, my body swaying, rolling, bending in ways that made the crowd louder, greedier. I could feel it. Their hunger. Their thoughts. The way their eyes stripped me bare even before I removed anything. It was suffocating. But I kept going. Because stopping wasn’t an option. I spun again, faster this time, my grip tightening as I lifted myself higher, my body suspended in the air before I flipped gracefully, my legs extending as I slid down slowly. That’s when I felt it. That shift. Subtle… but powerful. Like the entire atmosphere had changed. My movements faltered for just a second. And then I saw him. From across the room. Even from a distance, he stood out. Not because he was loud. But because he wasn’t. While everyone else shouted, cheered, reached He sat still. Watching. His presence alone felt… heavy. Dominant. Dangerous. My heart skipped. I didn’t know why. He was… beautiful. There was no other word for it. Tall, broad, perfectly put together like he didn’t belong in a place like this. His sharp jawline caught the dim lights, his dark eyes locked onto me with an intensity that made my breath hitch. He wasn’t looking at me like the others. He wasn’t hungry. He wasn’t desperate. He was… studying me. And somehow, that was worse. For a moment, I forgot where I was. Forgot the music. Forgot the crowd. It was just him. And the way his eyes held mine. My grip loosened. Just slightly. But enough. My body slipped. A gasp escaped my lips as I lost my balance, my heart jumping into my throat as I dropped— But I didn’t hit the ground. Strong hands caught me. Firm, Steady, Too close. For a second, everything froze. His arm was around my waist, holding me upright, his other hand gripping my arm to steady me. My breath hitched. His face was right there. Closer than before. Too close and his eyes Still locked on mine. Dark. Unreadable. Something in my chest tightened. But then reality snapped back. His hands were on me. Touching me. Breaking the only rule I had left. Fear mixed with instinct. And instinct reacted. SLAP. The sound echoed sharply through the club. The music seemed to stutter. The crowd went silent. Even I froze. My hand trembled slightly as it hovered in the air, the sting spreading across my palm. Oh God. What did I just do? His head had turned slightly from the impact, but slowly very slowly he turned back to face me. And the look in his eyes… Was not anger. That would have been easier. This was calm. Too calm. Dangerously calm. The kind that made your stomach drop. Around us, everything had gone still. Then suddenly, a group of men stepped forward his men. I could tell instantly. The way they moved. The way they looked at him. Loyal. Protective. Ready to destroy. One of them grabbed my arm roughly. “How dare you” Before he could finish, the man I slapped raised his hand slightly. That was all it took. Silence. Immediate obedience. The grip on my arm loosened. “Leave her.” His voice was low. Controlled. But final. The men stepped back instantly. I swallowed hard, my heart pounding wildly in my chest. He looked at me again. Not with anger. Not even with irritation. But with something I couldn’t quite understand. Amusement? Interest? It made my skin crawl. Then, without another word, he adjusted his sleeve like nothing had happened… and turned to walk away. Just like that. The tension didn’t leave with him. If anything, it stayed. Heavy. Unsettling. And then “Bianca!” I turned to see the manager rushing toward me, his face pale, his eyes wide with panic. “What have you done?” he whispered harshly. “I..he touched me” “Do you know who that man is?” I shook my head slowly, confusion mixing with the fear already building inside me. The manager ran a hand through his hair, his voice dropping like he was afraid someone might hear. “That… is Ian Shaman.” My heart stopped. “The Ian Shaman.” The name meant nothing. And yet… everything in his tone told me it should. “The man you just slapped,” he continued, his voice trembling slightly, “is the most powerful man in this city.” A chill ran down my spine. “He owns this club, Bianca.” Silence. Cold, suffocating silence. “And not just this club…” he added quietly. “He owns everything.” My throat went dry. And suddenly… That feeling from earlier came rushing back. Heavy. Unavoidable. Like a storm I had just stepped into without knowing. I didn’t know what would happen next. But one thing was certain. My life was about to change. And not in a good way.