Claimed by My Mafia Stepson

CHAPTER 2

Before my engagement to Androa, I used to be a ‘911 Dispatcher’...the one who stayed calm while the world shattered

I thought I’d heard every version of a human breaking—the screams of helplessness, the hollow silence after a gunshot, and the jagged pleas of a mother losing her child.

But nothing in my professional life prepared me for the sound of my husband's breath hitched in another woman’s ear.

Elisa arched her back as she bounced shamelessly on his c*ck.

Androa’s hands which had been so gentle with me at the altar, were buried deep in her thighs, stroking while he drove into her with a raw, desperate violence that made my stomach lurch.

I stood there like a statue— unable to tear my eyes away from the scene. Every bounce... every moan a stab to my already broken heart.

I wanted to scream. To turn and run— but my legs refused to move.

Then they saw me.

Elisa didn't gasp or hurry out of the room as most mistresses would.

She simply got off Androa and grabbed her clothes on the floor.

“Oops!” she smirked. “Looks like the bride found us.”

Androa angrily slid out of bed and threw on a shirt as if I had interrupted something very important.

He didn't even attempt to cover his c*ck which was still glistening with her arousal.

“You weren’t supposed to be here, Madeline.”

My breath caught.

“Is that what you could say to me?”

“It changes nothing, you're still my wife.”

“You said she was family.”

Elisa burst into laughter.

“She really believed you,” she shook her head. “I told you she was dumb.”

My nails dug so deep. The sharp sting in my palms was a welcome distraction— a physical anchor to keep me from rushing at her.

Androa approached, his face a pure scowl.

“Stop acting hysterical like a child.”

“Am I?” I shot back.

“Yes, you are.”

“You married me.” My voice shook. “It's not long you said your vows to me in front of everyone!”

“Elisa is more than family. She's my love.”

I staggered back step, his words like a dagger twisting deeper into my chest.

None of this made sense.

“If you loved Elisa this much... then why did you marry me?”

They exchanged knowing glances.

“Your father.” Androa stepped closer, eyes raking over me with visible disgust. “He offered me money to marry you.”

The world tilted in my head.

For a moment, all I could hear was my heart thumping against my rib cage.

“No!” I swallowed hard. “It's not true. My father would never sell me.”

Androa pulled out his phone and tapped the screen.

A video clip of my father in his office played. Photos of me sprawled on the desk.

‘Please, Mr. Morvanti. Marry my daughter and I’ll give you my life savings.’

‘How much are we looking at?’

‘Half a million.’

My chest collapsed inward. A wispy cry escaped me. Something I had never heard myself make before.

I didn’t move. Didn’t blink. Just stared. If I stared long enough, maybe the screen would change.

It didn’t.

Androa walked to the table and poured himself wine like we were discussing sports.

“Two months ago, your father walked into my office. Spoke passionately about his daughter. A 911 operator. When I looked at your photos… I was impressed.”

“Half a million. And a trophy wife? Who would say no?”

Tears gathered in my eyes.

So one man sold me.

And the other bought me.

“All this time…” My voice dropped to a whisper.

“I thought you chose me. But none of this was real. Not you. Not the vows.”

“C'mon, Madeline. She's twenty-one. And you’re what—forty? No man, I mean no man, would choose you over a girl like her.”

Heat rushed to my face.

My stomach dropped—hard—then twisted, tight and painful.

I suddenly felt old. Became aware of the fine lines spidering around my eyes. The stiffness in my posture.

And of course, how Elisa's body glowed under the bedroom light.

“You're his wife on paper,” Elisa hissed, walking back into his arms, her hands trailing down his chest and grabbing his c*ck. “...but his heart and everything will always belong to me.”

My eyes widened.

Before I could process my thoughts, they were cuddling and kissing, like I wasn't even in the room.

Shame burned through me. Humiliation sat heavy on my chest.

All my life, I had never felt so embarrassed. So powerless. So utterly disrespected.

And it was happening tonight. Tonight. Of all nights.

I didn’t remember leaving the room.

I didn't remember walking down the hallway.

But I did remember hearing them f*****g again so loudly.

“Yes. Fvck me harder!”

My body moved, but I wasn’t inside it.

I reached the stairs on autopilot, grabbed my purse in the foyer and headed out.

It wasn't until I hopped into the taxi, that I realized I was still in the silk nightdress. The one meant for my wedding night.

No coat.

No panties.