Claimed by My Mafia Stepson

CHAPTER 1

‘Belong to You’ by Sabrina Claudio played as he peeled the silk strap of my nightdress down my shoulder until my breasts were exposed.

It was wrong. I shouldn’t want him. I shouldn’t even be here.

He was off limits. Dangerous. Sin wrapped in a sturdy body.

A line I should never have crossed

And tonight?

Tonight was my wedding night.

It was supposed to be the happiest night of my life— but I wasn't in my husband's bed.

I was miles away, in the arms of a man I just met.

He was younger. Dark espresso eyes. A chiseled jaw. Straight nose. Brows carved to perfection.

A prominent tattoo on his neck—a stylized crown.

His cologne was addictive. It smelled like trouble.

Yet every part of me ached for him.

Was it... Too late to walk away? Or had I already crossed the line?

Six hours earlier...

The wedding bells echoed through the air as I walked down the aisle with my father.

It still felt surreal.

After so many heartbreaks, I was about to tie the knot with him.

Androa Morvanti.

The richest man in the city, a man whose name alone commanded the city’s respect.

He could have had anyone. Women who wore diamonds to bed. Women who never glance at tags in the mall.

Yet he chose me.

“Are you nervous?” my father asked.

I glanced at him.

He wore the biggest smile tonight.

The proud dad witnessing the wedding of his only child.

Had Mom not lost her life to cancer? She'd probably be here too.

“My feet are shaky, father,” I whispered. “Please, don't let me fall.”

He met my gaze. “Not a chance.”

The moment I saw my groom, the knot in my stomach melted and was replaced by butterflies.

We arrived under the arch and my father turned back.

My heart pounded as I faced my groom.

“I, Androa Morvanti, take you, Madeline Bennett, to be my lawfully wedded wife. To have and to hold until death do us part.”

“I, Madeline Bennett, take you, Androa Morvanti, to be my lawfully wedded husband. To have and to hold until death do us part.”

“I pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

An applause rippled across the garden as Androa wrapped his arms around my waist and leaned down.

The kiss was brief. Polite.

Not the kind that stole breath or sparked warmth in my chest.

When he pulled back— he was smiling at the guests.

Not at me.

I smiled and tried not to let that bother me.

We turned to the guests as they approached us, exchanging smiles and pleasantries until a lady in a red dress approached us.

She was younger. Slender. Hair swept to the side to reveal a diamond necklace.

It was the way she looked at Androa— like someone who knew him far too well.

“Well, well, well… the latest couple in town.” She drawled. “Congratulations to you, Mr. and Mrs. Morvanti.”

Something passed between them. Gone so quickly I thought I'd imagined it.

“Sorry. Do you two know each other?”

Androa glanced at me. “She's family.”

I blinked.

Of course, I'd only known him for a month. There was no way I could have known every member of his family so soon.

I extended a hand. “I'm Madeline.”

She stared at my hand. “Elisa.”

My cheeks burned as I lowered my hand.

“I'll see you around,” Androa said dismissively.

He placed a hand at the small of my back, guiding me away toward the Morvanti Grand Ballroom. But his gaze kept drifting to her.

The doors of the grand ballroom opened as we approached, revealing crystal chandeliers and tables draped in silk.

Guests cheered. Cameras flashed as we stepped onto the platform, fed each other cake, and shared a sip of wine.

Then I caught Elisa looking at me.

She stood at the back of the room, a wine glass in hand.

Slowly, she lifted her glass toward me in a silent toast.

My breath caught.

I turned to Androa, but he was smiling for the cameras again.

The guests clapped as Androa led me to the floor for our first dance.

And the night unfolded like a flower.

Soon the guests left, their laughter and chatter fading into the night. Androa and I saw them off at the terrace.

Footsteps approached us. My father.

He glanced at Androa. “Please, take good care of my daughter.”

Androa nodded. No words.

I went into his embrace.

“I'll miss you, Dad.”

It didn't matter how old I was. Whether four or forty. I was still that little girl who always wanted to make him proud.

He smiled. “I'll miss you too, dear.”

My chest tightened and tears spilled watching him go.

Alone, but at least he was finally at peace, knowing I was 'settled'.

“Go on. Freshen up. I'll soon be with you,” Androa said. He kissed my cheek and headed away.

I traced my way to my bedroom.

My heart raced as I showered and slipped into one of the lacy night dresses I'd bought specially for tonight. Doused myself in perfume and slid under the covers.

An hour passed.

But there was no sign of Androa.

“Androa?”

I stepped into the hallway and it was empty. Not a member of the staff in sight.

Something felt… off.

Then I heard it— a moan coming from the last room.

“Yes, baby! F*ck me harder!”

Elisa.

Maybe she was with one of the guests—

Then a second voice answered her.

“Yes, baby. You like that?”

My stomach twisted.

No.

Androa?

I pushed the door open and stopped.

Elisa was straddling my husband—the man who had just promised to hold me until death—on the bed we were supposed to share.