HIS MAFIA BRIDE

Chapter Two - The Bride They Chose

When I woke up, everything was dark.

My head felt heavy, like someone had filled it with stones. My arms were stiff, pressed against something that hummed beneath me. It took me a second to realize I was lying across leather seats. The smell of it—sharp, mixed with cologne and gasoline—clung to my nose until I coughed.

I tried to move, but a voice snapped from the front.

“Stay down.”

The words cut like glass. I froze.

My eyes adjusted slowly. The windows beside me were black, tinted, showing nothing of the world outside. Only the faint glow of passing lights cut across the car’s ceiling, quick and sharp, like knives flashing.

Panic crept up my throat.

“Where… where am I?” My voice came out hoarse, too small.

No answer.

The two men in front didn’t even look at me. They just kept driving. Their shoulders were broad, their suits crisp, their silence louder than my racing heartbeat.

I sat up a little, pressing my back into the cold leather. My hands trembled in my lap.

“Please. I—I don’t understand. Why are you doing this?”

One of them finally turned his head, just enough for me to catch his profile in the glow of the dashboard. His jaw was square, his eyes blank.

“Shut up.”

That was it. Nothing more. Just a command.

I swallowed hard, pushing my lips together. My throat burned, but I stayed quiet.

The car kept moving, winding through streets I couldn’t see. My sense of time slipped away, replaced by the steady thud of tires on pavement. I thought about Uncle Ron—how he must have reached the café and found only my bag, maybe my sheet music scattered on the floor. The thought tore at me.

The car slowed. My stomach flipped.

Through the tinted glass, faint shapes appeared. Tall gates. Iron, sharp at the top like spears. They groaned as they opened, letting us in. Beyond them, shadows stretched across a long driveway lined with trimmed hedges. At the end, lights glowed against stone walls—gold against black night.

The car rolled to a stop in front of a mansion that looked more like a fortress. Huge. Elegant. But cold. The windows were tall and narrow, like eyes that didn’t blink. Marble steps led up to massive doors, guarded by men in black suits.

The one in the passenger seat got out first, opening my door. His hand clamped around my arm.

“Move.”

I stumbled out, my legs weak from fear. The night air was sharp, colder than I expected. It smelled like pine and something metallic.

I craned my neck up at the house, my chest tightening. Whoever lived here wasn’t normal. This wasn’t a home. It was a kingdom. And I was being dragged into it.

Inside, the air changed again. Warmer, but heavier. My shoes sank into thick carpets as the men pushed me down a hall lined with chandeliers. Paintings of stern-faced men glared down from the walls. Gold frames, marble floors, velvet curtains—everything screamed wealth. But none of it felt safe.

I tried again, my voice breaking.

“Please. Tell me why I’m here. Did I do something wrong?”

The man beside me gave a low chuckle, but there was no humor in it.

“You’ll learn soon enough. Until then—keep quiet.”

They shoved me into a room and shut the door behind me.

I stumbled forward, catching myself on a polished table. The room was large, with a bed too big for one person and curtains that touched the floor. A chandelier hung above, dripping crystals that sparkled under soft light. It was beautiful, but the kind of beautiful that made my stomach twist.

I ran to the door, pulling the handle. Locked.

I banged once, twice.

“Hello? Please! You can’t keep me here!”

My voice echoed back at me. No reply.

I pressed my forehead against the wood, my breath quick and shallow.

Minutes—or maybe hours—passed. My legs gave out, and I sank onto the bed. My fingers dug into the silk sheets, searching for some kind of anchor. None came.

The door finally opened with a heavy creak.

A man walked in. He wasn’t one of the guards. He was older, tall, dressed in a dark suit that looked like it had been stitched from power itself. His hair was silver at the temples, combed back neatly. His eyes—sharp, calculating—swept over me like I was a piece of furniture.

“Liana Hale,” he said, his voice smooth but cold.

I flinched. “Y-yes.”

“You’ll forget that name soon.” He stepped closer, hands clasped behind his back. “From this night forward, you belong to the Valenti family.”

My chest tightened.

“I don’t understand—”

“You don’t need to.” He cut me off, his tone flat. “Your questions are irrelevant. What matters is that you listen. You obey. And you stay silent unless spoken to. Do you understand?”

I stared at him, my mouth dry. “Why me?”

Something flickered in his eyes. Not softness—never that. More like annoyance. He leaned down slightly, his voice dropping lower.

“Because you are untouched. A clean slate. A girl with no ties to any family. That makes you useful.”

His words hit me like a slap. Useful. That was all I was to him.

“You’re going to marry my son, Adrian.”

The air left my lungs. “Marry—what?”

He straightened again, looking down at me like I was already defeated.

“It is decided. The ceremony will happen soon. You will not resist. If you try, you will regret it.”

I shook my head, heat rising behind my eyes. “I can’t—I don’t even know him!”

The man’s lips curved, but it wasn’t a smile. It was a warning.

“You will. And you will play the role I give you. Or you’ll find out what happens to those who defy me.”

Before I could respond, the door opened again.

And he walked in.

Adrian Valenti.

He was younger than I expected—mid-twenties maybe—but there was nothing soft about him. His dark hair was tousled like he’d run a hand through it in frustration. His suit was crisp, tailored perfectly, but his blue eyes were sharper than glass.

He stopped just inside the door, his gaze falling on me. Cold. Assessing. Like he already knew he hated what he saw.

“Father.” His voice was deep, steady. “This is her?”

“Yes.” The older man—Dante, gestured toward me like I was a piece of property he was presenting. “Your bride.”

Adrian’s jaw tightened. His eyes didn’t leave mine, but they didn’t soften either.

“I told you I don’t want this.”

“You don’t have a choice,” Dante said simply. “Unless you prefer your cousin to inherit everything you’ve worked for.”

The silence stretched, heavy and suffocating.

Adrian finally stepped closer. His eyes burned into me. I wanted to look away, but I couldn’t.

He leaned in slightly, his voice low enough that only I could hear.

“This isn’t my choice. Don’t think for a second I wanted you here.”

The weight of his words sank into me like ice.

I sat frozen on the edge of the bed, my hands gripping the sheets until my knuckles turned white. His presence filled the room, taller than the walls, heavier than the chandelier above. I wanted to disappear into the floor.

Dante watched us both like a king inspecting his pawns. His expression didn’t shift, not even when Adrian’s voice dripped with resentment.

“You will marry her,” Dante said, his tone final, like the swing of a judge’s gavel. “And you will treat her as your wife, no matter how you feel.”

Adrian’s laugh was bitter, sharp.

“Wife? She’s a stranger dragged off the street.” His eyes snapped back to me, piercing. “Look at her. Does she even know what kind of house this is? What kind of family?”

Heat rushed to my face, but I kept my mouth shut. Speaking only seemed to make things worse.

Dante stepped closer to his son, his voice calm but carrying weight that shook me more than shouting would.

“You don’t need to want this. You only need to obey. If you refuse, the cousin you despise so much will sit in your chair. He will inherit everything. And you—” his gaze hardened, “—will have nothing.”

Adrian’s jaw clenched. For a long moment, he didn’t move, didn’t breathe. Then, slowly, he turned away, his fists flexing at his sides.

Dante nodded, satisfied. “Good. Then it’s settled.”

I opened my mouth, the words bursting before I could stop them.

“I don’t want this either.”

Both men turned to me at once.

Adrian’s eyes narrowed dangerously, but it was Dante who moved first. He crossed the room in two strides, leaning down until his face was level with mine. His voice was soft, but it slid across my skin like a blade.

“You don’t have a choice, girl. You will be silent. You will obey. Or you will learn very quickly that disobedience in this house is punished.”

My throat closed. I nodded quickly, swallowing back the tears burning behind my eyes.

“Good.” He straightened, smoothing his jacket as though nothing had happened. “Tomorrow, you will be fitted. Soon after, the ceremony. Until then, you stay in this house. No wandering. No questions. Am I clear?”

“Yes,” I whispered.

Adrian’s voice cut through the silence. “I want a word with her. Alone.”

Dante studied him for a moment, then nodded. “Don’t waste my time with games, Adrian. Remember what’s at stake.”

With that, he left the room, the door shutting heavily behind him.

The silence that followed was suffocating.

Adrian turned back to me, stepping closer. His eyes flicked over me like I was something he was trying to solve, a puzzle he didn’t trust.

“You don’t belong here,” he said finally. His voice was low, almost a growl. “But you’re here now. And that makes you dangerous.”

“Dangerous?” My voice cracked. “I don’t even know what’s happening.”

“Exactly.” He leaned in, so close I could see the flecks of darker blue in his irises. “Nobody is that innocent. Not in this world. So I’ll find out what you’re hiding. And when I do…” His lips curved, but it wasn’t a smile. “…don’t expect mercy.”

My breath caught. “I’m not hiding anything.”

He gave a short, humorless laugh. “We’ll see.”

He stepped back, his eyes still locked on mine. “Until then, don’t mistake this for anything more than a cage. You’re not here because I wanted you. I already have what I want.”

The words stung, even though I didn’t fully understand them. But before I could ask, the door cracked open again. A woman’s voice floated in, soft and smooth.

“Adrian?”

I turned, my heart sinking.

She stood in the doorway—tall, stunning, her blonde hair spilling over her shoulders, her dress hugging every perfect curve. She looked like she belonged in this house, in his world, in his arms. And the way she smiled at him told me she was used to being there.

Adrian’s expression shifted, almost imperceptibly, but enough. His jaw relaxed. His eyes softened.

“Go home,” he told her quietly.

Her smile widened. “Later, then?”

He didn’t answer. Just gave her a look I couldn’t decipher.

The woman’s eyes flicked to me, sharp and dismissive, before she slipped away.

The silence that followed pressed down on me like stone.

Adrian turned back, his face once again cold, unreadable.

“You see? I don’t need a wife. I don’t need you.”

My chest ached, though I couldn’t explain why.

He stepped closer again, his voice dropping to a whisper meant only for me.

“But until my father’s deal is done, you’ll play your part. If you don’t…” His gaze darkened, hard as steel. “…then you won’t survive this house.”

My pulse hammered, every instinct screaming at me to run. But there was nowhere to go. No way out.

Adrian’s eyes bored into mine, and I knew he meant every word.

The door slammed shut behind him, leaving me trapped in the silence.

And for the first time, I realized—I wasn’t just a pawn in someone else’s game.

I was the prize.

And prizes don’t get to choose.