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The Mafia Don's Captive Bride

BLURB “Let me go! You can't do this to me!” I say in despair, pulling harshly on the chains binding my arms together as Alessandro brings the scary whip closer to me. “Who's going to stop me?” Alessandro asks in a rock hard tone as he lightly flicks his wrist, the tip of the whip hitting my ribs and leaving a trail of fire in its wake. “Fuck you, you shit-eating maniac. I hope you stumble down the stairs and break your neck!” I scream profanities at him as my body writhes in unimaginable pain. “Please. Please, I'm begging you. You have to stop.” I beg him as I break down crying, unable to withstand the pain any longer. “You know what I want, piccola morte. Admit you killed my wife and all this would be over.” Little death. Alessandro says in a tone that makes me grind my teeth in anger. “I have nothing to do with the death of your wife!” I say as sad tears slip from my eyes and down my cheeks when I spot the determined look in his eyes. “Then we will keep doing this till you admit the truth.” Alessandro says as he pushes away from me, the hard look on his face solidifying my feelings of fear. I was doomed. _____________________________ Blamed for the death of his wife, Aurelia’s life is made hell by Alessandro, the Don of the Italian Mafia. What happens when all that Alessandro has worked for is on the line and he finds himself in need of a wife? Will the truth come to light or will Aurelia continue to live in the shadows of Alessandro's dead wife? Will Aurelia be able to bring Alessandro out of the dark and into the light or will she also drown?

irisayuk123 · perkotaan
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58 Chs

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR: Unknown Spice.

AURELIA'S POV:

"It looks so perfect!" Gia says gushing over the plate of food. I had to tap into the skills I learnt while waitressing to stylishly stack the pasta in order to give it an expensive look.

I grudgingly admit to myself that the food indeed looks like it was made at a high end restaurant.

"It's okay, I guess." I say with a nonchalant shrug of my shoulders, refusing to take note of the happy feelings swirling in my chest.

Gia gives me a knowing look which I proceed to promptly ignore. She helps me set the food at the dining table. She places a pitcher of juice beside the food and I can't help but admire the final look.

If I had a phone with me, I would have taken a picture of all this in order to prove to myself that I didn't dream up all of this.

My knees bounce under the table nervously as I wait for Alessandro to join me. I had served myself a generous portion, mine not as perfect as his.