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Chapter 1
At our ring exchange, the ballroom screen flickered to life–showing me bound and violated, not our smiling faces.
Julian dropped my hand like poison, sliding the ring onto my best friend’s finger instead.
As I stumbled from the red carpet, Dante–her brother, the syndicate boss–caught me. A gunshot silenced the hall. Then, ten chests of gold arriv- ed as his bride price, and he proposed on the spot.
Three years later, IVF succeeded. But overhearing Dante’s conversation shattered me:
“Leaking Anya’s video
Peaches marry into the Sterling family. Her womb was just a vessel for Peaches‘ heir.”
I dialed his rival, voice steel–cold: “A billion–dollar deal. Interested?”
The vile banter inside the room continued w
“You’re a clever one, Boss. Swapping her prenatal vitamins with abortion pills so she couldn’t conceive naturally… forcing her into IVF. She’d proba- bly die of rage if she knew you’d already switched the embryo with one from Peaches and Julian.”
“Whether she lives or dies is none of my concern,” Dante’s voice was casual. “After the birth, I’ll just make up some excuse, say the baby didn’t
make it. She’ll just blame herself for not being able to carry it to term. It’s her honor to pave the way for Peaches‘ happiness.”
He tossed the lighter onto the table and stood up, his voice a low warning to everyone in the room. “Not a single word of what was said today
leaves this room. I need her to deliver this baby without any complications.”
I heard his man, a brute named Marco, slap his chest and laugh. “Don’t worry, Boss. That woman is dumb as a rock. We call her ‘Mrs. Dante‘ and
she actually thinks she’s the queen of this castle. She brings us food and drinks every day, completely clueless that I was the one who hand–picked the guys for that video.”
Someone else roared with laughter. “Marco, you’re too much! Why didn’t you pick me back then? I would’ve loved a taste…”
A fruit knife flew through the air, embedding itself in the floorboards right between the man’s legs. He went pale with terror.
“Have I not made myself clear?” Dante’s voice was a low growl. “Anya is my wife now. Anyone who dares to bring that up again, I will personally
end him.”
A younger subordinate mumbled, “Boss, it seems like you’re not entirely indifferent to her. She’s head over heels in love with you. Aren’t you afraid she’ll leave you when she finds out the truth?”
Dante scoffed. “So what? I’ll just knock her up again. Support her for the rest of her life. She’s a tainted, love–sick fool. A few sweet words and she‘ Il be licking my hand like a dog.”
The room erupted in laughter again. I stood frozen in the hallway, feeling as if I’d been struck by lightning. I clamped my hand over my mouth, cho- king back sobs that threatened to escape.
Footsteps approached the door. I spun around and fled downstairs, pouring myself a glass of the strongest whiskey and downing it in one go. The burn was searing, a fire racing to my head, and the tears I’d been holding back finally broke free.
I clutched my chest, the poison of their words echoing in my mind.
A week before my original wedding, I was kidnapped and endured a living hell for a day and a night. My then–fiancé, Julian, had held my hand, swearing he still loved me and wanted to marry me. But at the altar, he’d watched that video play and abandoned me, leaving me to be branded a whore by the world.
It was Dante who had stormed in, shooting the screen to pieces, pulling me into his arms, and fiercely shielding me from the jeers and insults. He’d presented me with ten chests of gold, telling me he had loved me for years and would die without regret if he could not have me as his wife. His unwavering gaze had conquered me.
And now, he was telling me it was all for Peaches.
No wonder Peaches had looked at me with that strange, knowing smile on my wedding day to Dante. I was kidnapped because she had called me, claiming her car broke down and asking me to pick her up. She knew all along. It was all a setup. She was mocking my stupidity, reveling in the fact that she had a man who would do anything for her.
And the three years of care and affection from Dante? A charade. A performance to squeeze every last bit of usefulness out of me.
I had mistaken my executioner for my savior. How utterly laughable.
My nails dug into my palms. I bit down, hard, the pain and hatred churning in my chest, the tears unstoppable.
A familiar scent enveloped me. Dante was kissing the corner of my eye, his brow furrowed in what looked like concern. He roared at the room, Which one of you sons of bitches made my wife cry? I’ll fucking kill him.”
The hall fell silent, everyone holding their breath.
He pulled a gun from his waistband and pressed it into my hand, wrapping his arms around me and guiding my hand to aim at the crowd. “Baby, you see anyone you don’t like, you just pull the trigger. I’ve got your back.”
The men he aimed at trembled like leaves, but none dared to move. In this country, Dante was the king of one of the two largest syndicates. No one crossed him.
I stopped when the barrel was pointed
at
Marco.
Marco’s eyes widened, his face white with fear. The words ‘I was the one who hand–picked the guys for that video‘ screamed in my ears like a curse. My chest heaved. My eyes were red with fury. I was about to squeeze the trigger when Dante pushed the gun down.
