Forced To Be The Mafia King's Bride novel Chapter 9

Gia’s POV

The door slammed shut behind us.

Before I could gather my breath, Dante tossed me onto the massive bed like I weighed nothing. The mattress dipped beneath me, but my heart fell faster.

I scrambled instinctively, retreating toward the headboard, my knees drawn in like a shield. But it was useless. There was no shielding myself from him, not from the way he looked at me, not from what I knew was coming.

He stood at the foot of the bed, tall and still, his presence swallowing the room. And his eyes, God, those eyes, grey and burning. The way he looked at me sent tingles shooting down my spine, awakening parts of me I didn’t even know existed.

“Come here,” he ordered.

I froze.

When I didn’t move, didn’t breathe, he stepped forward, grabbed my ankle, and with one smooth, possessive tug, dragged me toward the edge of the bed like I was his property.

“Pretty doll,” he murmured. “You do know what’s about to happen.”

My mouth parted, but no sound came out. So I nodded, a soft surrender.

He cupped my cheek as his thumb brushed over my skin, gently, and it confused me. It shouldn’t have felt good, but it did. Too good.

A tremble coursed through me, and I flinched, not from fear but from the rush of sensation his touch provoked.

“I’m ready,” I whispered, lying back stiffly, eyes squeezing shut. “You can start.”

That was a desperate lie. I was anything but ready.

My entire body trembled, not just from fear but from the weight of everything.

This wasn’t about it being my first time, but everything else.

My father made sure I was never allowed to have friends, let alone a boyfriend.

I’d never so much as kissed a boy, never gone to parties, never flirted.

I wasn’t allowed on dates, not to school dances, not even to the mall without a guard.

The men he assigned to me made sure no one ever dared to get close.

I wasn’t allowed to watch anything romantic or remotely inappropriate. Everything I did was monitored.

The only glimpses I had of what romance or sex could be like came from the forbidden novels my aunt used to sneak under my pillow, and from what I learned in biology class.

That was it. Just the basics.

And now, I was lying here, nervous, completely out of my depth, about to be touched and claimed by a man who saw me as nothing but a body to unleash his revenge on.

When I opened my eyes, I expected to find him undressing or climbing over me.

But he hadn’t moved.

He stood there, watching me in disbelief.

He tilted his head and let out a low chuckle, soft and almost mocking.

“Pretty doll,” he repeated, voice heavy with something darker. “You don’t make the rules here. I do. And no… you’re not just going to lie there like a piece of meat waiting for slaughter.”

His tone shifted, deeper, more primal. “You will be a willing participant.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Lying here without screaming while you do whatever you want, that’s participation enough. Don’t expect more.”

His smirk deepened. “You love testing me, don’t you? That mouth of yours...”

He moved closer. His thumb brushed over my lips so seductively it made me gasp.

“You’re going to learn what happens when you test me.”

“I… I wasn’t trying to,” I stammered. But even I didn’t believe it.

“Shhh.” He raised a single finger. “No more excuses.”

Then, with a glint of heat and hunger in his gaze, he said darkly, “Now, pretty doll… I want to see you naked.”

“What?”

“Strip,” he repeated, slower this time. “A special tease. Just for me.”

My insides twisted with disgust. “No. I won’t,” I said firmly. “I refuse to dance naked for the man who shot my father.”

His expression shifted slightly, and a glint of amusement flashed in his eyes.

“You’re aware I bought your virginity?”

“And I’m fulfilling my end,” I fired back, chin high. “I’m offering my body. But you’re asking for something more.”

“More?” His voice dipped, colder. “You have no idea how much more this is going to be. You think this ends tonight?”

He reached for me again, dragging his fingers from my jaw down the center of my chest.

His touch was light, maddening. He paused at my cleavage, his thumb dipping between the swell of my breasts, barely grazing.

“You haven’t signed the mistress contract yet… but that doesn’t change what you are. And if you think you’ll keep your pride and your rules in this arrangement,” he leaned in, voice like a warning, “you’re sorely mistaken.”

I swallowed hard and forced myself to meet his eyes. “Then I’ll hold onto the one thing I still have left. Because I haven’t signed.”

That did it.

The smirk disappeared, replaced by a burning look of anger.

“Don’t play smart with me,” he warned. “It won’t end well.”

I shifted subtly away from his touch, his presence suffocating.

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