Forced To Be The Mafia King's Bride novel Chapter 14

Gia’s POV

When I woke early this morning, I was stunned to find Dante lying beside me on the bed, sound asleep.

For a moment, I just stared at him, stunned that the devil himself could look so peaceful in sleep.

Then came the rush of panic at my hellish reality, and an idea struck in my head. There he was, so vulnerable and unguarded.

I could end it all.

Silently, I slid out of bed, careful not to wake him. I didn’t know exactly what I was searching for until instinct led me to his discarded pants.

My fingers slipped into the pocket, and that’s when I found the knife.

My pulse quickened as I held it in my hand. And just like that, a single thought came, Kill him. Take your revenge. End it.

Now, here I was, straddling him, knife in hand, pressed against his throat.

My hands were shaking.

When his eyes snapped open, I froze, expecting fear.

But there wasn’t any.

He just looked at me with that calm, infuriating smirk, like he was still in control even when I had his life in my hands.

My grip tightened. Why wasn’t he afraid?

“Pretty doll,” he murmured, folding his arms leisurely behind his head like he was watching a circus show. “What do you think you’re doing?”

That smirk, I wanted to rip it off his face.

“Wipe that stupid grin off your face,” I snapped, trying to sound fierce, but I wasn’t sure it worked.

“Why should I?” he drawled, tone rich with mockery. “You’re entertaining me with your little display of sheer foolishness.”

My jaw clenched. “How dare you call me stupid, Mr. Dante? When I could so easily slit your throat, take vengeance for my father, and free myself from your cold hands?”

“Pretty doll, you’re even more naive than I thought.”

He chuckled softly, before his voice dropped to a gravel tone that chilled me.

“So you kill me. Then what? How do you plan on escaping? Because I have my most trusted guard stationed right outside that door... as we speak.”

Shit.

He was right.

Even if I managed to kill him, the house would be swarming with guards. Every exit would be blocked, making it impossible for me to escape.

I hadn’t thought it through, I just acted.

He tilted his head, still perfectly composed. “So, my pretty little doll, what’s it going to be? Kill me and end your own life? Or put that silly knife down and I’ll forgive your childish way, and we can get on with our day.”

His voice deepened, like a warning. “Tik... tok... In this world, time is money. Don’t waste mine.”

My hands shook harder against his throat. His skin was warm, brown, and too smooth for a mafia boss.

I couldn’t help it, my eyes dropped down the carved ridges of his chest, the tight planes of his abs, to where the sheets just barely covered him at the waist.

If I killed him, there was no way I’d be able to drag that solid body into hiding, let alone clean the mess his blood would make. The white sheets would soak it all in, proof of my crime.

And while I straddled him, lost in thought like an idiot, without realizing I’d lowered the knife slightly until he moved.

Dante’s hand shot up and gripped mine, hard. I gasped as pain coursed through my wrist, and the knife slipped from my hold.

He snatched it from my fingers like I was nothing, and before I could blink, he flipped me and I landed hard on the bed with a breathless yelp.

He pinned me beneath him, his entire weight pressing down, intentionally suffocating me.

I squirmed, struggling, but he didn’t budge.

And then... the cold bite of steel returned, this time at my neck.

My body stiffened as our eyes locked.

“My pretty doll...” he murmured, voice low and lethal, “now your life is in my hands.”

The blade pushed deeper, just a little, but enough to make me afraid. One more push, and I’d bleed out.

Fear gripped my bones as my lips parted, and my voice broke.

Then my lips parted, trembling, and I took his thumb into my mouth.

The taste hit me instantly, warm, metallic, foreign. I nearly pulled away, repulsed by the primal act he was forcing on me. But then... something shifted.

My tongue swirled against his skin, and I felt it, his breath hitch. A low, rough growl escaped him, like the feel of my mouth on him was driving him insane.

I was no longer doing it because he told me to. A dark part of me that he had awakened wanted to.

His thumb between my lips, the power in his stare, it stirred a craving to take back the control he took from me and handed back in the same breath.

“Enough,” he rasped.

But I gave one last teasing swirl of my tongue before letting go.

He dragged that same thumb down to part my lower lip, his eyes devouring me.

“That mouth of yours... is divine.”

His hand moved into my hair, fingers threading gently through the strands.

His touch was too subtle for a man who had just held a knife to my throat.

My breath quickened as his eyes stayed locked on mine, and my chest rose and fell like I couldn’t get enough air.

Was this what passion felt like?

Holy Mary!

I looked at him then, really looked.

My eyes traced the features of his face.

His jaw was sharp, eyes grey and piercing. There were soft lines of silver in his dark hair, barely visible unless you were this close. He didn’t look that much older, but he carried himself like he’d lived a hundred lives.

His beard was rough, stubby, and I had the sudden urge to run my fingers along it just to know what it felt like. His breath mingled with mine. I could hear his heartbeat thudding in sync with my own.

But before I could process what was happening, he leaned in.

His lips crashed against mine, hard.