Forced To Be The Mafia King's Bride novel Chapter 23

Dante’s POV

I sat in the back, eyes fixed on the road ahead as the city faded behind us, replaced by trees and open land. Bruno was driving fast, but not reckless. He knew better than to waste a second.

My chest was tight, and it had nothing to do with the seatbelt. I hadn’t felt this kind of fear in years. I called Seline three times. No answer. I called Ariel a dozen more, and still nothing. Each unanswered ring sent my mind spiraling through every worst-case scenario.

My throat was dry. My fingers clenched around my phone like I could squeeze answers from it. I didn’t even realize how hard I was gripping it until Bruno spoke from the front seat.

“She’ll be fine,” Bruno finally said, voice low, eyes on the road ahead. “You know how she gets sometimes... when...”

“Don’t,” I cut in, harsher than I meant to. I didn’t need him to finish that sentence. Didn’t need the reminder.

Bruno knew when to shut up. He’d been with me long enough to recognize when I was spiraling. Only a few men knew about this side of my life, this hidden world I kept locked away from everything else. Bruno was one of them.

Ariel didn’t live with me. After her mother was murdered, I moved her and Seline, my sister-in-law, somewhere safe. It was meant to be temporary, just until things settled down. But they never did.

So I bought hectares of land outside the city and built them a home, secluded by dense trees, protected by motion sensors, armed guards, and the works. Men who’d take a bullet before letting anything happen to her.

No one got in or out without my say. Not even Bruno. Only a handful of my most trusted men knew where the house was, or where Ariel went to school. No one got near her.

After what happened to my wife, I wasn’t taking any more chances. That’s why I let the rest of the world believe Ariel died with her mother. It was the only way to keep her safe.

She was my most protected secret. My greatest weakness. And I’d burn the whole fucking world to the ground before letting it touch her again.

But that didn’t stop the fear... the what-ifs. The voice in my head that never fully shut off.

“She has to be okay,” I muttered under my breath, not realizing I’d spoken aloud.

“She will be,” Bruno said. “We’re five minutes out.”

I nodded once, jaw tight, fingers digging into my thighs. I hated this feeling of helplessness.

We reached the house.

As always, the trees shielded the compound from the road, tall and impossible to see through. Men were stationed at every hidden post, and once they saw our car, the gates opened.

Bruno barely parked before I was out of the car.

I walked straight to the front door.

Mario was stationed there, one of my oldest and most reliable men.

“Don Dante,” he greeted quickly, standing at attention.

“Why the hell hasn’t anyone in this house been picking up their damn phones?” I barked, not slowing down.

Mario blinked, startled, patting down his jacket and pants before stammering, “I... I must have left my phone somewhere, sir, I swear I didn’t...”

I shook my head, disappointed. “Mario, you should know better.”

He swallowed hard, but I didn’t stick around to hear whatever excuse came next. I pushed the door open and moved through the house fast.

I crossed the living room, scanning everything. No sign of Ariel. Where the hell is she...?

I rushed up the stairs, barely thinking. My mind kept circling the same question—was she okay?

When I reached her room, I didn’t knock. My hand went straight for the handle and pushed the door open fast.

My eyes immediately landed on the bed.

Ariel was lying there, curled up in that pink blanket her mom gave her. The one she’s had since she was little. She never sleeps without it. It’s not just a blanket to her, it’s the only thing she has left that still smelled like her mother. That thing was comfort and safety for her.

And seeing her wrapped in it, eyes open, still breathing, I felt a wave of relief run through me. Like I’d been holding my breath since the moment I got the call, and now I could finally let it out.

Her head turned toward me.

“Dad!” she said, her face lighting up like it always does when she sees me.

That one word, in her sweet, soft, innocent voice, was like music I didn’t know I’d been dying to hear until I finally heard it again. It went straight to my heart and knocked the air out of me.

I walked straight to her bed. Selene was sitting by her side. She looked up at me and offered a soft smile.

“Dante,” she greeted quietly.

I barely glanced her way. “Selene,” I said curtly. That was all I could manage.

But this isn’t just about school.

Because I know what else she’s carrying, the pain of watching her mother get shot and bleed out right in front of her.

The fainting spells started after that. No warning, no pattern. One moment we’d be having dinner, and the next she’d collapse like her body had just shut down.

I flew in specialists from around the world. Ran every test. Scanned every cell in her body. But nothing. No diagnosis. No explanation. No medical name.

They said it could be a physiological response to grief. Emotional exhaustion. Trauma from the past. Stress-related, they claimed.

But I knew better. A major trigger had to be when she was kidnapped by Vincenzo’s men, vile bastards who locked her in a pitch-dark room, with no food or water.

She was just a child.

That could’ve been what pushed her over the edge. And it’s why I’ve done everything in my power to eliminate stress from her life since then.

I carefully filtered her social interactions. Built a perfect little bubble with zero pressure. She never lacked for anything. I made damn sure of that. But sometimes... it still happened.

And when it did, I always blamed myself.

I could take a bullet. Survive an ambush. Endure betrayal. But nothing shattered me like watching her little body go limp... eyes closed, lips pale. Fragile in a way I could never protect her from.

I didn’t need a label. I just knew what I saw.

My little girl was breaking down from the inside, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

I looked down at her and gently lifted her chin so she’d look at me.

“Sweetheart,” my voice was gentle with a firm undertone, “we talked about this. No pushing yourself too hard. No stress. None of this is worth your health, you understand?”

Ariel pouted a little, shrinking under both our gazes. “I know, Dad. I just... I wanted to make you proud.”

God.

I closed my eyes for a second, breathed through the ache in my chest. Then I cupped her cheek.

“You already make me proud. Every single day. You don’t have to prove anything to me, ever. Just be okay. That’s all I care about.”