Chapter 1

The clock ticked past midnight, and I lay still fast asleep, unaware of the world around me. After a long and exhausting day, I craved the calmness of a peaceful rest at night. Suddenly, a heavy weight pressed down beside me on the bed, sinking my petite form deeper into the mattress. Panic surged through me, and I bolted upright, my eyes darting through the darkness of the room. Those intense, bright blue eyes pierced through the gloom, staring back at me with mixed emotions I knew all too well but still couldn’t quite understand. 

I didn’t need to turn on the light to know who it was. I knew it was him—his touch, his scent, his eyes, and the heat radiating from his body.

 “Why are you wearing panties?” he growled dangerously in my ear, sending a shiver of fear down my spine. “Did you forget that I told you not to wear them and to always be ready for me in our bed?” 

My heart raced. I didn’t want to provoke my husband, his rage was an unpleasant one. Alessandro Valentino, the Mafia lord of Western Italy—my husband. I had been so exhausted and sick lately that I had forgotten everything he had said. 

Alessandro was undeniably wealthy and handsome, but he was also incredibly dangerous. Upsetting him could lead to serious consequences—like a bullet to the head. Our marriage wasn’t a mutual one; it was an arranged union. Alessandro married me because his grandfather insisted on it. I was an orphan who had saved his grandfather’s life, and he believed I was the perfect bride for his grandson. When Alessandro resisted, his grandfather threatened to disown him, stripping him of all his inheritance, including the Mafia empire and Valentino Enterprises. His grandfather was a strong figure in the Mafia, and no one dared defy him, at least no one who valued their lives did.

From the start, Alessandro didn’t care for me; he often called me a gold digger and never missed a chance to express his disdain. I lay there, his burning gaze fixed on me as he pressed his naked body against mine softly. My skin reacted involuntarily to his touch, but then he tore my panties away and entered me without warning, making me cry out in pain. I wasn’t prepared for this; I had no intention of having sex tonight. 

“Fuck, you’re so dry,” he grunted, disgust etched on his features. “And how many times have I told you to take a bath and change your clothes before going to sleep? You smell so bad, like sweat and spices.” 

After three years of this, I had come to accept that he didn’t love me, and his constant insults destroyed my spirit. Still, I held onto a faint hope that one day he would love me. One day.

I turned my gaze away, biting my lip to suppress my tears. He buried his face in my neck, inhaling my scent as if savoring it, contrasting sharply with his belittling words. My breath hitched as his fingers brushed my clit, moving in slow, deliberate circles. His warm tongue traced along my throat, and I struggled to keep quiet, but the intensity overwhelmed me, and I uttered his name, “Ah, Alessandro!” 

He stopped abruptly, lifting his head to glare at me with an intimidating intensity. “What did you just say?” he groaned, his voice low and dangerously calm. 

“I… I’m sorry, Mr. Valentino,” I stammered, my voice trembling. I wasn’t allowed to ever call him by his first name; he had made that very clear. Only family and friends could do so. Apparently, I wasn't fit to be so, yet I was his wife.

“Correct. I’m only Mr. Valentino to you,” he replied coldly, his tone slicing through the air. “Fuck, you taste so bad,” he taunted, licking his finger soaked with my wetness, his icy gaze locked onto me. But he licked his finger clean as if relishing the taste. My heart sank as I felt the weight of his humiliation pressing down on me. 

I wanted to scream at him, to demand why he couldn’t leave me alone and go back to those women he paraded around during his high-society parties. But I knew better than to challenge the devil himself. I gazed into his eyes, expecting to see hatred, but they were unreadable, fixated on me as if I were the most beautiful thing in the world.

His fingers resumed their cruel torture, as he thrust into me with relentless force, my slickness enveloping him easily. His lips found mine, kissing me hungrily as if we’d been apart for years. Yet, we had sex every night, regardless of my exhaustion or his disgust for me. I couldn’t understand why he held such bitterness toward me and still couldn’t spend a night without me. 

If I didn’t know him so well, I might have mistaken his actions for those of a man in love. But I knew better—he was Alessandro Valentino, the most ruthless man in the world, with a heart as cold as ice. He was never gentle, always rough and merciless in bed. I was used to his aggression, but tonight, fear coursed through me as he quickened his pace. 

“Wait, Mr. Valentino!” I blurted, panic rising in my voice. 

“What’s wrong?” he replied, irritation creeping into his tone. 

“Please, be gentle tonight,” I whispered, my voice shaky. 

“What’s so special tonight?” he chuckled dryly. 

“I… I’m not feeling well,” I murmured, lowering my eyes. 

He grabbed my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. For a brief moment, I thought I saw concern in his icy blue eyes, but it vanished as quickly as it appeared. 

“What is this? A new trick of yours?” He narrowed his eyes. 

I remained silent, unwilling to respond. Growing impatient, he threw my legs over his shoulders and entered me deeply, rocking his hips slowly, drawing a gasp from my lips. 

“I enjoy seeing you in pain beneath me,” he admitted, a wicked grin on his face, which was exactly what I feared. It was clear he was not in the mood to listen to my pleas. So I lay there, like a lifeless body, letting him have his way. 

Surprisingly, he was gentle tonight, trying everything to make me climax, even though I tried not to respond. My body betrayed me, yielding to his seduction, and I hated it. After nearly two hours and three climaxes, he collapsed on top of me, exhausted. 

I gently touched his shoulder and rolled him to his side, struggling under his weight. But another worry chewed on my insides. For days, I’d felt nauseous, my body betraying me in ways I couldn’t ignore, something was obviously wrong. When my period didn’t come, I knew I had to face the truth. 

I took a test that morning, the little white stick confirmed my fears: I was pregnant. A wave of emotions had washed over me—joy, fear, uncertainty—but the most overwhelming was the aspect of telling Alessandro. He had made it abundantly clear from the beginning that he didn’t want a child with me, and just the thought of his reaction sent shivers down my spine. 

I couldn’t recall when I had forgotten to take my pill, leading to this miracle. But beneath my fear and uncertainty, a flicker of hope remained—a hope that maybe, just maybe, Alessandro would surprise me with understanding and acceptance, that this could be a new beginning for us, with a new life joining our family.