Scarred Hearts: A Mafia Billionaire Romance

The reception had taken place in the great ballroom of the Blackwood estate, a lavish affair of crystal chandeliers casting shimmering light across polished marble floors. Leya swam through the crowd, accepting well-wishes from the guests she didn't know, nodding politely at their empty compliments. But all the while, she had the feeling that she was a ghost wafting through a life that wasn't hers. She caught a glimpse of Harrison across the room, similarly flanked by his family and his business associates, wearing the same detached expression, his smile never quite reaching his eyes. A prisoner in this arrangement too, though his prison was one of power and expectation, not desperation. As the evening wore on, she found herself standing beside the big bay window, looking down into the sprawling gardens below. Laughter and clinking glasses faded through the background as she allowed herself for a moment to breathe in the weight of everything that happened. She felt her mother com

Leya sat alone in her room, the soft light from the lamp casting enough glow to chase away the shadows that seemed to cling to the walls. The air was thick and suffocating as if the mansion itself were alive, pressing down on her from all sides. She sat down leaning against the headboard, her fingers straying aimlessly across the embroidered patterns of the bedspread while her mind fell back to recollections of the time past. The nights had become her only solace, those scant times when she could be left to her thoughts alone, away from the freezing stare of Harrison, the chain of belittling remarks from Vivian, and the constant prying eyes of Eleanor. It was in this quiet that she remembered what it had been like to be herself, before marriage, before the death of her father, before the walls of this mansion closed in on her as though in a prison. And as it was the case, her thoughts took her back to her father's study. She could almost envision him now, sitting behind the desk, h

The air had been thick and stagnant out there like a coiled spring, and Leya braked hard, Harrison's last words in the empty room echoing in her head.Goodnight, wife.She bit down hard on her cheek and took a breath. Her flesh was taut underneath where he was pressed atop hers, his pressure digging into her skin. She wasn't sure if the chill on top of her spine was fear or anger.Or both.Harrison was aware of it. Had been strewn about how his eyes had rested on her, imposing defective stubbornness over him. And he'd fought more fought against it—he'd risen up in protest. He had swirled her about like some plaything that revolved within his brain, unaware as to whether or not she would go back to it.Her hands trembled and she hated it. Hated thin, hated being trapped in her own boudoir. She fought just to get herself out of bed, lead legs, shambling into the room to the window. In the mansion window outside, the mansion lawn spreads and stretches, glimmering in dark moonlight. Iron

Leya leaned against the stone wall for a moment after Harrison departed, attempting to catch her breath. The air now felt colder with him gone, his scent-scented, clean-pervading still clinging around the greenhouse. She forced the notebook into her palm, her mind spinning at what he'd stated. He doubted that she did believe him—he was good with that. She never thought that he would, though. But how that he spoke, in which he seemingly could not accomplish that which was happening, shook her to the core of herself more than she ever would concede. Harrison was ever capable, ever hard and unstoppable. And this evening, she glimpsed something—a fear or uncertainty. She wasn't going to sit around waiting for him or anyone else to make a move, She must attempt to get something out of Samuel regarding what he had been holding back and why it mattered to him. Slipping unnoticed out of the greenhouse, Leya crept unseen back into the mansion. She did not go through the front door and glided

Leya gasped, looking at the burned letter, Samuel's words branded like a cancerous blessing in her mind."If they find out what you are—"What was she?All that she had seemed to roll away from her like loose marble, leaving her chilled. She balled the burned paper in her hand, heat branding the shape of her palm where ash foamed like hidden secrets.Shayla watched her with wide eyes. “Leya… what does it mean?”“I don’t know,” she whispered, though her voice was sharp, her spine steel. “But I’m going to find out.”Moments Later – Harrison’s WingThe hallway leading to Harrison’s private rooms was veiled in shadow, the sconces dimmed, casting sharp lines on the marble. Leya stormed forward, no longer caring about being silent, about being proper.She wasn’t here for answers anymore.She'd arrived in needing the truth—and she was going to get it out of him if it was the very last thing she ever drew breath.Guards to his front gate started tattling, but one glimpse at her—and off they s