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CHAPTER 16
Last Updated:
2025-01-31 14:05:50
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THE CARETAKER BRIDE CHAPTER 17
Faro shot me a wink as he bantered with a group of our Captains. I ignored it, keeping my focus on the double doors just as my mother and Isabella’s mother entered the room. Between them, they carried the sheet—a stark, unmistakable symbol of the night before. Without a word, they moved to the side of the room, draping it over two chairs like an offering to tradition.Beside me, Isabella let out a soft, choked gasp. Her cheeks flushed a deep crimson, the color creeping down her neck. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of the tablecloth. “This… this is beyond humiliating,” she whispered, her voice trembling with embarrassment.I glanced at her, noting the way her gaze darted nervously around the room, desperate to avoid the knowing eyes of our audience. “It’s a symbol of your honor,” I said, my voice low and firm. “You shouldn’t feel ashamed.”Her lips pressed into a thin line, but a glint in her eyes betrayed her attempt to hide her emotions. “A
Last Updated : 2025-01-31THE CARETAKER BRIDE CHAPTER 1
I stood there, frozen, my hands stained with blood. It clung to my skin like a scar that wouldn't fade. My eyes drifted to Gaia's lifeless body, her once vibrant presence now absent like an empty shell. My heart pounded in my ears, and I could feel my breath shaking as I took a step back. I closed the door quietly, ensuring that Daniele wouldn’t walk in and find her lifeless body. He didn’t need to see this. No one did.The sight of the red roses, discarded beside Gaia's body, hit me like a slap to the face. It was just as red as the blood that stained the sheets beneath her. I dialed my father’s number, the sound of it ringing a little too loud, and too harsh in the silence of the room.“Father,” I spoke, my voice urgent, emotionless, and hollow. I had no room for grief. Not now. Not ever. “Gaia is dead.”The silence that followed, was long, and unbearable. Then my father’s voice sliced through it, tight and strained. “Can you repeat that?”“Gaia is dead,” I said it again, the word
Last Updated : 2024-12-03THE CARETAKER BRIDE CHAPTER 2
During dinner, I noticed my father was completely distracted, his gaze resting on me, as if he wanted to say something but couldn't bring himself to. My mother, on the other hand, looked like she’d just received an invitation to an exclusive Chanel summer sale.I waited for my father’s permission to leave, after i finished my meal. My mind was already drifting to the painting I’d spent hours on that morning. It was a project I’d been immersed in, especially now that I’d graduated high school, finally giving my creative side some space to breathe.Then suddenly my dad cleared his throat rather loudly. “We need to have a talk with you,” he said.My pulse quickened. The last time he’d used those words was when he’d told me my fiancé had been killed in a Bratva attack. The news hadn’t affected me as deeply as I thought it would have; we’d only met once, years ago, and there was no connection between us. In short, i was somewhat grateful; the universe just wasn't in his position that day.
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Mom had made it clear that to me, that i wasn’t to meet Nicolasuntil our official introduction at dinner. I was supposed to stay in my room all afternoon like a good girl while my parents and supposed future husband discussed my future as if i were a child with no right to choices.I was dressed in my favorite denim overall dress, with a white tank top adorned with sunflowers beneath it, i patiently waited until i heard the bell. I took off my shoe and walked barefoot, moving quietly, creeping toward the upper landing and avoiding the creaky boards. I knelt down, making myself self as small as possible, and peered through the banister. From the sound of voices and my mum high pitched feminine greeting, my parents were exchanging pleasantries with the two men. My father appeared first, smiling his business smile, followed by her mother, who radiated delight. Then two men entered my field of view.It wasn’t hard to guess which one was Nicolas. He towered over her father and the other m
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I tried to make sense of the situation before me, as I stared at the girl before me. She looked back at me with wide, uncertain eyes, her lips slightly parted like she was waiting for me to say something. For a moment, I couldn’t place her. Then, it hit me—Isabella Rizzo, she's my future wife.Interesting.I studied her, my gaze moving from her bare feet up to her legs, covered in a faded denim dress, and then to her flowery top, which seemed more appropriate for a teenager than a woman about to marry into my kind world. Her hair, long and wavy, cascaded down her shoulders, but it was the bangs she still wore that caught my attention. There was something almost... charming about them.Beside me, Faro was clearly trying to stifle his laughter, but I wasn’t in the mood for amusement. Isabella had just called me “sir,” and it didn’t sit right with me at all.She shifted uncomfortably, clearly feeling the heavy weight of my stare. When I didn’t move, she stiffened and finally met my gaze,
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The door slammed loudly behind me, and I let out a long shaky breath, trying to shake off the chill Nicolas had left in me. His eyes, that cold, intense gaze of his, lingered in my mind like a scarred memory. The nerve of him—ordering me to change my wardrobe, like I had no say in the matter, like what i could wear was a choice he could make. How dare he? He wasn’t my father, and he sure as hell wasn’t my boss. But somehow, in that moment, it felt like he was both. I had barely closed my bedroom door when my mother’s voice rang through the house, snapping me out of my thoughts. “There you are! Where have you been?” she called, marching into the room her heels clicking fast on the floor. “Get in the closet, we need to get you ready. For God’s sake, Isabella, what are you wearing?”Before I could even react, she was already tugging at the fabric of my dress, pulling me toward the walk-in closet with an urgency that left no room for argument. I didn’t resist. My body moved like it was
Last Updated : 2024-12-03THE CARETAKER BRIDE CHAPTER 6: Nicolas Pov
The four months leading up to November passed in a blur for me—an endless cycle of sleepless nights, emotional outbursts, and grueling workdays. Time seemed to stretch and compress at the same time, leaving me drained but determined to push through.On the morning of my bachelor party, I crouched down in front of Daniele, who was sitting cross-legged on the floor, completely engrossed in an animated series on his iPad. His dark hair was a mess—tufts sticking out in the front, knots tangled in the back. Sybil had tried to brush it earlier, but Daniele refused to sit still, and I didn’t have the patience to force him. I figured I’d just buzz it all off after the wedding.“Daniele,” I said, my voice firm but calm, hoping to get his attention. “I need to talk to you.”He didn’t acknowledge me. His face was glued to the screen. I reached for the iPad, but he twisted away, glaring at me stubbornly.“Give it to me,” I ordered, my tone hardening.Daniele flinched slightly but held onto the de
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My heart clenched as Nicolas’s cold voice cut through the room, his disapproval like a blade. I stiffened under his gaze, fumbling for an explanation before my parents swooped in, their congratulations sparing me—temporarily.“They didn’t match the flower arrangement,” I blurted quickly, the words tumbling out under pressure. My voice felt thin, strained, but I hoped it would suffice.Sunflowers. The battle over those flowers had been relentless. Weeks of arguing with my mother, standing my ground until my father intervened and settled it in my favor. It felt like a small victory at the time—one of the few I could claim.Nicolas’s stare stayed locked on me, unyielding, unforgiving. “You shouldn’t have chosen sunflowers. Next time I send you something to wear, I expect you to do it.”The finality in his voice stunned me. He straightened, and the matter was done as far as he was concerned. His word wasn’t a suggestion—it was law. Any resistance was futile.I swallowed hard, blinking bac
Last Updated : 2025-01-14
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THE CARETAKER BRIDE CHAPTER 17
Faro shot me a wink as he bantered with a group of our Captains. I ignored it, keeping my focus on the double doors just as my mother and Isabella’s mother entered the room. Between them, they carried the sheet—a stark, unmistakable symbol of the night before. Without a word, they moved to the side of the room, draping it over two chairs like an offering to tradition.Beside me, Isabella let out a soft, choked gasp. Her cheeks flushed a deep crimson, the color creeping down her neck. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of the tablecloth. “This… this is beyond humiliating,” she whispered, her voice trembling with embarrassment.I glanced at her, noting the way her gaze darted nervously around the room, desperate to avoid the knowing eyes of our audience. “It’s a symbol of your honor,” I said, my voice low and firm. “You shouldn’t feel ashamed.”Her lips pressed into a thin line, but a glint in her eyes betrayed her attempt to hide her emotions. “A
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When I stepped out of the bedroom, dressed in a crisp three-piece suit, I found Isabella curled up on the living room sofa, her attention fixed on her phone. A soft smile lit her face, one that stirred an unease within me I didn’t want to examine too closely.I moved toward her, my steps deliberate, the sound of my shoes on the hardwood announcing my approach. “Who are you talking to?” My tone came out sharper than I intended, but I didn’t correct it.Isabella’s head snapped up, her brows knitting together. “Excuse me?”“You heard me,” I pressed. “Who are you texting?”Confusion flitted across her face before it shifted to something closer to worry. She straightened, as if trying to make herself smaller. “Your sister, Mia,” she said softly.I extended my hand toward her phone, and she hesitated for only a second before handing it over. I scrolled through their exchange, my eyes narrowing as I read Mia’s most recent message.I apologize for my brother’s rudeness because I know he won’t
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I had never been the kind of man who craved closeness at night. Even with my late wife, Gaia, I often avoided sharing the bed altogether. Not that she would have wanted it otherwise. Her disdain for my presence had been a constant, her coldness an armor she wore even when we were in the same bed. If she ever sought me out, it was only because she wanted something in return.But Isabella was different. She had asked for closeness, something Gaia never did, and I had denied her.The early light of dawn crept into the room, softening its edges, illuminating Isabella’s face. Her cheeks were puffed, her lashes clumped together, evidence of the tears she had cried last night. Somehow, in sleep, she had drifted closer, her body just shy of mine. I resisted the ridiculous urge to brush her hair back or wipe away the dried tears from her face. It wasn’t about desire—it was something deeper, more primal, and I couldn’t name it.Propped on one elbow, I let my eyes linger on her. She looked so yo
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Nicolas swung his legs off the bed, his movements calm yet purposeful. “I’m going to clean up,” he muttered, his deep voice cutting through the quiet. My gaze followed him instinctively, drawn to the broad expanse of his back and the ripple of muscles as he stood. His body was undeniably magnetic—every inch of him sculpted, powerful, commanding attention. It was a relief to feel this attraction. At least something between us felt natural. But then my eyes drifted lower, and the sight of blood smeared on him sent a flush of heat to my cheeks. Mortified, I quickly looked away, realizing I had been staring for too long. As I turned my attention to myself, my stomach twisted at the mess on my thighs—a mix of blood and him. My skin burned with embarrassment as my eyes landed on the stained sheets beneath me. A small, involuntary sound of dismay escaped my lips before I could stop it. “Isabella,” his voice rumbled softly behind me, making me jump. “Are you all right?” I turned, hugging
THE CARETAKER BRIDE CHAPTER 13
The room was cloaked in stillness, the faint glow of moonlight filtering through the curtains and casting soft shadows across the bed. My throat was dry as I turned to her, struggling to find the right words for what needed to be said. It wasn’t exactly romantic, but it was necessary. “Do you take the pill?” I asked, my voice low and hesitant.Her eyes widened briefly, a hint of pink staining her cheeks, but she gave a quick nod. It was a small gesture, but it felt monumental. Relief coursed through me, though the awkwardness of the question lingered in the air. For a moment, I considered apologizing, but instead, I moved closer, feeling the heat radiating off her body as I positioned myself above her.Carefully, I guided myself toward her entrance, my body tense with both anticipation and restraint. As soon as I pressed forward, she flinched, shrinking back instinctively. I froze, frustration bubbling beneath the surface, but I forced it down. She wasn’t just some conquest—she was my
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Isabella exhaled softly, a flicker of hesitation dancing in her eyes. “You seem... really strong,” she murmured, her voice unsure but curious. Her hand lifted halfway, trembling slightly as though she wanted to touch my arm but wasn’t certain she should.I caught her wrist gently, pressing her hand to my bicep. “See for yourself,” I said, flexing under her touch.A quiet laugh escaped her lips, and despite myself, the corners of my mouth tugged upward. Her gaze flicked up to mine before darting nervously behind me. Without another word, I took her hand and led her toward the bed.“Lie down,” I instructed, keeping my voice low.She obeyed, sinking into the mattress with visible unease, her body stiff as if the act of reclining had sapped her courage. I kicked off my shoes and stretched out beside her, still clothed, though the proximity was charged. My hand found her hip, and I tugged her closer, leaning over her.Her face betrayed her nerves—a fleeting shadow of doubt and fear. I chos
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“You don’t have to be afraid, Isabella. We have all night,” I said softly, the words tasting foreign in my mouth, as though reassurance wasn’t something I’d practiced much.Isabella’s gaze flitted around the room, landing on the closed door that separated us from the bedroom. “Do you think waiting will make it easier?” she asked, her voice tremulous but steady enough to hold my attention.“I don’t know,” I admitted. “But if there’s something that would help, just tell me.”She tilted her head, studying me as though weighing my sincerity. “If it felt like I had a choice,” she finally whispered.The words stung, though they shouldn’t have. I took a deliberate step closer. “You do have a choice.”Her eyes met mine, wide and full of something I couldn’t name. “Do I? Truly?” Her voice was barely audible, but the doubt in her tone was deafening. “Would you really let me decide?”I wanted to say yes. I wanted to mean it. But the truth? There were expectations, ones I couldn’t completely igno
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Luca’s uncles—the very Underbosses who thrived on finding ways to irritate me—were the first to ignite the chaos.Isabella and I had been standing with my sisters and her parents, exchanging pleasantries, when the first holler split through the celebratory hum of music.It started with one, then spread like wildfire. Cheers erupted, applause followed, and soon enough, the room was filled with chants of, “Bed her! Bed her!” The words ricocheted off the walls, stirring my simmering irritation.Isabella’s father and brother, to their credit, remained quiet. Christian, however, pierced me with a glare that nearly crossed the line of insolence. At another time, I would have ensured he understood the cost of such a challenge. But not tonight. I allowed it, partly because I respected his audacity, and partly because I had bigger issues at hand.Beside me, Isabella’s knuckles whitened around her wine glass. She threw an awkward smile toward my sister Mia, whose comforting arm found its way ar
THE CARETAKER BRIDE CHAPTER 9: Nicolas pov
All evening, I couldn’t take my eyes off her. Isabella. She looked like she wanted to be anywhere but near me. Her trembling hands during our dance had been enough of a clue. Her discomfort with my proximity was as clear as day, and it didn’t sit right with me. This night was supposed to be one of celebration, but her unease made it feel like a minefield.After she finished her dance with my father, I watched her rush out of the room, looking like she was desperate to escape. That’s when my father approached me.“Would you excuse us for a moment, Luca? I need to have a word with my son,” he said.Luca—my old friend and trusted ally—nodded curtly, his wife already pulling him into another dance.“What’s the matter?” I asked, already feeling tension rising in my chest.“Your girl is terrified. She’s trying to put up a brave front, as she’s been taught, but I can see it in her eyes,” he said, his voice low and concerned.I didn’t like hearing him talk about her that way. “Don’t call her
