It was all her fault. My life could have been simple—40-hour shifts at KFC, sneaking extra chicken crumbs, and binge-watching reality shows. But no. Instead, here I was, standing at the altar, saying I do to a man whose idea of “casual” involved drugs, women, and murder on speed dial. Thanks, Mom. Not only did she ruin my life, but she also sold it—traded me off to the deadliest Mafia boss alive, Mario Santiago, as if I were some secondhand couch on clearance. Mario Santiago. Yeah, that Mario Santiago. The Human Terminator. The guy whose enemies mysteriously vanish like my paycheck two days after payday. And now, I was his wife. He glanced at me with a slow, wolfish smile that practically screamed trouble. That was when I knew two things: 1. I was completely doomed. 2. This man was going to wreck my heart (and probably my life). But hey, it could be worse, right? At least I’d get a killer wardrobe out of it. *** Are you looking for romance and humor? Stuck with Mario Santiago is a hilarious, Mafia billionaire romance filled with danger, betrayal, drama, and a love story you won’t forget. Dive in—you won’t regret it (but the characters might).
View MoreSylvia POVAfter a 15-minute drive, we arrived at the station, and I was immediately led into a small, cold interrogation room.“Do you want to tell us about what happened?” the detective asked, his tone calm, but his eyes were sharp and studying me, watching every tiny movement.“No. I would like to have a lawyer present first,” I said, keeping my voice even.He stared harder, like he was trying to get under my skin, trying to make me crack. But I didn’t flinch.“We’re only asking questions, that’s all,” he pressed.“I still want my lawyer,” I replied, firm.He exhaled slowly. “Okay then, do you have a lawyer you want to call?”“No,” I said. “I’ll wait for a public defender to be assigned.”“You’re sure you don’t want to call your husband?” he asked again, leaning slightly forward like the question might hit differently this time.“No.”He nodded, tight-lipped. “Alright. Then we’ll have to check you in as an inmate until we can get someone assigned. It might take a day or two.”I shr
SYLVIA'S POV The next two days went by in a blur. I ordered takeout, rotted away on the couch, my phone switched off, my eyes glued to the TV news channel, drowning in the endless cycle of my own destruction.When I wasn’t watching TV, I was reading every article I could find about myself. The internet had no mercy. Insults, mockery, people tearing me apart piece by piece, all of it made worse by the fact that I knew they were right. I had become the joke of the week, the woman who had lost control in the most public way possible.By the third day, Isabel had come by. She knocked on the door for nearly an hour, her voice getting more frantic with each passing minute. But I stayed silent.“I know you’re in there, Sylvia. Just reply, at least let me know you’re okay. Pick up the phone!” But I stayed quiet. I couldn't face anyone, not even her.On day four, things took another turn. The 5 o’clock news was on when everything went downhill again. I was curled up in a blanket on the couch,
Sylvia POV I was locked in combat with the woman, my fingers tangled in her hair, pulling as hard as I could. She struggled beneath me, her hands pushing at my chest in a desperate attempt to throw me off. But I wasn’t going anywhere.“Got something to say?” I sneered, my breath quick and uneven. “Go on. Say it.”I landed a punch, harder than I intended, but the satisfaction that came from it was short-lived. That's when I heard it; laughter. I froze, my body stiffening. I slowly turned my head and saw her. Another woman, standing by the door with her phone, videoing, a smug grin plastered on her face. It hit me in an instant: this whole thing was a setup.I had fallen for it.The woman on the floor stopped fighting for a moment, her bloodied lips curling into a grin as she glanced at her partner. The realization sank in, this was a bait for some juicy story drama. They’d planned this. I had been played.I stood up, pulling the woman’s hair one last time and punching her in the stoma
SYLVIA'S POVI woke up feeling giddy. It was ridiculous, but I couldn’t help it.Stretching lazily, I reached for my phone and checked the time, and it was past 7 a.m. I had to get up. But my eyes flickered to my last conversation with Mario, and heat crept up my neck."Better not be late to work tomorrow. I might punish you."I bit my lip, shaking my head. He was dangerous. The kind of man who could mess with my head and body without even touching me.Forcing myself out of bed, I took a quick cold shower to clear my mind. My fingers hesitated on my skin, remembering last night and how I'd almost used the sex toys, but I pushed the thought away.I dried off and walked into my closet, already knowing what I was going to wear. Isabel had picked it out last night before leaving; a black satin blouse with a deep V that hinted at cleavage and a pencil skirt that hugged every curve. It was sleek, professional, but sexy, exactly what Isabel had intended."If you’re going to be the wife and P
SYLVIA'S POVBy the time we got home, it was already past 4 p.m. Shopping bags rustled in our hands as we walked in, exhaustion sinking into my bones. Isabel, of course, still had energy to spare. We tried on some of the outfits again, laughing at the ones that felt too extra and admiring the ones that made us look like we belonged on the cover of a magazine.It wasn’t until around 8 p.m. that she finally left, leaving me alone in the quiet house.The silence was heavier than I expected.I took my time in the shower, letting the warm water relax my muscles. When I stepped out, I grabbed a random pair of pajamas from the pile of new clothes but hesitated. My eyes drifted to the neatly arranged lingerie set, all still fresh with their tags.Before I could stop myself, I reached for the sheer lavender one.The material was soft on my skin as I slipped it on. Standing in front of the mirror, I ran my fingers along the edges, my breath catching slightly as I noticed how it barely concealed
SYLVIA'S POV "So that's a rose," Isabel started, waving the tiny pink box in front of my face. "It has instructions, and you can watch tutorials on YouTube." She winked like this was the most normal conversation in the world.I swallowed hard, my face heating up as she reached for two more boxes and held them up with a smirk."Black or white dildo?"My mouth went dry. I could not believe this was happening.I glanced from one to the other, my hands itching to snatch them away and throw them into the abyss where no one would ever see them again."I’ll go with the white one," I muttered, barely above a whisper. "Mario’s white."As soon as the words left my mouth, I mentally slapped myself. Did I really just say that?Isabel let out a sharp bark of laughter."Oh my God Sylvia! You did not just say that."I refused to meet her eyes as I grabbed the box and shoved it into my jacket like I was committing a crime."The staff will think you're stealing if you hold it like that," she nudged m
SYLVIA'S POV Isabel was practically vibrating with excitement as she pulled me into the shopping mall. The place screamed wealth, glass walls reflecting the golden glow of chandelier lights, marble floors clicking under the shoppers designer heels, and well-dressed staff standing at every corner, watching, waiting. I wasn’t used to places like this.A woman in a sleek black dress approached us with a practiced smile, though her eyes carried the exhaustion of someone who would rather be anywhere else."Welcome to Opulence Galleria. What would you like to shop for today?"Isabel barely spared her a glance. "Everything. And we don’t need your help."I bit my lip as Isabel grabbed my hand, dragging me deeper into the store. The worker muttered something under her breath before turning away, and I almost felt bad. Almost. But then we walked past a display of handbags that probably cost more than 6 months of my former rent, my guilt evaporated."Alright, first things first," Isabel announ
Mario's POVI sat in my office, the screen of my laptop lit up. Sylvia’s image flickered in front of me, moving through her new apartment, completely unaware that I was watching. I told myself I wouldn’t do this. I promised I would only check if it was necessary. But here I was, breaking my own rules.I should close it. I should stop. But I didn’t.She moved with ease, her body relaxed, her lips curved into a smile as she spoke to Isabel. They laughed, the sound lost to me, but I could see it in the way her shoulders shook. Then she grabbed Isabel’s hand and led her to the bedroom, the one room without a camera. My jaw clenched.The screen now showed nothing but the empty living room, but my mind filled in the blanks. What were they doing? Talking? Changing? My hands curled into fists on my desk. I shouldn’t care this much. I shouldn’t be thinking about this at all.Minutes passed, and then she reappeared. Laughing. Her cheeks flushed, her hair slightly messy. Something in my chest ti
SYLVIA'S POVThe smell of bacon was what pulled me from sleep, my nose twitching as the scent curled into my dreams and dragged me back to reality. I groaned, rolling onto my side, but before I could bury my face into the pillow, a quiet "Careful," reached my ears, followed by a warm hand tapping my arm gently.My eyes fluttered open, still heavy with sleep, and the first thing I saw was Mario’s face above mine, looking down at me with a smile that was way too bright for this early in the morning. I frowned, lifting a weak hand to push at his chest."Why are you so damn bubbly this morning?" My voice came out rough with sleep, and I squinted up at him, trying to look annoyed.He chuckled, yanking the blanket away from me in response. "Because I made you breakfast."I scowled, sitting up as I reached for the blanket, but he only grinned, dodging my grab."And," he continued, puffing out his chest slightly, "it's not burnt. Took a lot of practice. And, well… throwing a lot of ruined one
“What if I don’t want to do this? What if I don't want to sell my body like you—”The slap came faster than I could process, the sting spreading across my cheek as my head snapped to the side.“Don’t you dare question me,” my mother hissed, her voice venomous. “Do you think I wanted to do the things I did? Sleeping with men, lowering myself for you? I sacrificed everything to keep you fed and clothed. You owe me this, Sylvia.”Did every mother say that to their daughter?I held my burning cheek, staring at her in disbelief. Her face was twisted in anger, and the lies dripped from her mouth. She never sacrificed anything for me—not willingly. My father’s death had stripped away the thin veil of decency she once pretended to wear.I took a step back, swallowing the lump rising in my throat. “You didn’t do it for me,” I said quietly. My voice trembling despite my best effort to sound strong. “You did it for the money, for the heels and the dresses, for the nights you could pretend to be ...
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