All Chapters of Forced to Wed the Mafia Heir: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

A NIGHT OF TENSIONThe living room was bathed in a soft, amber glow from the antique lamps, casting long shadows that seemed to dance across the faces of the four individuals gathered there. Kylie perched on the edge of the plush sofa, her fingers absently tracing the intricate patterns on a throw pillow. Next to her, Ava lounged with the easy confidence of a cat, her eyes sharp and assessing as they flicked between the room's occupants.Rosy, all gangly limbs and boundless energy, hovered near an oversized armchair where Dante sat. The young man's posture was ramrod straight, his eyes constantly scanning the room with the practiced efficiency of a seasoned bodyguard."Whoa," Rosy breathed, her eyes wide as she took in Dante's imposing presence. She inched closer, drawn like a moth to a flame.Kylie watched her sister's approach with growing unease. "Rosy," she warned, but her voice was drowned out by the sound of Rosy's girlish giggle.In a move that seemed to defy the laws of physic

BRIDAL SHOWERThe living room of the Palazzo Reale's top suite sparkles in front of me, a pastel dream designed for a celebration I never asked for. Soft pink and ivory roses overflow from crystal vases, their lovely fragrance blending with the crisp scent of chilled champagne. Delicate ribbons hang from the ceiling, catching the warm light from carefully placed lamps. A table is weighed down with fancy pastries and shiny flutes of bubbly. It’s stunning, almost painfully so, and I can’t help but feel like an outsider in this feminine wonderland.I smooth the emerald silk of my cocktail dress, the fabric gliding over my skin. It feels cool and slick, a sharp contrast to the rising heat of anxiety inside me. My mother’s voice echoes in my mind: "It would be rude to Lysander’s family if they didn’t get to meet you before the wedding." As if this act of regularity could hide the truth of what’s really going on.My fingers glide over the curves of the dress, pausing at the bodice. Emerald

BEAUTIFUL CAGEI gazed through the tinted glass, the cityscape becoming a mere streak as we raced along the highway. A line of polished black vehicles led the way, a stark reminder that my autonomy had slipped away. This wasn’t just another day—it was the day. The day I would become Lysander Vincenzo’s wife, the man whose name was spoken in hushed tones but who now occupied the very core of my existence.I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, attempting to alleviate the pressure building in my chest. Yet, nothing seemed to ease the weight."Are you alright?" Ava's voice broke through my spiraling thoughts, laced with an unmistakable tension.I nodded, though I couldn’t tell if I was reassuring her or myself."Yeah, just... feeling a bit anxious."Ava shot me a look that clearly conveyed, the understatement of the year, but she remained silent. We both understood that there was no turning back now.As we arrived at the Vincenzo estate, I was struck by the sheer extravagance that enveloped

FAILED PLANI stood before the mirror, the wedding gown enveloping me like a second skin. It was a true work of art, the chapel train cascading behind me, and the platinum embroidery shimmering in the light. It should have felt like a fairy tale, yet it only felt like a cage.A knock on the door jolted me from my reverie. I straightened my posture, forcing a neutral expression as Mother, Sandra, and Rahila entered the room.“Wow, Rosy, you look absolutely breathtaking,” Sandra exclaimed, her voice filled with sincere admiration. “Your hair is like spun gold.”Sandra’s mint bridesmaid dress was lovely, and Rahila, in her maroon gown, appeared to be wilting in the summer heat. Mother ushered Rosy in, saying, “Come on, Rosy. Your cousins want to speak with Rosy.”“Ava?” Mother inquired, glancing at my sister.Ava, seated on the sofa, shot Mother a defiant look. “I’m not going anywhere. I won’t leave Rosy alone.”Mother sighed and closed the door behind her.Sandra cleared her throat, loo

ABDUCT Darkness. That's all I could feel at first—just pure, suffocating darkness. My body feels heavy and weighed down, and my limbs refuse to move. I’m stuck in this in-between, not quite awake but no longer fully unconscious. Slowly, I started to come to—first the pain in my head, a dull throbbing like someone hit me over and over. Then there’s the cold. I’m lying on something hard, something rough and unwelcoming. Concrete maybe? The air feels thick and stale. It smells like damp stone, and my throat feels dry. I try to move, but my body doesn’t respond right away. Everything feels distant, like I’m underwater. My arms, my legs—they're sluggish like I’m still fighting off whatever sedative they gave me. The memory of being drugged rushes back in small, panicked bursts. The drink. The room. The faces… Then darkness. I blink slowly, my eyes trying to adjust, but everything’s a blur. Shapes blend into shadows, and nothing makes sense. Where am I? I can’t see anything, just hazy ou