All Chapters of The Mafia's Kingpin's Arranged Bride: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

Sierra's POV I barely had time to shake off the cold before my father’s voice cut through the stillness like a knife. He and Mom were perched on the couch, watching me with expressions so serious I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. This wasn’t the usual quick hello after work; this was something weightier, something that seemed to be lodged between us, stretching the silence to its limit. “Hey, Dad. Mom…” I managed, forcing a smile. But they didn’t return it, and that pit in my stomach grew tenfold. “Come sit, Sierra.” My father gestured to the spot on the couch between them. Not a question, an order. He might as well have set up an interrogation lamp. Confused, I dropped my bag and slid into the space he indicated, feeling the weight of their scrutiny like a boulder pressing down on me. Dad cleared his throat, his eyes fixed on mine with a sternness that had only one thing in mind: control. “Sierra, you need to know that what I’m about to say is for the best,” he

Jordan's POV"Tell everyone I’m coming." I instructed my assistant, who had called to inform me about the Chinese investors waiting for me. As I stepped out of the mansion, I noticed Sierra at the car, adjusting her dress while struggling to open the front passenger door."What are you doing?" I demanded, seeing her wrestle with the handle. She had never been this serious as she is now.She looked up, defiant. "I'm going with you to work."I raised an eyebrow, exasperated, and shut my door, walking over to her. "This must be some kind of joke. Go inside." I ordered, my voice sharp.She crossed her arms, lips pressed together in that stubborn look she’d mastered. “You’re not leaving me alone in that empty house, Jordan.”Her insistence sparked something between annoyance and reluctant admiration. “The meeting I’m going to is not some corporate affair, Sierra. We’re headed underground,” I warned, my voice dropping low. But she didn’t flinch or back down. I had never seen someone as stub

Sierra’s POV I was stunned when Jordan told me we’d be going shopping together the next day. It was a side of him I’d rarely seen—a softness hidden beneath that hard, protective exterior. Part of me felt like I was being given a glimpse of something precious, something he didn’t share easily. As we strolled through the mall, Jordan kept his hand wrapped protectively around my waist. I could feel the eyes of strangers on us—mostly men whose gazes lingered a bit too long. But with him beside me, I didn’t flinch. In his presence, I felt shielded, cherished. We stopped at a boutique, and my attention was instantly drawn to a stunning gown displayed near the window. I took one look at the price tag and shook my head, knowing I wouldn’t dare spend on something so extravagant. But before I could pull myself away, one of the store clerks carefully folded the gown into a box, and to my surprise, Jordan accepted it and handed it to me. “Thank you,” I whispered excitedly. I threw my arms

Sierra’s POV The moment I hit redial again, my fingers trembled as I pressed the phone to my ear. Once. Twice. Voicemail. Again. And again. “Come on, Jordan,” I muttered, pacing the narrow space between the bar’s dimly lit booths. My pulse quickened with each failed attempt. The low hum of conversation and clinking glasses around me faded into the background, swallowed by the growing panic building in my chest. Across the table, my friends exchanged concerned glances. One of them mouthed, “Are you okay?” I waved them off with a quick nod, not ready to explain the whirlwind unraveling in my head. Jordan had to be fine. He was Jordan Pierce—unshakable, invincible. But the icy knot twisting in my stomach wasn’t convinced. I didn’t even realize I was outside until the sharp night air hit me, cutting through my thin jacket like a blade. My fingers fumbled over my phone as I dialed his assistant’s number. The line barely rang before a crisp, professional voice answered. “Mr. Pierce’s o

Jordan's POV When I first heard the rumor, I thought it was a sick joke. People will say anything these days, twisting the truth into knots just to see if it can hang someone. But this? This wasn’t just another headline or baseless accusation. They were saying Sierra was dead. Dead. The word felt like a slap, leaving a stinging numbness that spread through my entire body. My phone slipped out of my hand, clattering to the table. I stared at the screen, the text from some anonymous source still glowing like a beacon of doom: Sorry for your loss, man. Heard Sierra didn’t make it. No. This wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be. I grabbed the phone and hit call, my fingers shaking so badly I almost dropped it again. Her number went straight to voicemail, which wasn’t unusual. But today, the silence felt deafening. “Sierra,” I said when the beep came. My voice cracked. “It’s me. Call me back. Please.” I hung up and stood there for a second, trying to steady my breathing. The room felt to