All Chapters of The Mafia's Kidnapped Bride: Chapter 1 - Chapter 9

Chapter one ArynI pushed open the door to Brandon’s apartment, the sound of my pumps clicking softly against the polished marble floor. I thought about the look of surprise on his face when he saw my gift, and I smiled. Tonight, I was finally going to let him make love to me. I blushed at the idea. O was well prepared too. I thought hard about what I could get him since he had everything. Then I remembered him complaining about a keychain his mother had bought for him being broken. It was customized and hard to get, but I worked a number of part-time jobs and finally got it for him. "Brandon! I'm home," I called, expecting him to come out of his room. Maybe he was sleeping. As I moved closer, I heard a woman’s laughter. And it sounded familiar. I have heard stories like this. So I walked faster hoping that it wasn't what I was thinking. I froze in the doorway of his bedroom. Moans echoed out and they hadn't even had the decency to close the doors. Brandon was thrusting into her w

Chapter threeArynThe room was spinning, its bright lights shone in my eyes as I gripped the lace tightly, standing naked under the lace. The auctioneer’s voice was loud over the speakers, smooth and practiced, as if he had been doing this for years with no guilt of selling a fellow human being. “Gentlemen, feast your eyes. A fiery one, this. Hair as bright as a flame and spirit to match. She’ll fight, but isn’t that part of the fun?” I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms as I tried to suppress the wave of panic threatening to drown me. The thin green dress they’d forced me into barely covered my body, leaving me exposed to the cold air and the predatory eyes of the men seated in the shadows. “Let’s start the bidding at five hundred thousand dollars,” the auctioneer announced. Murmurs rippled through the crowd, followed by sharp voices calling out numbers. My chest tightened with each bid. I wanted to scream, to run, but my legs felt like they were made of lead.

Chapter Five*Aryn* I woke to find myself sprawled out on the bed, the silk robe tangled around my legs, leaving far too much skin exposed. The cool air brushed against my bare thighs, and I bolted upright, panic tightening in my chest. What the.....The events of the night before crashed over me like a tidal wave, and I shivered despite the warmth of the room. I quickly pulled the robe tighter around me, my heart pounding as the door swung open without warning. He stepped in. The man who had turned my life upside down in the span of a single night. Tall, devastatingly handsome, and exuding an authority that made the air in the room feel heavier. His golden eyes locked onto me, glinting with something I didn't want to understand. “If I wanted to have my way with you,” he said, his voice as smooth as silk and twice as deadly, “I would have. You were sprawled out like a fucking offering.” Heat rushed to my face, and I scrambled to cover myself more thoroughly, trying to move

ArynI crouched down just below the edge of the doorway, my back pressed against the wall as I leaned closer, straining to hear. Their voices were low, but Brandon had always been the type to talk too loud when he thought he was saying something clever.“…fit enough for you?” Brandon’s voice oozed with arrogance. “You sure all the debts are cleared? I mean, I know my girlfriend wasn’t worth much, but she should do fine in bed.”I stopped breathing.My blood turned to ice.What?He chuckled, that same smug sound I used to think was charming. “She’s untouched too. No other man’s had her yet. That’s what makes her valuable, isn’t it? Fucking pure.” My stomach twisted.He was talking about me. I wanted to run in there and scream. I wanted to claw his face off. But I stayed frozen.He kept going, his tone turning even cruder. “She always acted like she was above it, like she was too good to fuck. But you know what they say—those are the ones who end up the freakiest in bed.”I felt l

Aryn If there was one thing that mocked me more than my reflection in the damn mirror, it was the wedding dress hanging like a ghost in the corner of the room. The same dress that a maid had practically shoved into my hands earlier, chirping something about a fitting appointment. Ivory. Silk. Lace that probably cost more than I’d made in my entire life. I wanted to burn it. Burn the whole damn thing. Set the lace on fire and watch it melt into nothing but ash and smoke. But that would’ve been reckless. That would’ve been bold. That would’ve been me—the real me. And right now, Aryn the rebellious, sharp-mouthed, street-smart girl had to play dead. Or at least play meek. So, no. I didn’t burn it. Instead, I stood in front of it like it was a tombstone, my arms crossed, thinking about how I’d gotten to this point. How the fuck had I ended up being his fiancée? Lorenzo De Luca. Mafia heir. Control freak. Ice king in a tailored suit. For the past two days, I’d been scrubbing his