The mafia’s unwanted wife

The heavy, suffocating scent of roses filled the grand hall as Donna Kent stood at the altar, every nerve in her body taut as a bowstring. The weight of dozens of eyes bore down on her, scrutinizing every inch of her as though they could sense the revolt simmering beneath her composed exterior. The gown, a masterpiece of lace and satin, clung to her like a gilded cage, every inch of it a cruel reminder of the freedom she'd just lost.

The man standing beside her was a stranger in every sense of the word, though his reputation had preceded him. Conner Todd-ruthless mafia boss, billionaire CEO, and the devil incarnate. He exuded power, his presence commanding the room like a silent storm. His sharp jawline, darkened by the shadow of stubble, clenched tightly as the officiant began to speak, his deep-set green eyes betraying nothing of his thoughts.

Donna glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, her stomach knotting. He hadn't so much as looked at her since she'd entered the room, not even when she had stumbled slightly over the hem of her dress. The cold indifference radiating from him was a stark contrast to the heat simmering in her chest.

She hated him.

This wasn't just an arranged marriage-it was a transaction. A debt paid in full with her hand in marriage, her life exchanged for the sins of her late father. She didn't even get the luxury of anger directed at him. Her father's mistakes had done this, his greed and deceit placing her squarely in the jaws of a man who could destroy her with a snap of his fingers.

"Do you, Donna Kent, take this man-"

"I do," she said, cutting off the officiant before he could finish. Her voice was sharp, clipped, and unwavering. She wasn't going to play the part of the simpering bride, not for Conner, not for anyone.

Conner's head turned slightly, his eyes narrowing at her as if registering the defiance in her tone. But he said nothing, turning his attention back to the officiant as though she were little more than an inconvenience.

"And do you, Conner Todd-"

"I do." His voice was like a knife slicing through the tension in the room, smooth and cold, with just a hint of boredom.

The officiant barely managed to finish his sentence before Conner reached for her hand, his grip firm, almost bruising, as he slid the ring onto her finger. The metal was cold, heavy, and final.

"You may now kiss the bride," the officiant said, his voice a pale echo against the roaring in Donna's ears.

Conner turned to her, his gaze dropping to her lips, but there was no warmth there. No affection. His movements were mechanical, calculated. He leaned down, brushing his lips against hers for the briefest moment-a kiss that was more of a warning than a gesture of love.

It was over in an instant, but the burn of it lingered.

The applause was thunderous, echoing in the cavernous hall, but Donna barely heard it. Her heart was pounding, her mind racing. She wanted to scream, to run, to claw her way out of the trap that had just snapped shut around her. But instead, she forced a smile, her lips curving into a shape that felt foreign and wrong.

As they turned to face the crowd, Conner leaned in, his voice a low growl against her ear.

"Smile wider, sweetheart. You're Mrs. Todd now. Act like it."

Donna's jaw tightened, her teeth grinding together. She tilted her head slightly, her smile growing sharper, more feral. "I'd rather choke."

His lips twitched, the ghost of a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. "Careful, Donna. I might take you up on that."

The weight of his hand on her lower back was possessive as he guided her down the aisle, the applause and murmurs of the guests fading into the background. Every step felt like walking deeper into a prison, the gilded walls closing in around her.

When they reached the exit, the car waiting for them was sleek and black, a symbol of wealth and power. Conner opened the door for her, a mockery of chivalry, his expression unreadable.

"After you, Mrs. Todd," he said, his voice laced with dark amusement.

Donna didn't respond, sliding into the car with her chin held high. The leather seats were cold against her skin, the interior silent except for the low hum of the engine as Conner slid in beside her.

The car pulled away, the city blurring past the windows, but neither of them spoke. The silence was thick, oppressive, and Donna could feel his gaze on her, heavy and unyielding.

"You don't have to stare," she said finally, her voice cutting through the quiet like a blade.

Conner chuckled, low and dark. "I'm just admiring my investment."

Her head snapped toward him, her eyes blazing. "I'm not a commodity, Conner. And I'm not yours."

His smile was slow, predatory, as he leaned closer. "Oh, Donna. You became mine the moment you said 'I do.'"

She turned away from him, her hands clenched into fists in her lap. The weight of his words settled over her like a shroud, suffocating and inescapable.

When the car pulled up to his penthouse, Donna hesitated for the briefest moment before stepping out, the cold night air biting at her skin. The building was a fortress of glass and steel, its opulence glaringly obvious.

The elevator ride to the top floor was silent, the tension between them crackling like a live wire. When the doors opened, Donna stepped into the penthouse, her heels clicking against the marble floor.

The space was as cold and impersonal as the man who owned it, all sharp lines and muted colors. But it was the view that caught her attention-the sprawling city below, its lights twinkling like stars against the darkness.

"Welcome home," Conner said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Donna turned to him, her eyes narrowing. "This isn't my home. It never will be."

He stepped closer, his towering frame casting a shadow over her. "You'll learn to adapt, Donna. Or you'll suffer."

Her chin lifted, her defiance blazing in her eyes. "You don't scare me, Conner."

His smile was cold, his eyes glinting with something dangerous. "You should be scared, sweetheart. But don't worry-I'll enjoy teaching you."

She turned on her heel, walking toward the bedroom without another word. But as she closed the door behind her, her hands trembled, her breath coming in shallow gasps.

This was her life now.

And she would do whatever it took to survive it.