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BLOOD AND VOWS: THE MAFIA WRONG BRIDE Novel Cover

BLOOD AND VOWS: THE MAFIA WRONG BRIDE

When her sister flees on her wedding day to escape their father's massive debt, one young woman is forced to take her place at the altar. Her new husband is Lucien Moretti, Milan's most ruthless mafia don. Now bound to a terrifying billionaire in a marriage built on deception, she must navigate his growing, dangerous obsession. As his touch blurs the lines between fear and passion, she desperately tries to escape, knowing that if Lucien ever discovers her true identity, it will mean her death.
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Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?

"You're not Valentina."

At first, my mind refused to register what he just said.

It didn't feel like a sentence meant for me. It just hung in the air between us while my heartbeat turned erratic inside my chest.

Lucien stood watching me like he was waiting for reality to catch up with his conclusion. His expression hadn't changed, but something in the room had shifted. The air felt thinner.

I tried to laugh, but it came out forced and hollow. "That's impossible. I am Valentina."

Even as the words left my mouth, I didn't believe it myself.

Lucien's eyes didn't change; they stayed fixed on me with unsettling precision.

"I don't work with assumptions," he said quietly. "I work with facts and patterns. And you don't match any of hers."

My throat tightened until it hurt to swallow. "You're wrong."

He tilted his head slightly as if listening to something I couldn't hear.

"Valentina Rossi is loud even when she's silent. She reacts before she thinks and takes up space without trying." His gaze moved slowly across my face, deliberate and dissecting. "You don't."

The words pressed into me heavier than if he had raised his voice. My fingers curled into the fabric of my dress, knuckles going white.

"You're basing this on personality?" My voice cracked on the last word. "That's ridiculous. People change under pressure."

With a scoff, he turned away from me and walked towards the fireplace. I tried to breathe and get my thoughts under control.

He turned to me, his expression completely dead. “Who the fuck are you?”

Before I could respond, footsteps echoed from the hallway, and the door opened without a knock.

The same man from the courthouse stepped inside—the one who stood in for Lucien during the wedding ceremony. He was in casual clothing, but he still had the same detachment in his gaze. Though it flickered the moment he noticed the tension in the room.

He paused mid-step.

"Boss," he said carefully.

Lucien's gaze didn't leave mine. "Not now."

"There’s an update about the shipment coming in today.”

Lucien slowly turned his head, not fully, but enough for the man to feel the weight of his attention.

"You came here," Lucien said softly, "to tell me something I did not ask for."

The man stiffened, gnashing his jaw. "Boss. It's important."

There was a short silence before Lucien turned fully. And when he spoke again, his voice was dead flat.

"Leave."

The man hesitated. "Boss, I think—"

Lucien stepped forward just once, and that was all it took. He stopped speaking mid-breath, his jaw clamping shut like a door slamming.

"I will give you one chance to walk out of here," Lucien said, "before I decide you are no longer useful."

The man swallowed hard enough that I saw his throat bob, and my head turned back to Lucien with more refined horror.

Who the hell is this man!?

"I'll wait outside."

The door closed with a soft click, and the room felt sealed again.

Lucien stood still for a long moment, his back to me. Then he turned, and whatever space had existed between confusion and certainty was gone now. There was only determination left in his eyes.

I couldn't even last more than four days!!!!

"You're not Valentina," he said again.

My mouth went dry instantly. "I am," I defended a bit too quickly, noticing that he hadn't blinked in seconds.

Instinctively, I took another step back.

He came closer without rushing, and I found myself retreating until there was nowhere left to go.

"You answer too carefully," he said quietly. "Too careful for someone who should be comfortable in her own skin."

My body refused to move, but inside, everything was collapsing at once, like my thoughts were slipping out of reach of my own control.

I couldn't breathe.

"I know the eyes of someone waiting to be caught," he continued.

I stepped back without thinking. My spine hit the wall with a dull thud, and my body betrayed me by freezing there. I was pinned between the cold stone and his advancing silhouette.

Lucien stopped directly in front of me. Close enough for me to feel the heat radiating off him without him touching me.

Again, my gaze dropped to his lips.

"Tell me who sent you," he said.

My heart dropped so violently I felt it in my stomach. "No one," I whispered.

He peered into my eyes for seconds, somehow driving the fear back, replacing it with something else. A confusing pull in my chest that made me hate how aware I was of him standing that close.

Before I could blink, his hand moved inside his jacket.

My entire body reacted before my mind could catch up. My muscles locked, lungs seized, and a cold rush of adrenaline flooded my veins.

He pulled out the gun casually, and everything went still.

My breath disappeared completely. I didn't just hold it; it left me.

Lucien lifted the gun without hesitation in his movement. There was just the quiet, terrifying alignment of the barrel and target.

He stepped back from me, turning around and walking casually a few feet away from me like he was trying to keep himself away from killing me immediately.

Then he spun swiftly, the barrel pointed directly at my forehead.

And suddenly there was nothing else in the world except that black circle of certainty and the man holding it.

"Last chance," he said softly.

My lips parted but nothing came out. My body locked in place, but inside it felt like everything was breaking apart at once, thoughts slipping out of reach, like I couldn’t hold onto myself anymore.

Lucien's gaze stayed on mine, his finger tightening on the trigger.

The moment stretched strangely, and I felt my mind separate from my body as the gun rose and everything else stopped mattering except the fact that I was about to die.

The moment before the shot became the only thing in the world that existed.

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