Married At Gunpoint: The Mafia Boss Chose Me

Riley Collins's POV:

The rest of the day slipped by with me lying on the bed, eyes fixed on the ceiling, searching for answers that never came. My mind chased itself in frantic loops—Emma's fate, Luca's power, and my own helplessness in this twisted house.

Simply asking for what I wanted wouldn't get me anywhere. Screaming would be useless, maybe even dangerous. Luca only paid attention when challenged, when something or someone broke through his armor.

If I needed anything from him, I'd have to beat him at his own game.

The thought of seducing Luca Black made my heart hammer in my chest. Trying to charm a man like him felt about as safe as putting my hand in a lion's mouth. Still, it was the only card I had left to play. If I could hold his interest, maybe I could finally fight for what truly mattered: getting to Emma.

As the sky faded to gray, someone knocked softly on my door. A woman entered, pushing a clothing rack lined with care, as though she carried priceless treasures.

"The boss asked me to deliver these for you, ma'am. Each outfit is labeled for a specific day." She spoke quietly, eyes averted, her tone as distant as the rest of the house.

So this was it—Luca's idea of control. Handpicking every dress, deciding how I would look, as if I were some living doll.

I stepped closer, running my hand along the designer fabrics, the pristine tailoring. Every dress was beautiful, elegant, impossibly expensive—and each one screamed restriction. No plunging necklines. No daring slits. Nothing but decorum and distance.

"Perfect. He wants a showpiece, not a partner," I muttered to myself, a cold smile tugging at my lips.

As I slid open the dresser drawer, my fingers paused. Nestled among the carefully folded fabrics was a scrap of black lace—tiny, barely there, unmistakably lingerie.

"What is this supposed to be?" I muttered, holding it up gingerly between two fingers.

I turned the fabric over, baffled by its shape, trying to figure out which end was which. That's when I heard the door creak behind me.

"Already planning your seduction, are you?" His voice, smooth and edged with sarcasm, sliced through the room.

I went rigid. Every muscle in my body clenched, the lace still dangling from my hand.

"I expected you to be cleverer than this. Pulling stunts like that won't work on me. I despise women who use tricks like that."

My mind scrambled for a response. I tossed the lingerie onto the bed with an exaggerated sigh and turned to face him, forcing nonchalance into my voice.

"Is that so, boss?" I retorted. "Because if your rules are anything to go by, there's nothing in this world you actually like. As for this— clearly not mine. Someone must've left it behind. I find it cheap, anyway."

He advanced, every step measured and quietly menacing. His stare was frigid, his jaw set like stone.

"That belonged to someone from my past," he replied flatly.

"Send her my best, then," I responded dryly, turning away and tossing the lace into the drawer as if I were throwing out a scrap of trash. "Anyone who'd wear something like that deserves a medal."

"What exactly are you after, Riley?"

I spun around slowly to face him.

"All I want is to see my sister. That's it. At least for now."

He watched me for a long moment, the air between us thick enough to cut. My own breath sounded too quick, betraying my nerves.

"I know I have nothing left that you haven't already claimed with this ridiculous marriage," I continued, forcing my pride down. "But if there's any decency left in you at all, let me visit her. Just one time. That's all I'm asking."

He stepped back, his expression unreadable.

"I don't have time for your pleas. My days are packed with meetings, contracts, sometimes dodging bullets or putting others in the ground," he said with a careless shrug. "But then again, maybe if you beg, I'll think about it."

Rage threatened to spill over, but the thought of Emma—hooked up to those machines—kept me in check.

"I'll do whatever you want."

His eyes gleamed with something like triumph, hungry to see just how much I would endure.

"Anything, huh? Perfect. I want you to sort, clean, and catalog the entire house archive. Five rooms filled with decades' worth of files and junk. Nobody's touched it since my father was alive. I expect it done by tomorrow night."

The air left my lungs. I took a step back, disbelief written all over my face.

"That's not even possible!"

"I thought you said 'anything.' Well, here's your chance." He gave a cold half-smile, already turning away. "Impress me."

I drew in a long, shaky breath, forcing myself to steady my nerves.

"Fine. But you'd better keep your promise."

He stopped and returned, closing the distance between us. His hand found my chin, tilting my face up, and I burned with resentment at his touch.

"Let's get this clear, sweetheart. In this house, I call the shots. I decide whether you get up or stay down, whether you open your legs or keep them closed. But you're lucky—I don't break my word. Finish what I asked, and you'll get your favor. Just one. Don't forget it."

He leaned in, aiming for a kiss, but I turned away before his lips could find mine. That flicker of rejection was all it took to sour his mood.

Without a word, he spun on his heel and strode out, leaving a chill in his wake. I had no idea what it would cost me, but I knew there'd be a price.

---

Hours later, I was buried in dust and paperwork in the heart of the library, sleeves rolled up and hair pulled back. Chalk and marker stained my hands as I sorted crumbling files, made notes on an old chalkboard, and stacked documents by color, date, and urgency.

The job unearthed a mess—contracts that didn't add up, records that repeated, even a signature that didn't look like his father's at all.

I forced myself to focus, trying not to think about Luca. If I finished before morning, maybe I'd have a chance to see Emma sooner.

Just then, steady footsteps echoed behind me. I turned, and there was Luca, framed in the doorway.

"I've cracked a filing system even your guards didn't know about," I said, not bothering to hide the pride in my voice. "There are odd papers in here. For instance, I just uncovered a contract with your father's name forged on it."

He stayed silent for a moment.

"You've read through all of it?"

"Not yet. But I've figured out exactly where people hide things they don't want found. Bring me a laptop— I'll scan and digitize everything. As for your assignment... consider it finished."

He ran a hand along his jaw, studying me with a mix of suspicion and something almost like reluctant admiration.

"Go. You can see your sister. Seven in the morning. There'll be a car waiting. I've got no patience for more of this."

I dropped what I was doing and faced him fully.

"Thank you..."

"Don't thank me. I still don't trust you."

"You don't have to. Just make sure Emma stays alive."

His eyes lingered on me for a second longer, then he turned away and strode out of the library.

I stood there, drenched in sweat and dust, muscles aching. But for the first time since being trapped in this house, a smile broke through— small, secret, meant only for myself. I'd actually won something, however small.

The victory vanished when I returned to my room.

Luca was already there, his back to me as he loosened his tie and stepped out of his shoes with infuriating ease, as if this was just another ordinary night.

Dread pooled in my stomach. What is he planning now?