Marry Mafia King or My Fifth Fiancés Dies

My chest felt tight, as if something were tearing through it.

The fingers gripping my phone began to tremble. Owen's short message kept filling the screen, every letter turning into a blade stabbing me again and again.

[I'm sorry, Emery, my love. This will be my last message. I really am a coward. Forget about me. I'll be safer without you.]

Tears fell without me being able to hold them back.

I hurriedly typed a reply. “You're not even going to ask about me, Owen?”

My fingers moved so fast I hit the wrong letters several times. After making sure the message was right, I sent it immediately.

But it never turned into two check marks. My chest sank again.

“Owen ....” I whispered.

I pressed the call button right away. My hope was simple. I just wanted to hear Owen's voice one more time. I wanted to believe this was all just a misunderstanding we could fix together.

But the operator's voice in my ear shattered that last hope instead.

“The number you have dialed is not in service.”

I froze. Owen had changed his number?

The tears I'd been holding back finally fell harder. My fifth engagement had officially ended. Even more painful than the four before it. How cursed could I possibly be.

I let out a soft laugh in between sobs. It felt almost funny.

Before receiving that message, I'd still been making plans in my head. Once I confirmed Owen had landed safely in the United States, I would force Maximilian to divorce me.

He might have been able to force me into marriage. But I was sure that, sooner or later, I could force him to sign the divorce papers too.

I bit my lower lip. Though, honestly, I still had no idea how.

My gaze shifted toward the suite door. Still shut tight. No sign of Maximilian coming back yet.

I wiped my tears roughly. If I kept crying, I would only sink further into despair.

I was still holding my phone. There was one more option I hadn't tried. My hand quickly dialed the emergency number.

The line rang a few times before someone finally answered.

“Emergency service. How can we help you?”

I stood up immediately.

“Help!” My voice broke. “I've been kidnapped!”

Less than 15 minutes later, the sound of loud knocking came from the other side of the suite door.

I ran to it at once.

The door opened from outside. Several uniformed officers entered the room, moving with caution.

My chest instantly felt so much lighter. Finally. Finally, someone had come to save me.

One of the officers approached. “Are you the one who called?”

“Yes!” I nodded quickly. “I was forced to marry someone. I've also been locked in here!”

The officer took out a small notebook.

“Calm down, miss. Tell us everything from the beginning.”

I explained everything without leaving out a single detail.

Owen, the hostage video, Maximilian's threats, the forced marriage. All of it. But the longer I talked, the more the officer's expression changed. He looked doubtful.

“So …” the officer said slowly. “You're legally married?”

“Yes, but—”

“And you came to this hotel with your husband without being handcuffed?”

“That's because he threatened—”

“You also signed the marriage documents yourself?”

“Yes ... but I was forced to.” My voice trailed off.

The officer exchanged glances with his partner.

“I'm sorry, miss, but from what we can see, you're an adult woman who came to a church, signed marriage documents under your own name, and then left the place together with your husband.”

“That wasn't my choice!”

“Is there any evidence this threat actually happened? A recording, a witness, anyone who saw him coercing you?”

“There isn't. But I'm not lying.” I clenched my fists.

The officers exchanged glances again before turning back to me.

“We understand you're under a lot of stress. But without evidence or a witness, it's very difficult for us to conclude this is a case of kidnapping or coercion.”

One of the officers took a call over his radio. He nodded a few times before looking back at me.

“We've also confirmed something. Your ex-fiancé landed safely in the United States.”

I already knew that. And I should have felt relieved. But the reality was the opposite. Because with Owen safe, the threat from Maximilian I'd just reported now sounded like something that had never really happened at all.

In the officers' eyes, he hadn't kidnapped or killed anyone.

I hurried toward them again.

“Please …” My voice grew weak. “You have to believe me. He's mafia. He's the Mafia King!”

The officer standing closest to me laughed.

“Mafia King?” He glanced at his partner, chuckling. “You've been reading too many novels, haven't you?”

A few other officers smiled in amusement too.

My blood boiled instantly. I clenched my fists so tight my nails dug into my own palms. They thought I was making up a story.

Just as I was about to argue again, a large hand suddenly landed on my shoulder.

My body went rigid. I turned slowly. Maximilian was already standing beside me, seemingly out of nowhere.

“I'm sorry,” he said, sounding genuinely apologetic. “My wife caused a scene.”

I shot him a sharp look.

“You—”

Before I could finish my sentence, Maximilian suddenly pulled me by the waist. His lips brushed my cheek in front of all the officers.

I froze. My entire body turned to stone.

“She's just upset,” Maximilian continued casually. “I left her to work on the day of our wedding.”

One of the officers gave a small laugh. “Ah, just a newlywed misunderstanding, then.”

“More or less.” Maximilian even gave a faint smile.

I stared at him in disbelief. How skilled this man's tongue was at lying. And what made it even more hopeless, everyone believed him.

“Well then, we'll be on our way.””

The officers began to leave the suite.

“Wait!” I chased after them instinctively. “Please don't go! He's lying!”

I'd barely taken a few steps when my wrist was yanked back. His grip left me unable to move.

The suite door closed once more.

Maximilian tilted my chin up with his finger. I was forced to look straight into his dark eyes.

“I told you, don't do anything crazy, naughty little cat!” Maximilian scolded.

My heart pounded harder and harder. I swallowed hard. I had a feeling that if I stayed beside this man tonight, I wouldn't survive it.

Before I could say anything, Maximilian spoke again.

“We're going back to the United States now. It's not safe for you to stay here too long.”

Maximilian turned, apparently about to give an order to Lucas.

Instinctively, I grabbed the edge of his jacket.

“Not safe from who?” I asked, staring straight at him. “Why does a mafia king like you look ... afraid?”