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She Can't Be Tamed Novel Cover

She Can't Be Tamed

Following a violent betrayal that claimed her family, Elena enters a perilous pact with the cold mafia successor, Dante Moretti. Trapped in a marriage of convenience, she navigates a life of opulence and deadly secrets. Dante aims to crush her will, but Elena secretly plots her revenge. As their internal war escalates, an unexpected passion flares, risking the destruction of the criminal empire they are both fighting to dominate.
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Chapter 3

As the morning light crept into the room, Arla reached out, finding the bed empty. Opening her eyes, she saw Zora, one of the mistresses from the previous day, standing in her room with her arms folded, staring at her.

"What are you doing in my room?" Arla asked, irritated. "Didn't anyone teach you about privacy?"

Zora replied coldly, "You've consummated your marriage. Don't expect Liam to return to your room. He belongs to Vivian now." Zora left the room before Arla could respond.

Arla, annoyed and confused, sat up in bed, muttering to herself, "They're crazy. What do they mean he won't come to our room? Isn't this our bedroom?" She got up, showered, and went to the dining hall, only to find it deserted.

Arla asked a maid for breakfast, but the maid informed her that breakfast time had passed. Annoyed, Arla retorted, "Do you want to lose your job? I said bring me breakfast!" The maid refused to budge.

Just then, Vivian entered the dining hall, wearing an elegant pink gown, her dark hair flowing like a fairy's, adorned with silver accessories.

The maid bowed and addressed Vivian as "Miss Vivian" before explaining the situation. Vivian asked about the commotion, while Arla confronted her, "Who the hell are you?"

Vivian examined Arla from head to toe, taking in her appearance. "Breakfast ends at 9:30 AM every day," Vivian stated. "You'll have to wait for lunch." She then dismissed the maid.

Arla, growing increasingly irritated, scoffed and retorted, "You really have no manners, do you?"

As Vivian locked eyes with Arla, Alice and Zora joined the tense scene, their disapproving glares piercing through Arla. They admonished her for daring to speak to their esteemed lady in such a disrespectful manner. Arla's confusion turned to defiance as she questioned their allegiance to Vivian.

Arla boldly stepped towards Vivian, her gaze scrutinizing every detail of her appearance. With unwavering resolve, Arla declared, "This is my husband's house, and I couldn't care less about your position within it! When I demand my breakfast, I shall have it! And that is the end of the discussion!"

Vivian, seemingly amused, let out a chuckle and dangled a set of keys provocatively before Arla's eyes. "tell me, how do you intend to secure your breakfast now?" she asked, her voice laced with challenge as she crossed her arms. "When entering a new household, it would be wise to attempt assimilation rather than inciting discord. Otherwise, be prepared to face the repercussions of your actions. I advise you not to test my patience," Vivian warned, her eyes unwavering as they bore into Arla's.

Arla scoffed and turned to Vivian, saying, "I guess they didn't tell you about how crazy I can be, right?"

Unfazed by Arla's remark, Vivian replied, "I don't care if you're psychotic. In this house, I make the rules, and no one has ever dared to go against me."

Arla stared at Vivian defiantly and challenged her, "What will you do if I go against you, huh?"

Vivian's eyes narrowed as she met Arla's defiant gaze, her expression hardening as she considered the challenge. The tension in the room was palpable as the two women faced off, neither one willing to back down.

"You don't want to find out," Vivian finally replied, her voice low and dangerous.

Arla, however, refused to be intimidated. She had never been one to shy away from conflict, and she wasn't about to start now. "Try me," she dared, a smirk playing at the corners of her lips.

Vivian took a step closer, her eyes locked on Arla's. "If you think you can come into my house and disrupt the order I've established, you're sorely mistaken," she warned. "I've dealt with far worse than the likes of you, and I've always come out on top."

Arla folded her arms across her chest, feigning boredom. "All I hear is talk," she taunted. "If you're as tough as you claim, prove it."

Vivian's lips curled into a wicked smile as she considered her next move. "Very well," she said, her voice dripping with malice. "If you need proof, I'll gladly provide it." With that, she turned and walked away, Zora following close behind like a loyal subject.

Just then, a woman named Jane, one of Liam's many mistresses, emerged from the hallway. She approached Arla with a word of caution: "You should keep a low profile. She's not someone you want to cross."

Arla frowned, her gaze defiant. "I'd like to see what she's capable of," she retorted, her voice laced with challenge. Without another word, she stormed out of the dining hall, her anger robbing her of any appetite.

That night, as the moon rose high in the sky, Liam's absence from Arla's room was conspicuous. Instead, the sound of moans echoed through the hallway, growing louder with each passing moment. At first, Arla sat up in bed, straining her ears to make sure she wasn't mistaken.

But the sound persisted, prompting her to rise from her bed and approach the door. As she opened it, the moans grew louder still, guiding her toward their source. Frowning, Arla followed the noise until she found herself standing in front of Vivian's room.

Hesitantly, she turned the doorknob and stepped inside. The sight that greeted her was one she would never forget: Vivian and Liam, locked in a passionate embrace, their naked bodies entwined in the dimly lit room.

Arla froze, her heart pounding in her chest as she struggled to process the scene before her. Just then, Vivian looked up, feigning shock as if she hadn't intentionally been making loud moaning sounds mere moments ago, clearly intending to wake the entire household.

Liam's cold voice shattered the silence. "Get out," he commanded, his tone devoid of emotion.

Arla bit her lower lip, her whispered "son of a bitch" hanging in the air as she fled the room, the image of their betrayal seared into her mind. She ran back to her own room, locking the door behind her as she desperately tried to make sense of what she had just witnessed.

Her hands trembling, she ran them through her hair, her eyes darting left and right as if searching for answers. "What's happening?" she whispered, her voice barely audible. "What did I just witness?"

Her body shaking, Arla climbed into bed, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes.

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