The Marriage Debt (Dark Mafia Romance) (Debts & Vengeance Book 1)

Friday

“I didn’t know exactly what kind of fabrics you meant, sir, but I tried my best and bought what they had available at the market,” Lita says. She puts down a bunch of bags on the table and shows them to me. “You said not to spare.”

“Thank you, Lita,” I reply, inspecting the fabrics.

“Are you sure I shouldn’t have just bought a few dresses instead?”

I throw her a stern look.

“Sorry, sir. I don’t mean to question you,” she adds.

“Jill will be happy with this,” I say. “Bring it to her.”

Lita nods and takes the bags off the table while I sit back and watch the door Jill is trapped behind with a smile on my face.

I need to make her happy? Fine, I’ll make her fucking happy.

Jill

When there’s a knock on my door, my eyes light up. “Come in.” I don’t even wait to say it. That’s how starved I am of connection.

But when I see Lita’s face, my smile dissipates.

“Sorry to sour your mood,” she says, laughing.

“No, no, you’re amazing. I’m glad you’re here,” I say, getting off the bed. “I was just expecting—”

“Someone else,” she fills in for me with a wink. “I get it.”

A blush creeps onto my face. “No, no, not like that.”

“Of course, honey,” she muses. “I don’t judge.”

Oh, God. Why does that make me blush even more?

Stop it, just stop, Jill.

Lita puts some bags on the table in the room.

“What is it?” I ask, curiously stepping closer.

“Go ahead. Take a look,” she says, proudly standing to the side with her hands against her side.

When I open the bags, my jaw drops and my heart skips a beat. The most beautiful fabrics are inside, and I can’t stop myself from taking them out and touching them. “Oh my God, these are beautiful! Where did you get these?”

“It took me a while to find the right shop. But I’m good with finding pretty much anything he asks for.”

“He …?” I mutter. “Luca asked for this?”

She nods and walks out of the room, only to come back with a sewing machine. “I picked this up too from the market.”

“Wow.” I watch her put it on the table, and I can’t stop myself from touching that too. It’s vintage but workable. And it even came with all the supplies I’d need to …

“But why?” I ask, turning my head.

“He wants you to make your own dress.”

My own dress?

My face lights up at the thought.

I used to love making clothes. It’s all I ever did when I was young and even when I worked for Easton.

She places a hand on my shoulder. “He wants it ready by tomorrow.”

A-ha. So it’s a challenge.

“Are we going somewhere special?” I ask.

Lita shrugs. “I don’t know. Ask him. I’m just the girl who cleans and runs errands for him.” She laughs. “Anyway, if you need anything else, just tell him, and he’ll send me to get it.”

I sit down behind the sewing machine, feeling a little overwhelmed at all of this.

“Lita,” I say as she opens the door. “Thanks. You don’t know how much this means to me.”

She smiles. “I’m glad you like it, but … thank him. It was his idea.”

She exits the room, leaving me to do my thing.

But all I can do is stare at the beautiful fabrics in front of me and all the ways I can make the perfect dress. I don’t care that it’s probably because Luca wants to show me off. Because doing this beats watching television by a million miles.

My face turns red at the thought that he did this all for me. I’m glad no one is here to see it.

It feels like a challenge.

“Well, challenge fucking accepted, husband.”

Luca

Saturday

I take a sip of my drink, but as I swallow, the door handle to my bedroom clicks.

I unlocked her room with a purpose in mind.

For a moment, nothing happens as though Jill is waiting for me to get her. But I want her to make the decision herself. I want her to choose to come to me … to choose to bow down and obey in order to gain more freedom.

Because if I can’t get her heart, at least I’ll get her fucking submission.

The second she peers out, I forget all about our fight. I even forget we’re supposed to be enemies and that I’m supposed to destroy both her family and her resolve.

In fact, my jaw, along with the empty glass in my hand, drops at the sight of her stepping out of the room in a flowy, pink gown with silver embellishments going from her waist up to her shoulders, flaring out like a fire blazing out from her heart.

Exactly the kind of dress she’d create and wear to a simple dinner party with her own damn family.

But all I can say when she steps forward, twiddling with her fingers like she’s not sure she should’ve ever stepped out of that room, is, “Beautiful.”

She freezes, her cheeks slowly filling with a red glow. The arteries in her neck, above the collar, pulse as she looks out the window, trying to catch her bearings.

But I see her.

I see her like no one else ever saw her.

I see the pretty girl creating her own dresses and the gorgeous, confident woman she’s grown up to be.

I see it all, and she can’t ever hide it or the rush she feels when I look at her.

Because I see that too.

I pick up the glass and quickly put it back on the table. As she walks off to the window to stare at the people outside like she’s trying to hide from me, I follow her. She flinches as I plant a hand on her waist, her body tensing.

“I mean it,” I say, looking at her through the reflection of the glass.

“Are you only saying that to make me feel good?” she asks.

I shake my head. “You were always so creative with your outfits.”

“I thought you hated them,” she retorts.

I snort. “I hated how it made people look at you.”

She sighs as she looks at herself in the window.

“Why did you give those fabrics to me?”

My hand slides down her waist to her thighs, the feel of her body turning me on already. “Can’t I give my wife a gift?”

She sighs out loud.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” I say, almost unable to keep my hands to myself.

“If I did that, you wouldn’t let me out of the house anymore,” she says through gritted teeth.

We stare at each other through the window, and a tear wells up in her eyes. I slide my hand across her cheek and brush it off.

Then I fish a key from my pocket and unlock the collar with it, pulling it away from her neck.

She gasps in shock as the collar drops to the floor, and her hand instinctively reaches for her throat to feel her bare skin.

“If you stopped hating me so much, it would be easier,” I say, and I lean in to press a kiss right below her ear while maintaining eye contact. “And if you behave … I may not have to put it back on again.”

Every kiss I plant makes her lips part a little farther as damp fog spreads on the glass. My hand slowly slides up her waist while the other snakes around her chin as I tilt her head to whisper into her ear, “We could be so fucking good, you and me together.” One hand clasps around her neck while the other grasps her breast until she whimpers. “With you as my queen, we could rule the fucking country. Maybe even the world.”

“Like you don’t hate me as much as I hate you,” she hisses. “I don’t want to rule this world. That’s what you want.”

When I squeeze her tit, a tiny moan escapes her mouth. “Tell me what you desire then. Tell me, and I might give it to you.”

Her teeth clatter as she struggles to keep the moans inside while I plant kisses below her ear, keeping eye contact at all times. “Freedom.”

The mere mention of that word turns my body frigid.

I pull away from her and clear my throat, running my fingers through my hair. “Fine. Let’s go.”

She spins on her heels. “What? Now? For real?”

I use two fingers to beckon her to follow me, and she does the second I open the front door. We walk out into the long hallway, and I go into the elevator, turning around to watch her chase after me on high heels in that picture-perfect dress that makes me want to ravage her.

When the doors close and we’re left alone with nothing but the numbers on the wall lighting on whenever we reach a floor, I can’t think of anything else but shoving her against the wall and fucking her right here, right now.

I turn my head to look at her while she’s desperately trying to look anywhere but at me. Her sweaty chest and blushed cheeks tell me enough.

She wants me as badly as I want her.

If only her conscience wasn’t in the way of the sweet relief she could feel from my touch. My kisses. My licks. My cock.

Fuck, just thinking about it makes me hard as a rock.

Her eyes slowly inch down my suit, and she holds her breath the second they reach the rim of my pants … and the obviously visible bulge.

Her tongue darts out, and she quickly looks away, but I saw. I definitely saw.

The elevator dings and settles on the ground floor, breaking the spell. The doors open, and she steps out with haste, breathing shallow breaths from the tight dress constricting her body. Or maybe it’s because it really was too hot in there with just the two of us.

A lopsided grin forms on my face as I walk her to the exit.

“So we’re really doing this?” she asks.

“Yes, we’re leaving,” I say as we go through the revolving doors.

When she steps out, she sucks in a breath of fresh air, and her skin instantly erupts into goose bumps from the cold. A full smile still spreads on her lips as she looks up at the dark night sky, marveling at the stars. “Beautiful.”

I never pegged her to be the stargazing type, but I’ll remember this.

I walk up to the limo where my driver is already holding open the door. “Let’s go.”

The smile immediately dissipates from her round, angelic face when she looks down again and sees the limo. “Oh …”

“What?” I muse, my tongue sliding along my canine teeth. “You didn’t think I’d actually let you go, did you?”

The look on her face sours, but even her disappointment can’t dampen my mood. She looks beyond gorgeous, and I can’t fucking wait to show her off to her family in this dress and with my fucking ring on her finger. Because I want them to know I fucking own her now … and it won’t be long before I’ll own them too.

“Come,” I say, holding out my hand. “You’ll see your family if you do.”

“And what if I don’t?” she says, shaking in her shoes. “What if I run? Would you stop me?”

I tilt my head, and a laugh escapes my mouth. “Do you think I’d let you?”

“I won’t want for anything else. Ever.”

My nostrils flare. “Get. In.”

She sucks in a breath and then marches to the car with her head held high, flipping her hair at me like she’s upset I told her the truth. But she already knew the answer before she even asked.

People like us … we don’t make mistakes.

We can’t afford to.

And if she decides to run … she knows what’ll happen.

To her.

To her family.

To everyone she ever cared about.

And that’s exactly the thing she wants me to know, the thing she’ll use against me. Because it proves that she is my captive, my unwilling bride, and that I’m merely using her as a toy to play with.

She’s not wrong.

But that doesn’t make it any less rage-inducing, especially when she has this smug look on her face. I made it difficult for myself by picking her.

Sighing, I get into the car after her and shut the door, then make sure it’s locked. I don’t want her escaping while we’re on the highway even though she knows how fucking dangerous that is. It’s just the kind of thing she’d do to make a point.

I shake my head and look out the window.

“You lied to me,” she says.

Not even one second of rest. How does she keep doing it?

I turn my head, and she continues, “You asked me what I wanted the most, and when I said freedom, you said ‘let’s go.’ You lied to me.”

“I didn’t lie.” My brow rises. “We’re going somewhere.”

She makes a face and leans in to slap me, but I grasp her wrist midway in the air.

“I thought I told you to play nice tonight. Or do you want us to turn back around?” I lean in. “Do you want me to lock you up in that room again? Or should I make you sleep hanging from the ceiling? Because I can, and I will.”

She gulps and shakes her head, so I release her wrist. She starts staring out the window like she’s trying to forget she’s even here. As though she’s imagining herself out there between the common people, doing some relaxed shopping and living a normal, happy life. The look on her face is a mixture between melancholy and jealousy, like she wants nothing more than to disappear.

I envy that.

I envy her ability to turn her back on everything because I can’t ever imagine anything other than this life.

In this world, we are the killers, the bad guys, the criminals.

And I’m the prince more than willing to inherit it all.

My fist clenches, but I release it when she looks at me, her eyes full of disdain.

I fucking hate it.

When did I suddenly decide to care? I don’t.

Fuck.

Stop.

I grunt to myself and look away again.

When the car finally stops at the restaurant, I blow out a sigh of relief. My driver unlocks the doors, and I quickly open mine, holding out my hand to her.

She reluctantly takes it, but only after throwing me another glare.

Of course, she’d never pass up a moment to show me just how much she despises me.

She steps out and hits one of her heels on the sidewalk, collapsing straight into me. I manage to catch her in my arms. “Careful there.”

“Don’t act like you care all of a sudden,” she hisses, and she shoves herself off me.

I quickly grasp her waist and pull her close. “I never said I didn’t.”

“Yet you still seem to want to punish me every second of the day,” she hisses.

I nod and wink. “An appropriate punishment for murdering someone, don’t you think?”

“Murder?” She frowns, jerking herself free from my grip. “I didn’t murder anyone. It was an accident, and you know it.”

“But I don’t, do I?” My eyes narrow. “I wasn’t there, remember?”

Her nostrils flare. “Exactly. But I was there. And I almost died that day too. But you seem to forget that, just like everyone else.”

“Shouldn’t have driven off in that car with him,” I quip.

“I never wanted anything bad to happen to Liam.” She points at my chest. “You shouldn’t have threatened him.”

“Our fight was nothing but brotherly rivalry over the company. My business, not yours,” I retort.

She only gets more and more in my face, and I don’t know if I hate it or love it. “You made it my business when you climbed into my window and told me I was supposed to marry him.”

“Yeah …” I scoff.

I remember it all too well.

The night I gave her that mind-blowing orgasm.

After I had my way with her, I told her why I’d come to her room in the first place.

That my parents had chosen my brother instead of me to be the next heir.

Her fucking dream come true.

“That was the biggest mistake of my life.” I step back a little to calm myself before I lose it. “Just like you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asks, but I’ve already turned around to walk toward the restaurant.

“Hello?” She starts chasing me across the pavement. “Answer me.”

I walk off toward the restaurant alone to collect my thoughts. “No.”

“Why not?” I like how she follows me out of her own damn free will just out of curiosity. “You can’t just drop something like that without an explanation.”

“I can, and I will.”

When she attempts to block my entry, I grab her wrist and drag her close. “You will never stop tormenting me, will you?”

“Me? Torment you?” She snorts. “Good one.”

“You haven’t stopped being snippy since we got here,” I say.

“And you haven’t stopped being a dick to me since we got married, but here we are.”

I lean in to look into her scared little eyes. She can pretend she’s big and bad all she wants, but when it comes to it, she still cowers in front of me like a little bunny in front of a wolf.

“Have you ever stopped to wonder why?”

Her eyes search mine, but when her lips part, nothing but a mere whimper leaves her mouth.

So I say, “Thought so.” And I push open the door behind her and pull her inside. “We’re done talking. We have a dinner to attend, and I can’t fucking wait to show you off to your own goddamn family.” When we’re inside, I swiftly spin her on her heels and corner her against a wall, just out of sight of her family. “You’ll behave like a fucking good girl.” I point a finger at her. “Or I will punish you after. Understand?”

Her lip curls up in defiance. “Woof.”

I tilt my head and smirk as I grab her chin and make her look at me. “Bunnies don’t bark, Jill.”

“Fine,” she spits. “But don’t expect me to pretend to be happy.”

I bite my lip. “I don’t need you to pretend. I’ve got that covered. Don’t worry.”

When I turn around, she asks, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

A devilish smirk spreads on my lips as I look at the table where my guests are already eagerly awaiting our arrival. “You’ll see.”