A Slave To The Mafia King

A hard slap landed on Liliana's face, causing her to stumble and crash to the floor. The tray she had been holding slipped from her grasp, and the delicate crockery shattered into pieces upon contact with the cold, hard tiles.

"Ahhh!" Liliana cried out in sharp pain as her stepbrother's fiancée, Cara, yanked her up by her hair. "Bitch! You've damaged my dress. Didn't I tell you to iron it properly?" Cara screamed. With a shove, she sent Liliana sprawling back to the floor.

Desperately, Liliana's hands scrambled for support, but instead, they met the shards of the broken crockery which embedded themselves into her skin.

"Cara, why do you do all this drama in the morning?" Rowan muttered as he took a seat on the central couch of the living room.

Liliana looked at her stepbrother with tears in her ears. She had hoped that he would at least look at her wounded hands and show the tiny bit of care. But she was wrong.

"Don't look at me with those pathetic eyes. Go to your room and get changed. I have something important to tell you," Rowan told his stepsister while taking the file from his secretary.

Liliana managed her strength to stand up when Cara told her to clean the floor.

"Someone else will do it!" Rowan stated and gestured to Liliana to leave.

Liliana dragged her feet to her room while tears streamed down her cheeks. Today was her 22nd birthday, but her stepbrother didn't even remember it. Ever since her father and stepmother passed away in a terrible accident, her life became miserable.

Rowan became the sole heir of the family business, neglecting her completely. She always though her stepbrother always loved her. But she was wrong. She had become worse than a slave in her own house. Rowan and his girlfriend always tortured her, not caring she was a human too.

Closing the room of the door, she first removed the shards from her palm and then, bandaged her hand. She then quickly changed into another pair of clothes. Because if she wouldn't make a haste, Rowan would punish her.

Reaching the living room, she sat across from Rowan, who signed the papers in the file. She wondered if they were the inheritance papers of their late grandfather, which were supposed to be open when Liliana would turn 22.

Liliana finally hoped that she would be free of this torment as she would also get some of the inheritance. She had planned to start her life elsewhere in the country with that money.

But Rowan had others plans for her.

"Liliana, you need to get married today," Rowan pronounced.

"What?" Liliana couldn't believe her ears. Her brother must be joking to her. "No, I won't get married," she protested.

"Shut up! I didn't ask your opinion!" Rowan barked at her and she trembled in fear. He stood up and walked to his stepsister. Pulling her up by holding her arm firmly, he said, "I don't want a burden like you in my house. At least, do one good thing to pay tribute to our late parents. You killed them that night."

Tears streamed down Liliana's cheeks. For two years, Rowan had blamed her for their parents demise because she didn't die in that car accident. He always treated her as the jinx from that day onwards.

"Why don't you let me go?" Liliana finally requested him.

"No. You need to pay for what you've done to me," Rowan stated with a hateful gaze. He let go of her arm and asked her to follow him outside.

Liliana didn't budge from her place when a bodyguard and dragged her out of the house. She was shoved into the car's backseat and they left for the wedding hall.

Liliana attempted to run, but her hands and feet were tied upon Rowan's instructions. She was pushed into the backseat. Rowan put a seatbelt around her and said, "Sister, why don't you stay quiet? I don't want to use violence on you. Your face should look clean, at least, on the wedding day!"

The next second, he sat beside her and the car drove to its destination.

Liliana was taken to the dressing room, where the attendants helped her in dressing up. There was no way she could escape because Rowan had made tight security arrangements.

"Ma'am, your makeup will ruin if you cry again," said the make-up artist.

Liliana sniffled and wiped the tears using the handkerchief. The makeup artist did the final touchup and then helped Liliana stand up.

"You look beautiful, Miss Everhart," she said.

Liliana looked at herself in the mirror in disbelief. In just a few minutes, she would be married off to a man she had never met. Her stepbrother had forced her into this marriage with an unknown groom, and there was no escaping it.

With a heavy heart, Liliana made her way to the hall, her face concealed beneath a delicate veil. She gripped the bouquet tightly, her knuckles turning white, as her stepbrother seized her hand with a firm grip.

She walked down the aisle, her steps slow and reluctant. As she neared the altar, Liliana finally lifted her gaze, desperate to see the man she was about to marry.

From her vantage point, she could only see his back, his identity still shrouded in mystery.

Finally, the groom turned around, and Liliana's breath hitched in her throat. She came to an abrupt halt, causing Rowan, her stepbrother, to stop as well. Her eyes were wide, unblinking, as she took in the sight of her groom.

Standing before her was the most eligible bachelor in the country, Valerian D'Amato. His reputation preceded him, and she knew his face all too well. He was as handsome as a Greek god, his chiseled features and athletic build capable of drawing any woman to him. His ocean-blue eyes seemed to have the power to pull anyone into their depths, but there was an unsettling coldness in them.

Valerian D'Amato was not a man of romantic fantasies or fairy-tale endings. He was the most feared and ruthless mafia boss in the country.

His name meant terror. He was a man who lived and breathed hatred, whose hands were stained with blood, and who thought nothing of ending a life. Kindness and love were foreign concepts to him, banished from his world by his own cruelty and relentless pursuit of power.

As Liliana stood frozen, facing the man she was about to marry, a chill ran down her spine. She realized that her life was about to change in ways she could never have imagined. She was about to become the bride of Valerian D'Amato.

Valerian extended his hand while keeping his gaze fixed on Liliana's face. She didn't wish to marry him, but her stepbrother forcefully placed her hand into Valerian's, sealing her fate. The next second, she was pulled towards the altar, her grip on the bouquet faltering, but Valerian's steady hand prevented it from falling.

The priest began the ceremony, his voice solemn as he started with the vows, instructing them to look at each other. As he spoke, Valerian repeated after him with conviction, each word echoing through the silent hall.

"In the name of God, I, Valerian D'Amato, take you, Liliana Rossi, to be my wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until parted by death. This is my solemn vow."

The priest then turned to Liliana, instructing her to repeat the vow after him. Her heart pounded, and her vision blurred with tears. She didn't wish to take a vow with a man who didn't even understand the meaning of them. This wasn't the wedding she had imagined, filled with love and joy. Instead, it was a binding of fate against her will, orchestrated by her stepbrother's ruthless hand.

"Kittie, speak quickly. I don't like to wait," Valerian's husky deep voice landed in her ear as he leaned closer to her. She lifted her gaze and found his face was only an inch away from hers.

"I-In the name of God, I-I, Liliana Rossi, take you, Valerian D'Amato, to be my husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until parted by death. This is my solemn vow."

"Here are the rings. Please make it wear each other," the priest stated.

Liliana's heart palpitated against her chest. She hesitated, her hand trembling. Beads of cold sweat formed on the temple of her forehead.

'Why am I marrying him? I cannot. I should run away,' Liliana thought and looked around. The wedding hall was covered with guards, having guns in their hands. She couldn't even attempt to make any wrong move.

"Miss, the auspicious time is running. Please make a haste," the priest humbly said, bringing her out of those thoughts.

Liliana nodded and inserted the ring in his fourth finger. Before she could withdrew her left hand, Valerian held her hand and inserted the ring in her finger. His iron like grip felt like he wanted to break her wrist. Why could she already feel the hatred from him beneath that gaze?

"Congratulations! You are both are husband and wife now. The groom may kiss his bride," the priest announced, followed by the claps echoed in the entire wedding hall.

'Kiss? No. I don't him to kiss me,' Liliana thought in her mind. Her veil was removed in a second and in the other, he cradled her neck.

Valerian didn't imagine Liliana to be this beautiful. For a moment, her eyes trapped him in them.

'I hate her,' a voice echoed in his mind.

He pressed his mouth above hers and she forgot to breathe. In an instant, the entire oxygen was knocked out of her lungs. Her eyes flickered before they shut.

Valerian pulled away, his gaze boring at hers before leaning into her ear. His clean shaven face brushed against her soft cheek and a shiver ran down her spine.

"Welcome to my hell, Liliana Rossi. You aren't a wife to me, but a slave. I will make sure you die every little second," he whispered in her ear.

Her eyes widened, filled with confusion and fear, as Valerian's chilling words echoed in her mind. Before she could fully grasp their meaning, Valerian seized her arm and dragged her out of the wedding hall. He didn't care that her feet hurt in the high heels, or that she struggled to keep up with his long strides.

The bouquet slipped from her grasp, landing forgotten on the floor, and her veil drifted down the aisle, a symbol of the innocence and dreams she was forced to abandon.

Liliana cast a desperate glance at her stepbrother, but he remained indifferent, his expression cold and detached. Tears welled in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks as she was pulled through the door, finally making an exit from the hall.

Once outside, Valerian roughly shoved her into the backseat of a waiting car. She slumped against the seat like a rag doll, her strength and spirit seemingly drained. Valerian climbed in beside her with his dominating allure.

The car began to move, and the journey that followed was filled with an oppressive silence. Liliana's fear grew with each passing moment.

She stared out the window, tears streaming down her face, her mind racing with uncertainty and dread about what Valerian might do to her. The cityscape blurred past her tear-filled eyes.

'Why is this happening to me? I never wished ill upon anyone. All I wanted was some money from my stepbrother and a little peace. Why did he do this to me?' Liliana's thoughts spiraled in her mind, each question piercing her heart.

Her despair only deepened as the car slowed to a stop in front of a grand villa. The night had fully descended, casting an eerie shadow over the opulent structure.

Valerian stepped out of the car first. The grand entrance of the villa was illuminated, and standing there to greet him were the butler and the chief housemaid, Freya, with a line of servants beside them. They bowed respectfully to their master.

"Freya, send her to my room. I want no delays," Valerian ordered, his tone leaving no room for hesitation. Without waiting for a response, he walked inside the villa, followed closely by two men who seemed to be his personal guards.

Liliana found the door opened from her side and she stepped out.

"Please this way, Mrs. Liliana," said Freya and led her way inside.

Liliana was taken to a room, where she changed into a night dress. She had no idea what was happening and when she asked about it, no one even responded to her.

Freya, then, took Liliana upstairs and said, "This is your bedroom. Please go inside." She pushed open the door and gestured to Liliana to go in.

With her shaky legs, Liliana entered the bedroom and found out it was all dark. She continued to walk until her feet stop in the middle of the room.

"Undress and lie on the bed!" Valerian's intimidating tone reached her ears.

Liliana clutched her dress tightly and shook her head. "I-I can't," she whispered.

"What did you say?" Valerian's expressions darkened and he took a step close to her.

"Why? Aren't we married now?" asked Valerian.

"We are, but we don't love each other," Liliana said, meeting his deep blue orbs.

He gripped her face tightly, boring his penetrating gaze onto hers. Liliana winced in pain. Was Valerian going to give her the same treatment as her stepbrother did? Tears appeared in her eyes and she pleaded him to let her go.

"You won't ever receive love for me, Lily! What your family did to me, you will pay for it– through your body and soul!" Valerian spat at her with a blazing gaze.

In an instant, Valerian threw Liliana onto the bed with a force that tore the delicate fabric of her dress. "Ahh!" Liliana screamed, her voice filled with panic and pain as his hand gripped her thigh with bruising strength.

Tears welled in her eyes, spilling down her cheeks as she gazed up at him, her eyes wide with fear. She pressed her hands against his chest, desperately trying to keep him at bay, her mind racing with terror and disbelief.

"I didn't marry you to keep you as my wife," Valerian hissed, his voice cold and merciless. "You are my slave. Remember that! And a slave has to serve her master. Your brother sold you to me. This marriage was just a cover-up. If you don't wish to be punished, serve me and fulfill all my wishes. Do you understand?" His words were laced with venom, each syllable striking fear into her heart.

Valerian never imagined he would harm a woman like this. But the memory of his sister's tragic death haunted him, fueling his rage.

Three years ago, Victor Rossi had killed his sister, and Valerian had sworn vengeance. He longed to take Victor's life with his own hands, to see the man who had caused him so much pain suffer. Yet fate had robbed him of that satisfaction when Victor and his wife died in a car accident a year ago.

He should have felt relief at their deaths, but instead, he was consumed by a hollow emptiness. The man who had taken his sister from him was gone, but Valerian's thirst for revenge remained unquenched.

If he couldn't have Victor's blood, he would settle for making Victor's daughter, Liliana Rossi, suffer. He would ensure she experienced a living hell.

Liliana, meanwhile, was reeling from the revelation that her stepbrother had sold her. The betrayal cut deep, a fresh wound added to her mounting horror. How could Rowan do this to her? Had she never mattered to him?

"You are lying," she finally whispered, her voice trembling. "Why would my brother sell me? Rowan is bad, but he can't sell me."

Her refusal to believe Valerian's words was both a plea and a denial, a desperate attempt to cling to some semblance of hope.Valerian's eyes flashed with fury.

"Why are you asking me? Ask your bastard brother!" he muttered, his anger barely contained inside him this time.

"You married me just for a show," Liliana's voice cracked, her words trembling with the weight of her despair. Were her past miseries not enough that this new torment had to be added to the list? Her fate was terrible, and for a fleeting moment, she wished she had died alongside her parents.

"Yes. You will never be my wife, but always remain a slave to me," Valerian spat, his eyes cold and unfeeling.

The next instant, he crashed his lips against hers, the kiss filled with hatred and angst. His mind was consumed by a singular, burning desire for revenge.

Liliana could feel the abhorrence in his kiss. She struggled against him, trying to push him away, but his strength was overwhelming. The suffocating pressure of his body against hers intensified, and in a desperate act of defiance, she bit his bottom lip hard.

"Agh! Fuck, did you bite me?" Valerian cussed, his tone seething with anger as he pulled back and glared at her. His hand flew to his lip, feeling the sharp sting where she had bitten him.

What happened next shocked both of them-Liliana slapped him hard across the face, her eyes blazing with a rare spark of defiance.

Valerian's eyes widened in disbelief. He brought his tongue to the stinging side of his lip, tasting his blood. Before he could fully process the slap, Liliana made a desperate dash for freedom.

But Valerian was quicker, his hand grabbing a fistful of her hair and yanking her back. They both fell to their knees, the pain from her scalp eliciting a cry of agony from Liliana.

"Ahhh!" she cried out, her voice breaking with the intensity of her pain. "Let me go!" Why? Just why did people love to torture the weak? Especially men?

Her plea fell on deaf ears. In a swift, merciless motion, Valerian twirled her around and gripped her throat tightly.

"How dare you slap me?" he barked, his voice echoing with rage. The sight of her tears only fueled his fury.

Liliana's vision blurred, her head spinning as his grip on her throat tightened. Her heartbeat thundered in her chest, each pulse a frantic, desperate plea for air.

"Ple-please," she whispered.

The room around her seemed to fade into a haze, and the last thing she saw was Valerian's enraged face before everything went black.

Liliana's body went limp as she fainted, her head lolling forward and resting against Valerian's chest. His grip on her neck loosened, and he felt the softness of her face pressed against him.

Valerian's eyes widened with a sudden, painful clarity. He had done something terrible, something unforgivable.

His rage, fueled by the painful loss of his beloved sister, had driven him to hurt an innocent woman. The promise he had made to his sister years ago after fully occupying the Mafia Business echoed in his mind: 'I promise you, Pene, I won't ever hurt women.'

He ran his fingers through his tresses, his mind a whirlwind of guilt and regret. With his other hand, he gently laid Liliana down on the bed, careful not to cause her any more pain.

Her face was pale, and a tear streaked down her cheek. He wiped it away with the pad of his finger, the gesture surprisingly tender for a man so accustomed to cruelty.

Valerian pulled up the blanket, covering her fragile form before calling the doctor.