After My Fiancé Sent Me to the Mafia's Bed I Sent Him to Hell

On the cruise ship, my fiancé's beloved, Cathy Begum, botched an important performance, which angered the mafia group behind it.

The mafia's leader, Nate Adams, declared he would ruin Cathy's piano-playing hands.

My fiancé, Chris Dobson, seemed unconcerned, focusing on feeding me soup.

However, I fainted soon.

When I awoke, I found myself naked and bound to the bed in Nate's room.

Chris was tenderly holding Cathy's hands, his face filled with concern.

"Cathy makes her living with her hands. I can't just watch them get ruined. You just need to stay with Nate for one night, and once he's calmed down, I'll come get you."

I snorted with derision.

"What makes you think Nate will calm down? What if he gets even angrier?"

...

As I regained consciousness, I felt the cool touch of the silk sheets against my back.

My wrists and ankles were tied with soft cloth to the brass bedposts, forming a humiliating spread-eagle position.

The room was filled with the rich aroma of cigars and whiskey.

I opened my eyes to the sight of a luxurious crystal chandelier, its light so bright it stung my eyes.

Chris and the pitiful Cathy stood by the bedside.

He was tenderly running his thumb over Cathy's fingers, his eyes brimming with protective affection.

"Don't be afraid, I'm here," he reassured her.

Cathy sobbed, her eyes red, yet her gaze fell on me with venomous resentment.

"Chris, it's all my fault. If I hadn't played that wrong note, I wouldn't have angered Mr. Adams. Now I've dragged Juliet into this..."

She claimed to feel guilty, but not a hint of remorse showed on her face.

Chris turned his head, noticing I was awake, and showed no trace of guilt.

"Are you awake?" His tone was as calm as if nothing had happened.

"Juliet, I know you're feeling wronged. But Cathy's hands are precious. She's destined to become a world-class pianist. Mr. Adams has a bad temper. You should just bear with it. I'll make it up to you afterward."

I looked at his handsome yet repulsive face without uttering a word.

Just then, the suite door swung open.

A burly man in a black suit walked in.

A menacing scorpion tattoo stretched from his neck to behind his ear, and his eyes were fierce.

It was none other than the infamous mafia boss, Nate.

He was holding a glass of whiskey, and after glancing at me, he frowned deeply.

Cathy shrank back into Chris' arms in fear.

Chris immediately stepped forward, shielding Cathy and speaking to Nate with a deferential stance. "Mr. Adams, this is my fiancée, Juliet. She's clean and obedient. I hope you'll be satisfied and... Please spare Cathy."

He thought it was a fair trade. Sacrificing my dignity for Cathy's future.

How convenient.

Nate ignored him and walked straight to the bed.

His overwhelming presence made it hard for me to breathe.

The cigar smoke enveloped my face, triggering an urge to cough.

Nate looked down at me with an intense scrutiny, as if trying to confirm something.

Chris, noticing his silence and misinterpreting it as dissatisfaction, hastily added, "Mr. Adams, Juliet is still a virgin. She will definitely please you."

To prove that what he said was true, he even reached out his hand to try and pull off my thin silk nightgown.

Before his hand could even touch me, Nate grabbed his wrist.

"Get lost." Nate's voice was deep and hoarse, conveying an unmistakable command.

Chris was stunned.

Nate tossed Chris aside like he was throwing away trash. The force was so great that Chris stumbled and crashed into the wall.

Cathy let out a short, sharp scream.

The atmosphere in the room turned tense and strange.

Nate continued to stare at me.

More precisely, he was staring at the necklace I was wearing around my neck.

It was a small platinum pendant shaped like a raven holding an olive branch.

It was a gift my father gave me on my 18th birthday.

Nate crouched down, leaning in closely to examine the barely visible family crest on the pendant. His breathing grew heavy.

Chris climbed back to his feet, his face a mixture of confusion and panic. "Mr. Adams, what are you doing..."

"Shut up!" Nate suddenly turned around and roared at him.

The intense aura of violence emanating from him instantly turned Chris and Cathy's faces pale.

Nate turned back to me, his eyes shifting from confusion to fear.

He cautiously extended his hand, as if wanting to touch the pendant, but hesitated.

His fingers stopped very close to the pendant, trembling slightly.

Chris was completely confused.

He couldn't comprehend why this mafia boss, who could shake an entire cruise ship, would look at my necklace as if he'd seen a ghost.

In a moment of sheer folly, he made an even stupider decision and pointed at me once more. "Mr. Adams. Is there something wrong with that necklace? I'll take it off right away. She's just the daughter of an ordinary family. It must be a fake she bought from a small store. Don't be fooled by her."

He thought he was helping Nate, trying to distance himself from me.

Little did he know that, with those words, he had just sealed their fate for both himself and Cathy.

When Nate heard the word "fake", his body tensed up suddenly.

Slowly, he raised his head, and his gaze toward Chris was no longer filled with anger but with pity.

He looked at him as if he were a fool who was about to die but didn't even realize it.

"Fake?" he repeated, his voice eerily soft.

Then, he did something that Chris and Cathy would remember forever.

Nate stepped back two paces and, facing me on the bed, dropped to one knee.

He lowered his head, which had always been held so proudly before countless people, until his forehead almost touched the cold floor.

The room was enveloped in silence.

Chris' eyes were bulging in disbelief.

Cathy covered her mouth, trembling.

The indestructible symbol of power in their worldview was kneeling in the most humble posture in front of me, the person they despised.

"Miss Phillips," Nate's voice quivered uncontrollably.

"I... I didn't know it was you. Please forgive me."

I stared at Nate's broad back, remaining silent.

Since I awoke, I hadn't struggled or cried out.

Because I knew that fear and tears were the most useless things in this world.

Now, I needed an explanation.

Chris' mind seemed to have shut down entirely.

He pointed at me and then at Nate, his lips trembling, unable to utter a single word.

Cathy regained some composure, gripping Chris' arm with a piercing voice. "Who is she? Chris, who is she?"

Chris shook his head in confusion.

We had been together for three years and engaged for one.

He knew my parents were involved in "ordinary" international trade, with a well-off background.

But compared to the circles I belonged to, it was insignificant.

He also knew I had a quiet personality, not fond of drawing attention, fitting perfectly into his image of an ideal wife and mother.

Yet, he was unaware of what "international trade" truly entailed in my family.

What he didn't know was that Nate and the entire mafia organization behind him were nothing more than a dog trained by my family's business empire, used to carry out our dirty work.

The raven emblem on my neck was the sole symbol that identified me as the heir to my family's business empire.

To see it was to see the head of the family.