Married to a monster (The mafia boss)

"I won't marry him!" Kristen screamed, her voice cracking as tears streamed down her cheeks. She ran to the door, pounding her fists against the wood. "Let me out! You can't keep me locked in here like some animal!"

She hit the door again and again until her hands ached. "Please... someone help me..." Her voice broke into a whisper as she slid down to the cold floor, pulling her knees to her chest, shaking with sobs. No one came. No one ever did.

Hours passed. She cried until her body gave up and sleep took over.

A soft creak woke her.

The door opened, and Josephine, the maid, stepped inside. Her eyes landed on Kristen, who looked like a shadow of herself.

Kristen scrambled to her feet. "Please," she begged. "You have to help me get out. I'll do anything. I can't stay here. I can't marry that man."

Josephine didn't speak right away. Her face was full of pity, but her hands trembled as she held out a long white dress.

"Madam said to wear this, she wants you ready in thirty minutes," she said gently. "I'll come back later to get you."

Kristen stared at the dress like it was poison. "No... no, I'm not doing this, I'm not going to meet him." Her voice grew louder, panic rising. "Tell her I'm not putting that on!"

Josephine looked away. "I'm sorry," she whispered, before stepping out and locking the door behind her.

Kristen stood frozen. Then, all at once, rage filled her chest.

She snatched the dress and tore it apart, ripping the fabric with shaking hands until it was nothing but shreds on the floor. Then she dropped to her knees and cried harder than ever before.

"I'm not a doll. I'm not for sale," she whispered.

Her eyes caught the glass perfume bottle on the dresser, and it gave her an idea.

She wiped her face, pulled her hair back, and waited in the shadows.

When Josephine returned, the room was dark.

"Kristen?" she called out gently.

A second later, Kristen stepped from behind the curtain and swung the bottle.

It hit Josephine's head making her to drop to the floor.

"I'm sorry-I'm so sorry," Kristen whispered, stepping over the maid's body. "Forgive me. I didn't want to hurt you. I just want to leave."

Then She ran away, barefoot through the hallway. Her heart pounding, Every step felt like forever.

She made it to the gate but it was Locked.

Her stomach dropped. "No, no, no..."

She turned and ran toward the back garden. There was a tall fence. Too tall. But she had to try.

She jumped, trying to grab the top, but instead she slipped and fell hard on her back making her groan, but she stood again. She had to.

Her hands were bleeding, and her knees scraped, but she grabbed the fence again.

That's when she heard it.

"She's over here!"

A flashlight hit her eyes. Two guards ran toward her.

"No!" she screamed, trying to run but they grabbed her arms.

"Let me go!" she cried. "Please don't take me back!" no one listened to her, instead they dragged her inside.

Back inside, Carolina waited, eyes full of fury.

"You little brat!" she shouted, storming across the room and slapping Kristen across the face.

Kristen staggered back, pain stinging her cheek.

"How dare you run off like that?" Carolina snapped. "Do you want to ruin everything?"

Kristen looked around, hoping-just hoping-her father would speak up.

He didn't.

"Do you know how much you've embarrassed me tonight?" Carolina snapped

"Please, Mother" Kristen whispered. "I don't want to marry him. He's dangerous."

Carolina laughed coldly. "I'm not your mother. Stop calling me that."

Kristen's stomach turned. She already felt alone. Now she just felt... invisible.

"You think you have a choice?" Carolina hissed. "We gave you everything you ever asked for. We protected you. And all we asked was one thing."

"It was supposed to be Sophie," Kristen muttered. "The deal was for her."

Carolina's eyes narrowed. "My daughter isn't going near a man like that. You, on the other hand... you're useful."

Kristen blinked. "So I'm just being used?"

"You should be thanking me," Carolina snapped. Then she turned to Clinton, her bodyguard. "We move the wedding up."

Kristen's breath caught. "What... what do you mean?" Dad... Please. Don't let her do this." she begged

He didn't reply to her, he just looked away.

"You want to run?" Carolina said, her tone sharp. "Fine. Let's marry you off before you get any more ideas."

Then she turned to Clinton. "Call him. Tell him we're ready"

Clinton nodded.

"We'll have it done tomorrow. She can cry later."

And Kristen was dragged to her room and locked up again.

The next morning came fast. Too fast. Kristen barely slept. Her body ached. Her throat was dry from crying.

The door opened and some maids entered. Four of them.

"Madam said we must bathe you," one of them said. "Scrub every inch. You must look perfect for your husband."

Kristen's mouth dropped open. "You're kidding."

They didn't answer.

She didn't fight. There was no strength left.

They filled the tub. Scrubbed her skin until it burned. Washed her hair. Combed every strand. After that they rubbed oils all over her body and hair."She must smell like heaven," one whispered.

"She must shine," said another. "We will make her flawless."

Kristen sat still through all of it, her face like stone, When they were done, they dressed her in a white dress, it was too tight but she didn't care. She stared at the girl in the mirror. She didn't look like herself anymore.

She dabbed some color on her cheeks, spritz her favorite perfume, and whispered, "You're still here. They didn't win."

Her hands trembled as she walked downstairs. Her father stood by the fireplace, looking lost, as if he wanted to say something but didn't.

Carolina and Sophie sat on the couch, all smiles and whispers.

Kristen ignored them.

She held her chin high.

"Don Carlo is here," Clinton said.

Kristen looked up.

The door opened.

And everything changed.

The room went dead silent the moment Don Carlo walked in.

Kristen froze.

She'd expected someone older. Maybe wrinkled, rough-looking-scarred from violence. But the man in front of her was nothing like that.

He was drop dead gorgeous.

Tall, broad, sharp-jawed. His black suit fit like it was made just for him, and his blue eyes-cold and calculating. He moved through the room like he owned everything in it. Kristen's skin crawled as his gaze swept over her, icy and full of power. No smile. No kindness. Just raw authority.

She stood stiffly, trying not to shake.

Carlo's eyes paused on her. The white dress. Her red-painted lips. The way her hands trembled at her sides. But his face gave nothing away.

Then he walked right past her like she wasn't even there.

"Welcome, Don Carlo," her father said nervously. "Please, have a seat. The maid will bring your drink. Let's talk about the deal"

Carlo raised a hand, cutting him off.

"No need for small talk, Mr. Wilson," he said coldly. "Let's get this over with. I've got more important business."

Kristen stood frozen as Carlo picked up the pen and signed the papers like he was buying a car, not marrying a woman. When it was her turn, her fingers trembled so much she nearly dropped the pen.

As soon as she signed, Madam Carolina clapped her hands.

"It's done! You're husband and wife!" she squealed, fake joy dripping from every word.

Kristen's father looked at her-really looked and something flickered in his eyes. Maybe guilt. Maybe regret. But it was too late for either.

He'd just sold his daughter to the devil.

The car ride was silent. Carlo didn't say a word. Kristen stared out the window, trying to blink away the tears. She had heard the rumors about Don Carlo, the mafia king. A man feared by everyone. Owner of casinos, clubs, and God knows what else. Ruthless. Dangerous. The kind of man you didn't cross unless you had a death wish.

Now he was her husband.

She clutched the edge of her seat, praying he wouldn't speak.

The mansion was massive. Almost too perfect. Cold.

Carlo stepped inside like he owned the world. The staff greeted him, but he didn't even glance their way.

"Show her to her room," he told one of the maids. "Take her things."

Kristen moved to follow, numb and exhausted, when suddenly-

A strong hand grabbed her arm.

She gasped and looked up.

Carlo's eyes bore into hers.

"Let's get something straight," he said, voice low and dangerous. "This is a business deal. That's all. Don't expect love. Don't expect anything."

Kristen's heart pounded in her chest.

"You're not allowed to leave this house without my permission. Ever. Do you understand?"

"I'm not your prisoner!" she snapped, before she could stop herself.

His eyes flared with rage.

"What did you just say to me?" he growled, stepping closer.

"I said I'm not-!"

Before she could finish, he gripped her arm tighter, so tight it made her cry out.

"You are my prisoner," he hissed. "You belong to me now. Let that sink in."

"Let go! You're hurting me!" Kristen cried, twisting in pain.

Carlo leaned in, voice sharp and cruel. "This is what happens when you talk back."

He shoved her away. Kristen stumbled, clutching her red, aching arm. Tears filled her eyes, but she didn't let them fall.

"Get her out of my sight!" he snapped.

The maid hurried over, guiding Kristen to her room. She didn't say a word. Neither did Kristen.

Once inside, Kristen locked the door and collapsed on the bed. The moment the pillow touched her face, the sobs broke free. She cried until her body gave out and sleep took over.

The next morning

Sunlight slipped through the curtains.

Kristen woke slowly, her head pounding. Her eyes were swollen. Her body sore.

It wasn't a nightmare.

She was still here. Still trapped.

A knock at the door pulled her from her thoughts.

"Come in," she called, her voice hoarse.

A young maid stepped in, eyes cautious. "Good morning, madam. The boss requests you join him for breakfast."

Kristen sat up, glaring. "Tell him I'm not interested."

The maid hesitated. "But madam... he may get angry."

Kristen's voice rose. "I don't care! Just go!"

The maid bowed quickly and left the room, rushing to the dining hall where Don Carlo sat, alone at a grand table filled with food.

"Well?" he asked, not looking up.

"S-sir... the madam said she doesn't want to come."

Carlo's fork paused mid-air. His expression darkened.

"What?" he said, voice cold.

"She told me to leave... she's upset."

He slammed his fist on the table. Dishes rattled. The maid jumped.

"That ungrateful brat," he muttered, standing. "She thinks she can embarrass me? In my house?"

The maid stepped back, terrified.

Carlo's eyes burned as he stormed off. "She'll learn who she married."

DARK ROOM

The door slammed open with a thunderous crack.

Kristen jerked upright, heart leaping into her throat. She hadn't even heard footsteps, just the violent sound of the door hitting the wall and she knew it was him. Carlo.

He stormed into the room like a force of nature, eyes blazing, chest heaving. Every inch of him radiated fury. Kristen instinctively backed against the headboard, trying to make herself smaller.

Her hands gripped the sheets. "What... what do you want now?" she asked, voice trembling.

Carlo didn't answer right away. His eyes were locked on her like a predator sizing up prey. His jaw clenched. His fingers twitched at his sides.

"You really don't know when to shut your mouth," he finally snarled. "You embarrassed me. In front of my staff. In front of my people."

Kristen shook her head, eyes wide. "I didn't mean-"

"You disrespected me!" he roared, his voice echoing through the room. "You think because you're wearing a pretty dress and hiding behind the fact that we're married, I won't put you in your place?"

He lunged forward and seized her arms, dragging her off the bed like she was weightless. Kristen cried out, struggling against his grip.

"Let go of me! Stop!"

But he wasn't listening. His eyes were wild, his grip punishing.

"You want to be stubborn? You want to act strong? Fine." He shoved her down to the cold marble floor. "Let's see how strong you are when I break you."

"No–please!" she screamed, panic rising like a wave. Her knees scraped against the floor as she tried to crawl away, but he grabbed her again-rough, relentless, and lifted her over his shoulder like she was nothing more than a sack of flour.

"Put me down!" she screamed, pounding her fists into his back. "You're hurting me! You're hurting me!"

He didn't flinch. He didn't pause.

Kristen's breath hitched with every step he took down the long, silent corridor. Her eyes darted in every direction. No one came. Not a single soul.

"Where are you taking me?!" she sobbed, desperation in every word. "Please, Carlo-stop-just talk to me!"

But he said nothing.

They reached the end of the hall-a door she had never noticed before. Thick. Wooden. Heavy. He shoved it open and carried her inside.

It was pitch black. The only light came from the hallway behind them.

Then, with no warning, he dropped her. Kristen hit the cold cement floor with a sickening thud. Pain exploded in her ankle as it twisted awkwardly under her weight. She cried out, clutching her leg.

Carlo stood over her like a shadow.

"This," he said, voice low and cruel, "is where you'll learn how to behave."

He turned.

"No, wait! Please don't leave me here!" she cried, crawling after him.

But he didn't even glance back. He stepped outside, reached for the door, and slammed it shut. The lock clicked.

Kristen screamed, "Let me out! You can't do this! You bastard! Let me out!"

She banged on the door with both fists. Nothing. The silence around her was suffocating. The dark swallowed her whole.

You're alone.

Outside the room...

Carlo stood still for a moment, his back to the door. His hands trembled slightly. He gritted his teeth.

"She wants to act like she's in charge," he muttered. "Let's see how she handles the dark."

"Cassy!" he barked, his voice sharp enough to make the maid jump.

She hurried over. "Yes, sir?"

"Keep her locked in there. No food. No water. No visitors. She doesn't leave until I say so."

The maid hesitated. "But sir... she's just a girl."

He turned his glare on her.

That was all it took.

"I-I'm sorry," she stammered, bowing her head. "Of course."

Carlo turned and walked away, his steps echoing through the hall. But as he reached his room, something lingered, an uneasy weight pressing into his chest. Kristen's voice echoed in his head. Her fear. Her desperation.

Why did it bother him?

He tried to push it away. He focused on the past. On the reason he had brought her here.

Years ago...

His sister Evelyn had worked in Madam Carolina's mansion. She had been young, quiet, sweet-too gentle for the cruel world around her. When she fell ill, she had begged Carolina for her wages to get medicine.

But Carolina had turned her away.

"She's faking it," she'd said. "She's trying to guilt trip me."

Evelyn died a few weeks later wothout help. Alone. Cold. Starving.

Carlo remembered holding her hand as she took her last breath. He had nothing to give her. Not even a blanket.

From that day on, he'd sworn revenge.

He'd lived on the streets, barely surviving, until Don Ricko found him-a powerful mafia boss who saw something in the broken boy. Carlo rose through the ranks. And when Ricko died, he inherited the empire.

Then came his chance. Carolina-older now, desperate. She came begging for a loan. She was drowning in debt. He gave her everything she asked for, using lawyers to keep his name hidden.

And then, when the time came to collect, he offered a deal.

Her daughter. In exchange for freedom.

What she didn't know was that he'd never intended mercy.

"I've got her daughter now," he muttered, standing in front of his mirror, adjusting his tie. "And she'll pay for what her mother did."

Hours passed.

Kristen lay curled on the floor, her breath shallow. Her body trembled with cold. Her throat was dry. Her lips cracked. She tried to stand but collapsed again, crying out as her twisted ankle throbbed.

She had screamed. Pounded the door. Begged.

No one came.

Her tears had dried on her cheeks. Her voice was hoarse. She lay still now, staring into the darkness. Maybe this is how I die, she thought. Alone. Forgotten.

Her body finally gave in, and her world went black.

Later that night...

Carlo returned home, exhausted from a meeting. He poured himself a drink, sat down, and began eating dinner.

He had almost forgotten about her.

That was, until Cassy came to him..

"Sir..." she said quietly. "The madam... she's still in the room."

Carlo looked up.

"So?"

"She hasn't... come out. And I'm worried."

He sighed, waving a hand. "Fine. Let her out. I'm sure she's cooled down by now."

The maid nodded and rushed away.

Moments later...

A scream echoed from upstairs.

"Sir!" Cassy's voice rang out in panic. "Sir! It's the madam. she's unconscious!"

Carlo's heart skipped.

He stood, knocking his chair back. "What?"

"I found her on the floor! She's not moving!"