She Can't Be Tamed

A loud slap resonated through the room as Williams struck his daughter Arla across her face. He glared at her with fury in his eyes and said, "I've put up with your disrespectful behavior for too long. I took pity on you because your mother passed away when you were young, but it seems that I've spoiled you and given you too much freedom. How dare you ruin your sister's wedding? You've caused a rift between their company and mine!"

Arla stood her ground and replied, "You can watch your daughter marry a horrible man because of your own greed, but you know what? I just hate terrible people; they get on my nerves, so I decided to teach him a lesson."

Mia's mother Bella, infuriated by Arla's words, glared at her and exclaimed, "Look, she's not even sorry! You destroyed my daughter's wedding and still have the audacity to say such nonsense. You're an absolute disgrace!"

Arla, unfazed by Bella's anger, rolled her eyes and continued to chew gum while playing with her hair. Her blatant disregard for Bella's feelings only fueled the tension in the room.

"Get out! Get out of here!" Williams shouted at Arla, his patience wearing thin. With a smirk, Arla stared at Bella before turning and exiting the room.

As Arla walked through the hallway, Mia suddenly pulled her into a room and hugged her tightly. Arla pushed her away, a disgusted look on her face. "Too much PDA, ugh!" she complained. Mia, undeterred by Arla's reaction, smiled and said, "Thank you! I didn't want to marry that old man. You really saved me!"

Arla stretched out her hands expectantly. Mia, grinning, handed her a bundle of money. Arla sat on the bed and began counting it, but Mia interrupted her. "You don't need to count it. Don't you trust me? I even added more for the extra service."

Arla looked up at Mia. "He slapped me on my cheeks," she said, holding out her hands again. "Medical fees."

Mia shook her head, smiling. "What do you need this money for, anyway?" she asked.

Arla stood up after taking the extra bundle from Mia and replied, "Your father cut my allowance for three months," before shutting the door and leaving the room.

As Arla exited the room, she encountered her father's new mistress, Esme, who was deliberately avoiding her. Esme walked past Arla without even acknowledging her presence. Provoked, Arla called out, "Hey! Number 5!"

Esme turned around, irritated, and retorted, "I told you to stop calling me that!"

Arla, feeling an irresistible urge to stir up trouble, approached Esme and asked with a smirk, "What else would I call you? Hmmm, sugar baby? Orrrr..." she continued, intentionally dragging out the 'r' sound, "daddy stealer?"

Esme, growing increasingly annoyed, shot back, "Just wait until I give him an heir. You'll be the first person I'll kick out of this mansion!"

Arla burst into laughter, mocking Esme's threat. "You can't give that old man a boy; he doesn't have it in his genes. Unless you plan on bringing him a child that isn't his," she taunted before leaving Esme fuming with rage.

Later that night, Arla returned home well after midnight, still buzzing from a wild night of partying at the club. She was dressed provocatively, wearing a very short mini skirt and a top that exposed her cleavage. Arla was a tall, slim, medium-toned woman with dark hair, brown eyes, and an enticing figure she never hesitated to show off. Her preference for skimpy dresses, skirts, and crop tops reflected her bold personality.

William, her father, having grown weary of her behavior, made a phone call to Madam Laurette, a powerful woman known for her ruthless nature. As she answered the call, he conceded, "I'll accept your deal. Let's arrange the marriage between my youngest daughter, Arla, and your stepson, Liam."

The following morning, William summoned Arla to his office. She tied her hair into a ponytail and donned a black gown that hugged her figure and fell just above her knees. Chewing gum nonchalantly, she entered the office, greeting her father with a casual, "Hi, Mr. Williams."

He looked up at her, shaking his head in exasperation. "You're getting married this weekend," he informed her, expecting some form of resistance.

Arla, unfazed by the news, simply replied, "Okay."

Taken aback by her apparent indifference, William felt compelled to emphasize the gravity of his words. "No funny business this time around, or I will lock you up in a disciplinary home," he threatened.

Arla, undeterred by her father's warning, smiled and approached his desk. "You know threats don't work on me," she said before turning to leave the office.

William sighed, feeling exhausted by his daughter's unyielding behavior, and shifted his focus back to his work.

Meanwhile, at Liam's mansion, Laurette stormed into his office and tossed a file onto his desk. "You're marrying her this weekend," she announced, her tone brooking no argument. "No ceremony, just signing at the registry." With that, she turned on her heel and strode out of the room.

Liam's relationship with his stepmother was complicated; they shared a love-hate dynamic, yet he never disrespected her. After all, there had been a time in his life when Laurette had saved him from death. Still, this didn't mean they always saw eye to eye.

As a mafia leader, Liam was known for his ruthless nature and penchant for womanizing. However, there was one woman in his life who meant more to him than any other-Vivian. None of his mistresses dared to cross her, knowing full well that doing so would be tantamount to disobeying Liam himself.

The weekend arrived, and Arla entered the registry accompanied by Mia, Bella, and her father, William. There, they met Liam, a tall and well-built man with dark skin, a neat, low-cut hairstyle, and an impeccably tailored suit that accentuated his physique. His hardened gaze revealed his readiness to sign the marriage documents.

Upon seeing Liam, Mia raised her eyebrows and smiled at Arla. "Dad must love you so much to set you up with such a hunk," she whispered.

Arla, unimpressed, replied, "Not bad."

Arla strode in wearing a short white gown that Mia had insisted she wear for the occasion. She took her seat beside Liam, and once the signing was complete, Mia approached her.

"I'm going to miss you, Arla," Mia said, pulling her into a hug.

Bella interrupted, tugging Arla away from Mia. "Why would you miss this troublemaker?" Bella asked, feigning exasperation. "I'm going to throw a party to celebrate her departure from the mansion today!" she exclaimed, unable to contain her excitement.

Arla scoffed at Bella's comment and then turned her attention to Liam, who had been observing her with a piercing gaze. She winked at him playfully.

Just then, Laurette approached the group. "New bride, let's go," she said, addressing Arla.

Arla, disliking Laurette's chosen form of address, responded curtly, "I'm Arla, not 'new bride.'"

Unfazed by Arla's retort, Laurette simply entered her car, and the bodyguards opened the doors for Arla and Liam. The newlyweds joined Laurette, and the vehicle drove off.

During the ride, Arla sat across from Liam, who had yet to utter a single word to her since they had signed the marriage documents. Growing impatient, she asked, "Are you mute?"

Liam remained silent.

"He must be deaf," Arla mused aloud. "I knew this was too good to be true. When that old man married me off, I thought I'd finally met my Prince Charming. Instead, he married me to someone deaf and dumb."Liam's voice cut through the silence, laced with a hint of warning. "Keep quiet," he said, gesturing for her to stop talking.

Arla, undeterred by Liam's warning, tutted in response. "You know, it's very rude to shush someone. How would you feel if I called you a bastard?" As if her words had struck a nerve, Liam glared at her and said, "Are you asking for death?"

Arla, unfazed by his threat, replied, "Threats don't work on me, Mr. Husband. Just don't ever shush me again." She leaned back in her chair, satisfied with her bold declaration.

Liam stared at her, a hint of amusement in his gaze. Never before had someone dared to speak to him with such audacity.

Upon arriving at the mansion, Arla accompanied Liam to his private quarters. "This is your new home," he declared as he opened the ornate double doors, revealing a luxurious suite with an elegantly furnished living area adorned with antiques and opulent fabrics.

Liam entered the room, carelessly tossing his suit jacket onto a plush armchair. "You'll find everything you need here," he stated coldly. "My assistant will help you settle in. I have business to attend to."

Before he could leave, Arla spoke up. "You know, for a Mafia leader, you're not as terrifying as I expected," she said, her tone bold and unwavering.

Liam turned to face her, his gaze locking with hers. "Are you so eager to see the true depths of my darkness?" he questioned, his voice deep and captivating.

Unfazed, Arla held his gaze. "Show me your worst," she dared, a mischievous smile playing across her lips.

Liam's eyes darkened, and he leaned forward, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Be careful what you wish for, my dear wife. You just might get it."

With that warning, he left the room, leaving Arla alone with her thoughts and a growing sense of unease.

Arla shook her head and muttered, "He's not fun." A smile spread across her face as she thought to herself, "I'm finally free from that old man's grasp."

Wandering through the luxurious rooms, she marveled at her new surroundings. "Not bad," she murmured, trailing her fingers across the smooth surface of an elegant vanity.

A soft knock interrupted her exploration. Turning, she found a young woman at the doorway, a warm smile on her face. "I'm Celine, Liam's personal assistant," the woman introduced herself. "I'm here to help you with anything you need."

Arla studied Celine for a moment before responding. "So, you're my new spy then?" she asked, her lips curling into a half-smile.

Celine's smile widened. "I can be whatever you need me to be," she replied. "Now, let's get you settled in. Dinner will be served in an hour."

Arla rolled her eyes, growing irritated. "Are you an AI? Stop repeatedly reminding me," she snapped, dismissing the assistant before settling down on the couch to relax.

That evening, Arla entered the dining room and noticed Laurette, the lady of the house, sitting at the head of the table. There was another lady seated to Laurette's left, while the seat to her right was unoccupied. In addition, five other ladies were seated around the table. Arla, still dressed in her white short gown, walked into the room confidently.

Arla attempted to sit in the empty chair to Laurette's right, but a woman named Alice interrupted her, saying, "You can't sit there yet; you need to earn it." Arla paused for a moment, staring at Alice without uttering a word. Ignoring Alice's remark, Arla sat down in the chair anyway and declared, "I don't need to earn anything. This is my house, and I am the wife, so mind your business."

As Arla began eating, the other women remained silent. Vivian, who was seated across from Arla, didn't say a word but observed the scene quietly. Laurette, known for being a woman of few words, gazed at Arla with a piercing look.

Without a word, Laurette stood up from the table, prompting the other ladies to stand and follow her lead. None of them had touched their food, leaving Arla alone at the table. Unfazed by the women's actions, Arla continued enjoying her meal in solitude.

Seemingly unaffected by the tense encounter with the other women, Arla finished her meal and returned to her room. She sat by the window, admiring the view, though her calm demeanor masked a vulnerability she preferred to keep hidden. To avoid appearing weak, she took a shower and changed into a red lace nightgown.

As Arla entered the bedroom, she found Liam sitting on the couch, his attention focused on his phone. She couldn't help but admire his handsome features. Standing at the entrance of the bathroom, she stared at him. "Stop drooling," Liam teased without looking up.

Surprised, Arla insisted, "I'm not drooling. Why would I drool?" She then approached Liam and inquired, "You seem to have a lot of sisters..."

Liam chuckled and met her gaze, his eyes full of allure, causing Arla's heart to skip a beat. Swallowing hard, she managed to ask, "Cousins? Or aunts?"

Liam suggested, "Why don't you ask them yourself?" before adding, "You need to get along with them." He then removed his shirt and walked past her into the bathroom.

"How can I get along with people I don't even know their role?" Arla questioned, her confusion evident.

Pausing, Liam locked eyes with her and revealed, "They're mistresses, just like you."

Shocked by his statement, Arla stuttered, "What!?" Liam stepped into the shower, prompting her to follow. Before she could finish her question, she realized Liam was naked under the shower and quickly turned her back, preparing to leave.

However, Liam pulled her into the shower, his voice a mixture of amusement and challenge. "Didn't you come here expecting something to happen?" he asked, his words hanging in the air between them as the water cascaded over their bodies.

Arla's heart pounded as she found herself wrapped in Liam's arms, warm water flowing over them. His question lingered, and she knew he was right. The undeniable attraction between them needed to be confronted.

She turned to face him, their eyes locked. "And if I say no, what will you do?" Arla whispered, her voice barely audible.

Liam gently lifted her chin with his hand, water flowing over her face as she studied his handsome features. "What do you mean by mistresses?" Arla asked, trying to understand their situation.

Liam leaned closer to her face and questioned, "What do you understand by mistresses?" The proximity of their faces made Arla swallow hard, feeling the intensity of the moment.

Before she could respond, Liam pressed his lips against hers under the shower. His hands caressed her body as they deepened the kiss, the water drenching them and soaking Arla's once dry nightgown, exposing the outline of her body.

Her curves and full breasts were now evident through the clinging fabric. Liam lifted her and placed her on the edge of the sink, closer to the shower, still kissing her passionately. His hands explored her body, igniting a fire within her.

Suddenly, Liam tore her nightgown from the shoulder, breaking the kiss as they both gasped for breath. Arla stared at him, pulling him closer and whispering, "Quench this fire." With that, he ripped off her clothes and carried her to the bedroom, where a night of passion ensued. Arla's moans echoed throughout the corridor as they surrendered to their desires.

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.