The Don's Runaway bride

Today is the worst day of my life!

Maybe I should rephrase that. Today is one of the worst days of my life. Because I'm very certain that with my present predicament, there will be days worse than this.

As the Mayor's smart-ass daughter and the youngest professor in De-Queens College, I was popular among my peers and well-celebrated. When I got the opportunity to share my thoughts about the struggles our dear town was facing in a four-page journal, I poured out my heart, focusing my writing on the 'one man' I shouldn't have talked about.

The journal got flagged down, of course, and its publication halted indefinitely. But the damage had been done, and unknown to me, the man I wrote about was worse than I thought and he neither forgives, nor does he forget.

Pietro Eppolito is the devil that has tormented our city for the longest. He is a beast, a demon, even. Ruthless, merciless, bloody, monstrous. He kills for a living and he has turned our city into his den and my father, the Mayor of Queensland, his puppet.

Writing a journal about Pietro's evil in Queensland was a wrong decision I made. I thought I was doing the right thing for my father, not until he informed me that a marriage to Pietro was the only way to take back everything I said and clear his image.

My puppet-father wants me to marry Pietro Eppolito and as it seems, I have no choice in the matter!

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CHAPTER 1

ARIA'S POV (2 WEEKS AGO)

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My father and I sat in his home office when Pietro Eppolito barged in. He walked over to the edge of the room and took a seat.

The accusing glare I threw at my father didn't seem to affect him. His body language clearly showed his terror.

With the devil himself now present, my father explained the reason we were summoned. It turned out to be about a union between me and Pietro Eppolito. I was utterly disappointed that my father would even propose such.

"What about my dreams?" I yelled at him. "You don't care about my dreams anymore?"

"You need to get married, Aria." My Dad replied.

"And you think it has to be to this man?" I pointed at Pietro, feeling too brave.

"He can take care of you. What else do you want?"

"What is wrong with you?" I snapped at my father and caught a lazy yawn from the devil. "Haven't you asked around? Surely you know who this man is and what he's capable of doing. Don't you?"

My father hung his head in sheer pain. "It's not up to me; I can't stop him. The deed is done."

It dawned on me now. I didn't have any choice in the matter. That selfish, narcissistic prick had me cornered, and he must have threatened my father with something to get him to do his bidding.

I spared another look at Pietro and caught him staring at me. "He's right," Pietro said. "There's no way out of this."

Heat splashed across my cheeks. Then I turned to my father to plead my case again, but the man shook his head. "It's been finalized."

A surge of outrage overtook me. "You can't be serious!" But my father stared blankly at me. "You're the Mayor, surely you can stop this disaster from happening."

He shook his head. "He promised to be faithful while you're still..."

"What are you saying, Dad?" I cut him off. "I don't understand." I continued and turned to Pietro. "Why are you doing this? I have a job; I have plans for myself, and I have dreams. You can't do this to me." I tried reasoning with him. "Please don't do this," my voice wobbled. "Please..."

Pietro stood up and stepped closer to me. A look in my father's direction had the older man scrambling out of his home office. Then he turned his full attention to me.

"If you were asking for anything other than not marrying me, believe me, with the way you're begging, I would have moved heaven and earth to make it happen for you. But this-this marriage... It's already done." He stated.

A sob crawled up my throat, but I swallowed it before any tears could fall. "I can't do this," I said truthfully. "Not with you."

I felt his mood blacken in an instant, like a rolling storm. "Why?" He asked me.

I shook my head, refusing to talk. "Why!" He yelled at me.

"You... you're a criminal. You murder people in cold blood. You treat women like trash. You hurt people." I would have kept talking if he hadn't pushed me back and pinned me to the wall. "I won't marry you," I persisted.

"You will." He said with so much certainty. "I'm okay with dragging you down the aisle while you scream your lungs out, if that's what it's going to take. In fact, I might just prefer it."

"You want to humiliate me," I stated.

"No, I want to break you." My heart wanted to explode, and my lips started trembling.

"He is a cancer in the community, so much so that if the world is facing an apocalypse, we'd have to pray he isn't one of the people to help us. Because I wouldn't advise anyone to accept his help, even in such a dire situation." Pietro quoted a paragraph from the journal I wrote. "You wrote this about me without even meeting me in person." He whispered in my ear. "You have my full attention now, Tesorina." He added.

"No," I shook my head. "I don't want your attention." I insisted, my eyes tracking his tongue as it darted out to moisten his lips. "I'd rather throw myself in front of a moving van than marry you."

He chuckled, "Dramatic," he said. "You'll eat your words soon."

I was less than a foot away from him now and I didn't notice he was cornering and trapping me with no escape until it became too late. He brought his face down until we were mere inches apart. My breath hitched, and my heartbeat started racing, galloping.

"Now tell me," he started, "do you really hate me?"

I was breathless, and while I was battling with an answer, he leaned in and kissed my collarbone. A groan escaped my lips, shocking me. His hand came up to cup the other side of my face, then slid into my hair. He gripped it and pulled my head to one side, giving him better access to my neck.

Then he ran his nose up the expanse of my throat, leaving me panting, breathless. His hand slid underneath my top and made contact with the skin of my stomach. The contact was barely a graze, and I felt so sensitive, fragile almost, because of it.

He curled a hand around my waist, fingers digging into my skin, pulling me closer against him.

"Look at you, Tesorina." He murmured, "I'm barely touching you." His fingers teased the skin at the hem of my jeans. "And you're a whimpering mess."

That was when I realized how much I was shaking, and I was even clinging to him like I was drowning and he was my lifeguard or lifeboat. That was also when I realized my eyes were shut and my lips were parted.

Embarrassed, I tried pushing him away, but he refused to budge or let me go. Instead, he pressed me against his body until I felt his erection against my stomach. My eyes flew open to find him staring down at me with a dark, erotic look on his face.

"You're aching for me." He said, "You're arching into me, you want me?" His voice was ragged with his arousal. "We're going to get married." He stated.

"No..." I let out.

"Yes, Aria Kostas. If not, I will wipe away everyone you care about, starting from your dear father." He added, flashing me an evil smile. "I'm a criminal, after all."

He repeated my words and walked away, leaving me in a total erotic mess.

ARIA'S POV (Present Day)

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I walked into the gigantic home of Pietro Eppolito. The guards were obviously alarmed when they saw me, but they didn't say a word. Seeing Pietro's supposed bride in her wedding dress waltzing into the house as if she owns it. Well, I might own it if the wedding pulls through.

The man who was once introduced to me as Giancarlo was the first to see me when I pushed open the entrance door. He frowned briefly. But I didn't give a hoot. It's actually my wedding day today. Everything is set. Our families are waiting, and I'm dressed for the so-called union.

But I decided to speak to Pietro one more time to see if he could change his fucking mind. It was either that or I'll go ahead with the carefully orchestrated plan I already set in motion.

"This is not a good time, Aria," Giancarlo called with such familiarity that you'd think we were friends, but we weren't.

"I need to see Pietro," I replied instead. "Tell him I need just a few minutes of his time. I won't be long. I promise." I replied, lifting my wedding dress to adjust my step.

"You're supposed to be at the church. What do you think you're doing here?" He asked, the worry lines on his forehead deepening.

"I was on my way to church. The car is waiting for me outside. I just need to speak to Pietro, please." He stared at me briefly, contemplating if this was a good idea or not. Then he nodded.

"Stay here. Do not take a step. I'll see if I can get him to see you."

"Thank you," I replied as he walked out of the room.

I watched him disappear into the room down the dimly lit hallway of the house. I waited for a while, maybe a minute or two. But I waited. When I didn't see anyone, I started towards the direction Giancarlo had disappeared to.

What I assumed to be a room turned out to be a straight passage with doors on each side. I moved down the passage, checking each room, one room at a time, and passed four guards who were heading outside along the way.

None of them stopped me, nor did they offer me an answer when I asked them about Pietro's whereabouts.

I have a car parked just down the road, outside Pietro's house, with a small traveling box containing a few of my clothes and fake passports. All I needed to do was get this discussion with Pietro over with, and if the man doesn't see reasons with me, then I'll disappear.

There was no other option aside from that. Marriage to a man like Pietro is out of the question and I must say "over my dead body". I was very certain he was trying to box me up and deal with me for daring to speak my mind.

If I agreed to this marriage, then by the time he would be done with me, I'd be nothing but dust.

The next door I opened had a dark passageway and another door that led to a well-lit-room. I could see Pietro's back through the window.

I closed the door behind me and walked toward the door. I had just pulled the door handle when I heard loud gunshots fired at a man lying on the floor three times.

A loud gasp escaped my lips, and Pietro turned to the door. He frowned and handed his gun to Giancarlo. He was dressed in an ash-colored suit that did so much justice to his hot body. But my eyes went back to the lifeless body on the floor and my brain focused there.

Pietro observed me under those dreadful eyes of his. "Hello, Tesorina." He called and started walking toward me like a lion that had just discovered his prey.

Reacting to instincts, I bolted out of the room. I heard him shouting about something or at someone. But my legs were very fast. My ticket out of this goddamn city was parked at a safe distance from his house and I needed to get to it before Pietro or any of his men did.

I managed to run out of his house amid confused guards. And just as I stepped behind the wheels of my car, I saw two of Pietro's men run out of the gate.

I adjusted myself behind the wheels and zoomed off. Unfortunately, one of Pietro's cars was already on my tail.

'Goddamn it!'

PIETRO'S POV

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I've been tagged a lot of things; Beast, Reaper, Dark Prince, Killer, Monster, Psychopath, Murderer, Mad Prince, and several others. Personally, I think the term "Mad Prince" suits me best. Because only a madman can do the things I've done.

But I'm a King now. "Mad King."

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There are groups of humans that see themselves as gods. They always find a way to inflict pain on others just to feel powerful. In their attempt to coexist, they find a way to categorize themselves within a small cult; godfathers, consigleres, dons, capos, soldiers, and every stupid name and rank they could think of.

The quest for power can be intoxicating. From an early age, I learned a few things about life; the world is a hunting ground. You are either the hunter or the prey. Devour or get devoured.

A lot of evil has happened to me. I watched my brothers; half brothers, stepbrothers, adopted brothers, less worthy brothers, fall one by one until it was just me and Edoardo. We've been tortured emotionally, so much so that we've gone numb and don't remember what feelings feel like anymore.

With each death of our siblings, our father's beastly nature grew calmer until his wife got taken too. Then he bowed and turned into a weakling, barely surviving.

I had to become a man at the age of 15. I struggled, adapted, and survived and when I was ready, I started hunting my prey, my brother's killers. I took them down, one after the other, taking everything from them as I went.

The things I've accomplished, the billions I've made, the fear and respect I've earned, the murders I've committed and gotten away with, are uncountable.

But then, the mayor's daughter decides to make me a person of interest in her small journal. Now she's on my radar and all I want to do is break her, mold her, break her again, remold her, and break her all over again.

Maybe that's the only way I could spare her father, who happens to be my next prey.

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I was all ready for my big day. I'd imagined this day and all the things that could go wrong. But nothing came to mind.

Roberto Kostas knew better than to play with me. And Aria... well, she had exhausted all her tricks. And had obviously given up trying to plead her way out of the marriage.

I was trying to clear out the last of the mishaps that would have happened to my next shipment when Giancarlo walked in, his worry lines deeper than usual.

The old man was here to tell me how wrong it was to kill on my wedding day. Who the hell is going to listen to him? Not me, of course.

"She's here," Giancarlo said instead.

"Speak in plain sentences, Carlo." I hummed.

"Your bride." He continued. "She's here to see you." He added.

That made me smile. Aria Kostas would never give up, would she? It made me wonder who she took after, her father or mother. Obviously her mother. Roberto Kostas doesn't have half the balls Aria has. He might be a diabolical cancer that needs to be cut off, but he's nothing but dust to me.

If only Aria could take a minute to see the good in my proposal. Being married to me means keeping her father alive, for now. She should be grateful to me. "What does she want?" I asked Giancarlo.

"She didn't say. But she said it wouldn't be long." He replied.

A call came through my phone. It was my father. "Padrino," I paused. "Si," I replied.

After a few seconds of silence, I ended the call. "Everything is set," I said to Carlo. "Let's get out of here," I added, emptying three bullets into various parts of the infidel's body. Then I heard a gasp. It was my bride. She'd seen me kill a man. And she looked white as a sheet.

"Hello, Tesorina," I called, but she rushed out of the room in a flash.

"Carlo, what the hell is she doing in here?" I yelled at the older man. He was already on the move, shouting out orders in his walkie-talkie. I followed behind, almost running.

Not today. This can't be happening today. She was nowhere to be found when we got outside. But some of my men were already on her tail. I jumped into my car, taking over the steering wheel. Carlo sat right next to me, still with the walkie-talkie. I pulled it away from his hand and shouted at whoever was at the other end of the line.

"Don't you fuckin lose her. Do you hear me?" I pushed back the walkie-talkie to Carlo and pulled my car into the streets.

Carlo set up the GPS to track our other car that was already in pursuit. They were headed towards the subway.

"Shit!"

A small smile crossed my face. Where could she possibly run to? I will catch her, no matter where she goes. She's wearing a heavy wedding dress. So, finding her wouldn't be so hard.

We were so close now that I could see my men's car. They pulled up to the curb beside the subway and jumped down. I pulled my car over as well. My adrenaline was pumping. This would have been so much fun if it wasn't my fucking wedding day.

Carlo was out of the car before I could successfully pull over. I ran down the subway with him, right behind our men. Then the craziest thing happened.

Right there at the subway, there were three... four... six... nine ladies putting on wedding dresses, walking aimlessly across the subway.

"What the fuck!" Carlo shouted.

I shook my head in disbelief. I'd underestimated Aria Kostas. She had it all planned out. I knew she wasn't here anymore. But where could she be? I pulled away from the spot and scanned the entire subway slowly with my eyes.

Then I spotted someone: a black jacket, a cap, a little bag. She was rushing back up the way we came from. I picked up a run and rushed after her.

"Tesorina!" I yelled. But just as I climbed up the staircase and rushed to the sidewalk, I saw her enter a car; she looked at me squarely before pulling away.

I rushed to my car immediately. But alas, my tires had been deflated. Same with my men's car. Looking up, I watched her car disappear in frustration. I'd fucking underestimated her.

"Fuck!!!" I yelled, kicking my car tyre in sheer frustration. Carlo was beside me in a snap. "DW469CP. That's her license plate number. Get our men at the airport, borders, bus terminals, train stations. Do whatever the fuck you can. Don't you dare lose her?" I warned.

"Yes, I'm on it." He said, typing on his phone furiously. "The ladies were all paid $200 by some anonymous man to wear those wedding dresses." He announced, while still typing.

I nodded. "I underestimated her. Fuckin Aria Kostas."