Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 105679 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105679 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Walking right into her demise.
How fucking poetic.
She moved with measured steps, her father at her side, but her eyes were fixed on me. Even through the veil, I could see the confusion, the fear, the uncertainty.
But also something else—a reluctant acceptance.
That was exactly what I had needed. Her acceptance for this marriage. She had been too frightened this morning, too confused, and I had seen the protectiveness in Damon’s eyes. He would have taken his sister away if she had asked for it.
But I had needed her to walk down this aisle willingly.
So I spoke little white lies.
As she drew closer, I couldn’t help but wonder again what had happened last night.
My plan had been something else entirely, but Serafina had surprised me. Shocked me really when she had shown up at my door, in the state that she was.
The way she had come to me, desperate and needy, her body responding to mine as if she’d been made for me… it wasn’t completely natural.
She had been out of her mind with lust.
Lust that couldn’t be possible without the help of something.
But how would she get her hands on something that dangerous? And why… why would she take it the night before her wedding?
None of it made sense.
I shouldn’t have touched her. But I was a greedy bastard, and I didn’t fucking care what had brought her to me. She had always been meant to be mine and I only took what she was willing to give me.
And now she was going to be mine forever.
My sweet bride.
My perfect pawn.
Her father placed her hand in mine, and I felt her tremble. I tightened my grip, tugging her to me so she would take her place at my side.
The priest began the ceremony, his words washing over me as I stared at Serafina. She was beautiful in her vulnerability, her eyes were red-rimmed, haunted and yet she tried to hide her uncertainties behind a mask of composure.
“Adrian Salvatore,” the priest said, pulling me from my thoughts. “Do you take Serafina Morelli to be your lawfully wedded wife?”
I looked into her eyes, seeing the reflection of my own darkness there. “I do.”
Little did she know…
Our story was forged from shattered bones and built on splintered spines; our pages soaked in blood and stained with death, cursed from the first sentence by a fate neither of us would ever outrun.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Serafina
The weight of my wedding band felt foreign against my finger, a constant reminder of the vows I had exchanged just hours ago.
Mrs. Adrian Salvatore.
My identity was now my husband’s name.
I wasn’t Serafina Morelli anymore.
I was just Adrian’s wife.
My mind replayed fragments of the day in disjointed flashes. The church had been a blur of white flowers and judgmental stares. The reception—champagne toasts I couldn’t taste, congratulations that felt like accusations. Through it all, Adrian’s hand had remained firmly on my lower back, a constant, possessive reminder of my new reality.
My thoughts spiraled as the car glided through winding roads, each mile taking me farther from everything I had ever known.
Mrs. Adrian Salvatore.
The words still didn’t feel real.
I was supposed to be Matteo’s wife. That had been the plan, the arrangement, the future I’d been groomed for since childhood. And now...
I stared out the window, watching the landscape transform from the familiar streets of New York to something wilder, more untamed. My reflection in the glass looked like a stranger. A woman dressed in white, her makeup impeccable despite the tears that had threatened to fall throughout the ceremony. This woman didn’t feel like me…
And yet she was me.
“Welcome to your new home.”
Adrian’s voice cut through my thoughts and the silence of the car, startling me. I hadn’t realized the car had come to a stop. He stepped out with fluid grace, his tall frame a shadow against the evening sky, and walked around to my side. The door opened, and his hand extended toward me.
I hesitated for only a moment before placing my trembling hand in his much rougher, bigger one. His fingers closed around mine, his grip firm, as he helped me from the vehicle.
I looked up and my breath hitched.
His private estate loomed before us, nothing like the traditional Salvatore family mansion I had expected. This was different—sleeker and more modern, with clean lines and floor-to-ceiling windows that reflected the fading light. Though much smaller than the family compound, it was still grand, imposing in its perfect isolation.
The house sat nestled at the edge of dense woods, so far removed from civilization that I couldn’t even hear the distant hum of traffic. The tall, dense trees stood like silent sentinels against the darkening sky.
This wasn’t just a home; it was a fortress. Exactly how Adrian preferred it.
Just like Giulia had warned me. Secluded. Remote.
Almost like the perfect prison.
“Come,” Adrian commanded, his hand finding the small of my back as he guided me toward the house.