Claimed by Her Mafia Man

By the time the priest announced them man and wife, no one stopped them from kissing.

He grabbed the back of her neck, holding her close. The possession was clear. She now belonged to him. No one could ever have her. She was all his.

Applause echoed around the church. She ignored it all.

“I promise you, you haven’t made a mistake.”

She didn’t think she’d made a mistake. Staring out at the Family, she wondered if they had regretted allowing this to go ahead. Holding on to Damon’s hand, she would make sure her man never fell. She’d keep him strong.

As they walked out of the church, rather than feeling hollow, she was energized. This was her life now and she would bask and accept it. No one was going to take this away from her.

Pictures were taken and with each flash of the camera, she felt certain in her future. She would be happy. It was what her father wanted, and she would fight to claim it for herself.

****

“I expected her to run,” Damon said, sipping at his glass of champagne, which he hated. The taste was too bubbly.

He preferred a really good whiskey, even on his wedding day. His wife stood listening to men and women congratulate her. Henrietta was by her side, and he’d noted the way some of the people treated the woman. To them, she was nothing more than a cook, but to Isabella, she was a rock of strength, one she needed right now more than ever before.

“She’s going to surprise you. I hope you’re ready for that.”

“I’m ready for anything,” Damon said. “Have you heard word?”

“I know there is a new shipment of girls coming, but they’re being transferred into town via a truck,” Randy said.

“Does Isabella know?” Damon asked.

He’d been working closely with Randy to help keep Isabella safe and to find the person responsible for attempting to kill her. In the past few weeks, he had three possible suspects.

One, his own father, but this seemed completely unfounded. Why kill the woman his son showed an interest in marrying, unless something else was at stake?

Two, the Boss. Philip Drago had a great friendship with the man in charge of them all, and he had no doubt of the dirty information the man had. He sometimes wondered if Isabella’s father had been poisoned in an attempt to get rid of him. The autopsy had proved it was a weak heart. No toxins.

Three, he believed Randy could also be the one responsible. The man was a bastard son. He could potentially inherit Drago’s entire fortune, title, and no one would be able to ignore him, or push him aside. What made him doubt this man was his love of Isabella. The man loved her like a daughter, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t kill to get his spot. It was always convenient for him to be out running errands.

“She doesn’t know. I think it best she stay clear of this shipment. The last six have been compromised,” Randy said.

“Tighter security. I get it.” He didn’t want to lie to her. “She’s my main priority. I promised her father I’d make her happy. I won’t fail him.”

“Neither will I. Why don’t you go and dance with the bride herself?” Randy asked. “I’m on guard. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

If something was to happen, he’d have further doubts about this man’s intentions.

He walked across the dance floor. Isabella was finally alone.

“Enjoying the reception?” he asked.

“Can we leave?” she asked. She brushed a stray curl that had fallen over her eyes.

“Not yet. I’ve heard it’s not polite to skip out of your own wedding reception.”

“Pity. I thought you were all about the dangers and didn’t care what people thought.”

He laughed. “I don’t care what people think, but this is your day.”

“I don’t care about weddings, Damon. I never have.”

“This isn’t just any wedding, babe. This is your wedding.”

She took a deep breath, glancing around the room.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Nothing.”

He saw the sadness in her eyes and hated to think he was the cause.

“Tell me.” He stepped closer, blocking everything from view. She tilted her head back and he saw the glossiness of her eyes. She was close to crying.

“He should have been here.”

He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. He should have known she’d be thinking about her father during a time like this. He couldn’t blame her.

“I know.”

“I’m not usually prone to crying.”

“Don’t worry about it. It gives me hope that you’re a little easier to deal with. You’re a girl.”

She chuckled and he stroked her hair.

He was a man and he was very much aware of the curves of her body. How close she was. The sweetness of her scent.

Tonight was their wedding night.

He’d never been with a virgin before. His father had tried to offer him guidance in telling him to be swift and quick. Virgins didn’t need to be cared for. They expected pain, so just get it over with. He’d wanted to kill his father. He’d done his own research and knew what to expect.