So heyyy guys l am back here with another new story and this time it's different from the one which l wrote previously this is a romantic mafia story as few of you asked me to make so here l am to fulfil your wish ✨️🖤

So l really hope you guys enjoy this story and do drop your suggestions thoughts and requests 🖤✨️

l would love to hear them

so let's start the story ✨️🖤✨️🖤✨️

The chandeliers glimmered like shattered stars above my head, but the glittering lights couldn’t hide the truth: I was being auctioned, wrapped in silk and lace, paraded like a prize before wolves.

My father’s voice echoed across the grand hall, filled with men whose hands were stained with blood and power. “Tonight,” he announced, “we seal our alliance. My daughter will marry into the Vasilev empire.”

Gasps rippled through the crowd. The Vasilevs. Ruthless, untouchable, kings of the underworld. I swallowed hard, my throat dry, as the doors opened and he stepped inside.

Adrian Vasilev.

The devil himself in an immaculate black suit. His presence shifted the air, sharp and suffocating. Every pair of eyes followed him, but his gaze locked on mine—cold, merciless, and far too knowing.

He didn’t smile. He didn’t need to. Power dripped from every measured step, the way his broad shoulders filled the room, the way people instinctively stepped back to give him space.

This was the man I was supposed to marry.

The man whispered about in hushed voices.

The man who could kill with a glance—and yet, somehow, the one my father thought could protect me.

He stopped a foot away, his eyes trailing over me like a dangerous caress. “So,” he said, his deep voice smooth as sin, “this is the daughter I’m supposed to chain to my side.”

I bristled, though fear coiled low in my belly. “You make it sound like a death sentence.”

His lips curved into the faintest ghost of a smile, but it wasn’t kind—it was a warning. “That’s because it is.”

The room seemed to vanish, the music fading into a dull hum as he extended his hand. His palm was steady, commanding, waiting. And though every instinct screamed at me to run, I found my fingers slipping into his.

Heat shot through me, unexpected, unwelcome. My pulse betrayed me, hammering in my chest. His grip was firm, almost possessive, as though he already owned me.

Leaning close, so only I could hear, Adrian murmured, “You’ll learn quickly, sweetheart. In my world, love is a weapon. And I always win.”

My breath caught, my heart split between terror and something far more dangerous: desire.

As the applause erupted around us, sealing the engagement, I knew one thing with brutal clarity.

I wasn’t just stepping into a marriage.

I was stepping into the fire.

And Adrian Vasilev wasn’t going to let me walk out unburned.

The ballroom had emptied, leaving only the scent of roses and smoke in the air. I thought I could finally breathe, but when I turned, Adrian was there—leaning against the marble pillar like he owned not just the room, but the air inside my lungs.

“You don’t look happy, wife,” he drawled, the word rolling off his tongue like venom wrapped in silk.

I lifted my chin. “Maybe that’s because I’m not.”

His eyes, stormy gray and sharp enough to cut, flickered with amusement. He stepped closer, the sound of his polished shoes echoing in the silence. I felt the heat radiate from him before he even touched me.

“You should be,” he murmured. “Women would kill to stand where you are.”

I laughed bitterly. “Then maybe you should have married one of them.”

His hand shot out, fingers brushing my jaw, tilting my face up. The gesture wasn’t gentle—it was a claim, a reminder of the cage I now lived in. His touch seared me, and though my body screamed at me to step back, I stood frozen, trapped between fear and a pull I couldn’t explain.

“I don’t take what I don’t want,” he whispered. “And make no mistake, I want you. But understand this—” his grip tightened ever so slightly, his voice dropping to a dangerous growl, “—you belong to me now. Your smiles, your tears, your blood, your body. Mine.”

The words should have disgusted me, terrified me. Instead, my pulse betrayed me, hammering wildly, heat spreading down my spine. I hated the way my breath caught, the way my lips parted as though inviting him closer.

But before I could gather a retort, a commotion erupted outside the hall. Shouting. The unmistakable crack of a gunshot. My heart leapt to my throat.

Adrian’s hand dropped from my face, but not before I saw his expression change. In an instant, the dangerous seducer became the cold, ruthless heir of the Vasilevs. His jaw tightened, his gaze sharpened, and he reached inside his suit jacket. The metallic glint of a gun appeared in his hand as naturally as if it were an extension of his arm.

“Stay behind me,” he ordered, voice like steel.

“I—what’s happening?” My voice trembled despite my attempt at control.

“Welcome to my world, sweetheart,” he said without looking at me, eyes fixed on the door. “This is what it means to marry the devil.”

The doors burst open, and masked men stormed in. My scream caught in my throat. Adrian raised his weapon, and before I could even blink, the ballroom lit up with the sharp, deafening crack of gunfire.

I clutched my gown, heart racing, as the man who had just claimed me with words now claimed the room with bullets—each shot precise, merciless, final.

And as I watched him move—lethal, graceful, beautiful in the most terrifying way—I realized something that shook me more than the blood staining the floor.

Adrian Vasilev wasn’t just my husband.

He was my fate.

The ballroom floor was painted red by the time silence returned. Bodies lay scattered like discarded chess pieces, and the sweet perfume of roses had been replaced by the metallic sting of blood.

I pressed a trembling hand to my chest, my pulse thundering so hard I thought it might break my ribs. My dress was untouched, but my innocence? That had been shot dead along with the masked men.

Adrian holstered his gun with unnerving calm. His suit was splattered with crimson, his shirt collar loosened just slightly, like this was nothing more than an inconvenience. His gray eyes, cold as steel, found mine.

“You’re shaking.” His voice was low, almost taunting.

“I—” My throat was dry, the word catching. “You just murdered—”

“Enemies,” he interrupted, stepping closer. “Not men. Not husbands. Not fathers. Enemies. Remember that distinction, sweetheart, because it’s one you’ll need to survive.”

I stumbled back, nearly tripping on my gown, but he caught me with iron hands. His grip steadied me, strong and unyielding, as though letting me fall was never an option.

“You think you can stand at my side without blood on your hands?” His gaze pinned me in place. “This is the price of power. This is the oath we live by.”

“I never asked for this!” The words tore out of me, raw and trembling.

He smirked, dark and dangerous. “And yet here you are—my wife, my possession, bound to me by your father’s oath. You can hate me all you want, but you will play your part.”

My lips parted to argue, but the glint in his eyes froze me. He leaned closer, his breath brushing my ear.

“Because if you don’t…” His voice dropped to a lethal whisper. “…you’ll find out very quickly what happens to traitors in my world.”

A shiver crawled down my spine. I hated him. I hated the way his words twisted into my skin, the way fear and something darker—something forbidden—tightened in my chest.

Adrian released me, straightening, as if he hadn’t just carved the threat into my soul. He glanced at the guards rushing in to clear the room, his tone casual, almost bored.

“Get her cleaned up,” he ordered them. “She’s shaken.”

“I’m not—” I began, but his sharp look silenced me.

He strode toward the exit, power radiating from every step. Before leaving, he paused, turning just enough for his words to slice through the air.

“Tonight, you learned your first lesson, wife.” His smirk curved into something sinful. “In my world, loyalty is blood. And blood is everything.”

The doors closed behind him, leaving me trembling, surrounded by shadows and secrets.

And as I stood there, clutching the remnants of my pride, I realized something that stole my breath—

I wasn’t afraid of becoming his enemy.

I was afraid of becoming his.

🖤✨️🖤✨️🖤✨️🖤✨️🖤✨️🖤✨️🖤✨️🖤🖤✨️🖤✨️🖤✨️🖤✨️🖤✨️🖤✨️🖤✨️🖤✨️🖤✨️🖤✨️🖤✨️🖤✨️🖤✨️🖤✨️🖤✨️

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