Married to the ruthless Billionaire Mafia

The car hummed along the dark road, its tinted windows hiding Rose Blake from the city she was leaving behind. She sat in silence, her arms wrapped around herself, eyes blurred with unshed tears. Boston's lights had already faded into the distance, but her father's voice clung to her like smoke.

Rosie, I never meant for this. I only wanted to keep you safe. To give you a chance.

She pressed her forehead against the cool glass, the ache in her chest sharp and relentless. He had meant every word. Her father had worked himself to the bone for her since her mother walked out, stringing together odd jobs, drowning his despair in bottles and bad bets when it got too much. 

Every loan, every reckless gamble, had been for her tuition, the bills, the roof that kept her dry and now the debt collectors had come with suits and polished guns threatening not just his life but hers also.

If you don't comply, Rosie, they won't just kill me. They'll kill you too.

Her throat closed. She had screamed at him, begged him to let her quit law school, to let her work double shifts instead. But he had only shaken his head, tears swimming in his tired eyes, begging her to understand. This was his fault, but she was the price.

Her gaze dropped to her hand, to the ring catching in the dim light of the passing streetlamps. A flawless diamond set in a band of gold. The devil's mark. The thought of it made her stomach twist. To the world, it meant wealth, security, and prestige. To her, it was chains.

She curled her fingers into a fist until the metal cut into her skin.

The car slowed down and the driver muttered something in Italian. Gravel crunched beneath the tires, and Rose's chest tightened. The door opened, letting in a cold blast of air that carried the sharp tang of jet fuel.

A man in a dark coat stepped forward, his voice smooth but firm. "Signorina." He gestured toward the floodlit tarmac.

Rose stepped out, the chill biting through her blouse. Her heels sank into the damp stone, each step heavier than the last. Ahead, under the harsh white lights, a sleek jet waited, engines humming low. It didn't look like a machine...it looked like a sentence, ready to deliver her into another man's hands.

Men in black lined the tarmac, standing in silent formation. Their coats shifted in the wind, and their hands were clasped in front of them. The air smelled of jet fuel and cold rain, the low rumble of the engines vibrating through the ground beneath her feet.

The wedding dress felt heavier with every step she took. White silk, trailing, perfect, but to her, it was a shroud. She hated it. The way it wrapped around her body, the way the ring on her finger burned like a brand.

She held her chin high, but her stomach knotted tighter as