Page 11 of The Mafia Marriage Contract

With a frustrated huff, she walks over to the mirror on the wall next to the terrace doors. “How am I supposed to goback inside in this state?”

“You look gorgeous, like a filthy little whore who couldn’t keep her legs closed until we got home.” My grin widens. “Myfilthy little whore.”

“You are such a disgusting pig,” she seethes, whipping around when I come up behind her.

I grab her by the wrist and spin her so we’re facing each other. Thin streams of moonlight spill across her face, making the diamonds on her tiara glitter like tiny stars.

“We fucked,” she says. “Big deal. It still changes nothing. I’m not your trophy.”

“Don’t fool yourself, princess. It changes everything,” I growl, grabbing her chin and tilting it so she’s forced to look at me. “I own you now, and your life is?—”

And then a single gunshot explodes into the air, swallowing the rest of my words.

5

LIVVIE

A single gunshot explodes into the night, slicing through Kingston’s words and sending my heart slamming into my ribs.

The bullet whizzes between us, the air shifting. My breath catches when his grip on my chin tightens, and his eyes darken as they sweep over my body.

“You okay?” he asks, the question rushed.

I nod. “Who was that aimed for?”

Kingston releases me, his movements swift, controlled violence simmering beneath his calm exterior. In one fluid motion, he reaches under his suit jacket, his fingers brushing aside the fine fabric to reveal a matte-black handgun holstered against his side.

He pulls it free, the weapon a natural extension of his hand.

His eyes scan the darkness for any sign of movement. The sight of him, armed and ready to kill, sends a chillthrough me. A reminder of exactly the type of man I married and the world I’ll be free from.

Screams erupt from inside the ballroom. Glass shatters. Tables overturn. The music cuts out, replaced by the frantic shuffle of panicked guests. The terrace floods with armed men—both his and mine—moving like a coordinated storm, weapons raised, bodies primed for a war.

My security team surrounds me first, forming a tight circle, their guns drawn. Kingston stands a few feet away, his expression carved from steel as his men move into position around him, too, shielding the powerful Viacava leader.

For a moment, we lock eyes, our bodies still thrumming with the aftershocks of lust and adrenaline. My dress glitters under the moonlight, but underneath, my veins are full of fire, pumped full of anger from the reality of what just happened.

Roman barrels through the O’Callaghan security like they’re furniture, one arm slicing the air as he parts the circle and strides straight to me.

“Livvie,” he snaps. “Are you hit?”

I blink. “No?—”

“Did you see where it came from?”

“No— Roman, I?—”

His free hand comes up, strong fingers brushing down my shivery skin, checking for blood or signs of an injury. His handgun points to the ground and his suited body shields mine completely.

He backs me up a little, edging me away from Kingston’s line of sight and lowers his voice, meant only for me now. “You really okay, Liv?”

I stiffen, heat crawling up the back of my neck. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

He doesn’t move because he doesn’t believe me. Why would he when he was the man in my bed months ago and now I’m eyeballs deep in this mess?

Roman’s jaw ticks, eyes locked on mine like he’s waiting for me to give him the green light to steal me away.

That’s never going to happen, so I take a step back. “Is my father okay?”