30days with my ruthless Mafia husband

LIORA

"I take you to be my wife," his rich, deep, and utterly dangerous voice permeates the chill air in the Orthodox church as he maintains eye contact—with me. "To honor you, to protect you, and to walk with you—for life," he finalizes.

What about the promise to love me?

Scoff. Who am I kidding? I already know what I signed up for when I agreed to this—a cold-hearted monster with zero emotional feelings whatsoever.

So I shouldn't expect such sacred vows from him. After all, this is only temporary.

The priest motions to me.

I clear my throat and begin, a bit more steadily than before, as rehearsed. "And I take you..." I trail off, my gaze straying to the pair of imploring hazel eyes meeting mine from across the room.

I stare at my sister, who is standing beside our parents, a little too long, inwardly second-guessing my decision.

Her eyes are pleading—same as my parents'. They must sense my hesitation.

Not wanting them to panic, I redirect my gaze to the man in front of me and continue with my vows. "To be my... husband. To love you and stand by you, in peace and in storm." I finish, then swallow the lump lodged in my throat.

My heart skips a beat as I catch a fleeting glimpse of the corners of his lips curling into a slight lift, his eyes shimmering with mischief.

I shudder with disbelief. Did he... just smirk at me?

Before I can fully process my observation, the priest announces,

"I now pronounce you husband and wife." A gentle smile touches the priest's lips as he gestures toward him. "You may kiss your bride, Mr. Sorrentino."

My stomach knots.

This is the moment I've been dreading ever since I agreed to this impromptu wedding—kissing another man.

But I know I can't escape it now. It’s part of what I didn't exactly 'sign up' for.

He—my husband—advances toward me with imposing strides, exuding nothing but dominance. His large hand shoots up my neck, his thick fingers wrapping around it firmly, almost choking.

I exhale a breathy sigh, maintaining eye contact.

His grip on my neck tightens, accentuated by the proximity of his body against mine and the intoxicating scent of cedarwood, amber musk, and danger.

A map of shivers covers my skin as he says possessively, "You're now mine, mi esposa," before leaning in my face.

I shut my eyes and wait for it.

And without warning, his luscious lips crash down on mine—like lawless violence. I whimper at the intensity of it, overwhelmed by his savage claim over my mouth. I relish in the way he kisses me like a starved man.

'Relish'. Something I shouldn’t be doing, knowing full well that I’m betraying another man.

~

If someone had told me before now that I would be having a shotgun wedding with a total stranger tonight—a ruthless Mafia boss, for that matter—I’d say they’re full of shit.

Because, one, I despise the Mafias and their bloody world. And the second reason is because I’ve always believed I’d end up with my boyfriend of five years, Zayn Weston, whom I love very much.

However, that’s not the case... because here I am, losing myself in a passionate kiss with this total, hot stranger—my newly wedded husband.

Lorenzo Sorrentino.

Even though this isn’t what I initially wanted, for my family—for her—I would agree to anything.

Her.

I’m talking about my sister, Skylar Fletcher—the bride whose place I’m currently taking at the altar.

~~~~~~

AN HOUR EARLIER.

"I can't do it. I can't. You have to help me, please,"

"Calm down, Sky," I say to my sister, who keeps pacing the length of the bridal suite, her hand pushing against her brown hair, her face contorted with pure distress. She's one inch away from tears. "It's just a wedding," I try to pacify her.

"No, it's not!" she yells, whipping her gaze in my direction. Her voice softens. "Liora, you don't understand. I can't marry that man."

"Why not?" I can’t help but ask—because her wedding is happening in an hour or so.

"Why not?" Skylar huffs as she halts before me, scowling as if I’ve just dropped a blasphemous comment. "He's Mafia, Liora. And he’s everything wrong with the Mafia, let alone a husband. He's cold-hearted, dangerous, heartless, ruthless, cruel..."

"Okay, okay, enough with the labels. Just tell me what's going on," I say, looking up at her in confusion, seeking clarity.

My sister shakes her head vehemently. "No, I don’t think you understand, Liora."

I probably don’t, because I have no idea who the man she's marrying even is.

I just returned to New York after being away for two years to attend Sky’s impromptu wedding. I promised her I wouldn’t miss it for the world—after she emotionally blackmailed me, might I add. That's her forte.

Sky's voice pulls me from my thoughts as she explains, "He has these dark rumors circulating about his past. Very dark. They say he's a killer in the making... I don't want to get involved."

"What rumors?" I ask, my curiosity piqued.

She replies skeptically, "I don't know. I can't say for sure. All I know is that I can't marry him." She wipes her glassy eyes aggressively as tears leak from the corners.

I exhale heavily, feeling sorry for my little sister. "Okay. Well, since you can't call off the wedding now, given the circumstances, what do you want to do? And how can I help?"

She desperately supplies, "Take my place instead." The unwavering certainty in her voice makes me believe she's been contemplating this for some time.

"What?" I think I didn't hear her right.

She fidgets. "I know it's a crazy idea, but it's probably best if you do it."

I stand up and turn away from her. "Okay, Sky, you're clearly not thinking straight at the moment, and I'll spare you." I turn back and frown, "How can you even ask me that? I don't know this man."

"Neither do I!" she snaps back, frustration shooting through her veins.

I observe her and shrug. "Well, you know enough about him to assign him those labels. I don't. And I just got back to New York, remember? I have a whole life elsewhere—be rational."

"What difference does it make?" she whines.

"It makes all the difference, Sky. Are you crazy? You're asking me to throw my life away for a man I don't even know and a marriage I knew nothing about until yesterday. Girl, be for real."

A frown appears between her delicate brows, tugging at my heartstrings. I don't like seeing her like this.

I pause, exhale heavily, and speak calmly—reassuringly—because I sense I've hurt her with my response.

"Listen, Sky, I have a boyfriend I love. You know everything about my relationship with Zayn. Please don't ask me to do this."

"I don't have a choice, Liora. I have a life too. And Dad didn't exactly consider that when he offered me like some package deal to Mr. Sorrentino."

I reach for her hand gently. "Listen, I understand you're upset about that..."

"No, you don't," she snaps, backing away from me. "I don't want to hear it. You've done nothing but take everything from me."

My brows furrow.

Skylar sniffles, wipes her tears, and speaks resolutely, her eyes shining with determination. "Listen, you owe me, Liora. And it's either you help me out tonight by becoming his bride instead, or I tell Mom and Dad what happened ten years ago. What you did." She threatens.

My heart thuds.

I look at her, my lips slightly parted in disbelief. "What?"

I can't believe she's bringing this up again— for the thousandth time.

"How could you..." I mutter, but she cuts me off.

"It's your call, Liora," she says firmly. "Will you help me or not? That's the least you can do after all the shit you made me go through back then. I'm still traumatized to this day."

I swallow, then sigh, knowing she's right.

I do owe her my life, along with everything else she’s asked of me. Even though I've apologized numerous times and tried to make amends for my mistake from ten years ago, I realize now that Sky will never stop bringing it up—especially when she's desperate to persuade me to do something for her.

Relenting, I say, "Okay, I don’t appreciate being blackmailed into doing your bidding. A little more persuasion would have sufficed."

"We're running out of time," her expression softens, her voice remorseful. "And I’m sorry it had to come to this."

I look at her and swallow. As much as I’m pissed at her, I still can’t look past the fact that she's my sister, and it’s my duty to save her when she's in distress—just as I’m choosing to do tonight.

"You're my sister. It’s okay. Just promise me you'll make sure Zayn doesn’t catch wind of this. I want to be the one to explain what happened—tomorrow. He can't know I’m having a wedding with another man." I breathe out. "It will break him. Promise me, Sky."

She purses her lips and nods wearily. "Yeah, sure. I’ll do that."

"What?" I frown.

"What?" she frowns back.

"I don't like the way you sounded just now."

She releases an exasperated sound. "What do you want from me, Liora?"

"A firm statement. Give me your word that you won't tell him, and that you'll make sure he doesn't find out until I have the chance to tell him myself—tomorrow."

She offers, more firmly this time. "I won't."

"Okay, then..." air whooshes out from my nostrils as I seek confirmation. "It's just a month, right?"

Sky nods eagerly. "Yes. And you won't even notice how quickly time passes while you're there. He's mostly away on business trips, so you won't see him that often. You'll also have time to mingle—and even be with Zayn."

My heart bursts with excitement at the promise of that.

"Oh—okay, then." I sigh and chuckle skeptically. "I guess I'm doing this after all."

Skylar picks up the pristine white wedding dress from the high-end chair nearby and approaches me with a smile.

"Thanks, Liora. You have no idea how grateful I am to you."

We lock eyes, and I smile. "It's nothing. But I want to say, Sky, you seriously have to stop using that to get to me. What happened ten years ago was a mistake. One I’ve been trying to make amends for ever since..."

"I know—"

"No, you don't." I shake my head. "You keep trying to blackmail me with that every chance you get. It's not fair, you know. Promise me it will stop today."

She hesitates, then smiles. "I promise, Liora. I'm sorry. And thank you again," she says, and I pull her into a hug, her chin resting on my shoulder as my arms wrap around her.

Although I'm not thrilled about this, it's her problem. And I don't mind helping out if I can.

As I've been trained by my parents, Skylar's predicaments automatically become mine, and I must do everything in my power to resolve

them—always, even though it's not really the same with my own problems.

So... yeah, this is how I found myself at an altar an hour later, reciting sacred vows to a man I barely know anything about.

I just hope I'm not making a dead ass mistake with this fake marriage…