THE MAFIA’S MISTAKEN BRIDE

Jasmine’s POV

Everything about this man screams danger and it makes fear slither through me. I always knew he was dangerous. He looked dangerous but I never thought he would be as bad as ordering one of his men to kill someone.

It makes me wonder what kind of life I have gotten myself into.

Crying wasn’t something I planned. In fact, I vowed never to cry about my situation ever again but I could help the fear and sadness gnawing at my heart. Besides, I wanted to let it out just so he can change his mind about sleeping with me.

That is the height of it.

I can’t let this happen.

I have always kept my virginity because I wanted it to be with the right man and at the right time.

I once dated but it was a short relationship that only lasted for three months. We broke things off when it was obvious he just wanted to get into my pants. I wasn’t ready. I didn’t even feel the need to give him my body.

I didn’t regret breaking up with him but ever since, I haven’t been in any other relationship. I don’t know if the problem is from me or the men.

The type of men who are courageous enough to approach me are bad men. Probably because of where I used to work.

Drunk men.

Assassins.

Kidnappers or even armed robbers.

They don’t hide what they do and they are always on the run whenever the police are within the neighborhood.

That was one of the reasons why I wanted a new life. Somewhere different.

Wanting a new life meant having another job which never got to my hands. Having another job better than the one I was doing meant things would change for the better but they were all wishes and dreams.

Nothing happened for years.Belongs to (N)ôvel/Drama.Org.

I was stuck there for years, managing to escape being raped but unable to escape being ogled and approached by those men.

I knew I told Mr. Moore that I was going to begin to act like Andre which was why I pulled that stunt at the party just to spite him. I thought he was going to punish me or scold me but he isn’t doing any.

Or is this his way of punishing me? Does he want to force himself on me because of what I did earlier?

He spends more than twenty minutes in the bathroom before coming out, forcing me to shut my eyes, pretending to be asleep.

What do I do if he forces himself on me? Is there a weapon close by that I can use to defend myself? Should I go to the police first thing in the morning to report being mistaken for someone else, kidnapped and being raped?

Is it safe for me? Will the police believe me?

Xavier is more powerful than I think. There is no wonder why all those men were dressed in black regarding him as the boss.

The boss of what exactly?

Does he own a company where they work? If he is a CEO, then why is he killing someone?

He doesn’t seem like a police officer either. Law agents would never do something against the law since they know the consequences of their actions.

Who the hell is this man?

“I know you are not sleeping so quit pretending and get changed”, his voice is near, making chills run down my spine.

Instantly, I open my eyes to see him peering down at me. His expression is unreadable and I can’t seem to figure out what he is thinking.

Should I beg him not to rape me? Should I tell him I am a virgin? Should I tell him to give me more time to adjust to this new life and get myself mentally prepared for the consummation of our marriage?

Words fail me. My voice is out too.

I only sit up in the massive bed that can accommodate four people at a time, glancing up at him as he leans on the closet, shirtless, looking hot as water drips from his hair and chest, his eyes dark as always.

There is a towel wrapped around his waist and his arms are folded across his bosom as he studies me.

“Xavier…”, I begin eventually, gulping at intervals and praying for a miracle so I can voice out the exact thing in my mind. “Can you please let me be for tonight?”

He does not say anything and it makes me wonder why he keeps ignoring all my questions tonight.

This was the same thing he did before going to the bathroom to shower. Now he is doing it again. Ignoring me but watching me as though I am not saying anything.

Laughter cracks up from him and I look up sharply in surprise.

“What the hell is going through that little mind of yours?” he demands, still laughing. I have never seen him laugh this way. The other day, when I stumbled upon him totally naked in this same room, when he laughed, it was filled with sheer mockery of me but tonight, he seems really amused.

“When I said we were sleeping together, I didn’t mean that we would have sex. We are going to sleep on the same bed, aren’t we?”

Where the hell is this coming from? Did he change his mind? I was so sure I heard him say sleep together but what my mind processed was sex. Did I misinterpret his statement?

I blink twice as his laughter dies down, and then he begins to approach me.

I grip the bedspread, afraid he is coming for me now and what he said minutes ago is something he didn’t mean.

He is going to rape me. He will force himself on me. I am going to lose my virginity tonight in the most brutal way.

When he is close, he signals to me to rise and I do that immediately, shivering from within. He grabs me, not too hard, making me lock eyes with him.

“I might be all bad but I don’t rape or maltreat women, ok?”

Is that a question or a statement?

To be honest, something melts inside of me. It feels like a certain percentage of the fear I harbor for him has dissolved.

The loud pounding of my heart which I can literally hear has dropped too, filling me with the highest peak of curiosity.

If he doesn’t maltreat women, who does he maltreat then? Does that mean he is not a bad man like I assumed? Does it mean how he has been treating me for days is not maltreatment in his own dictionary?

“Who do you maltreat?” I finally find my voice but the way it comes out surprises the hell out of me. I didn’t mean to ask that out and I didn’t mean for it to come out in a whisper.

He raises a brow, surprised at my question, and then he shrugs. “What do you think?”

He turns back on his heels, letting go of my jaw.

“Bad people?” I ask, then quickly rephrase. “Bad men?”

He whirls around immediately, slightly pleased at my answer. He nods.

I want to ask him another question but I am afraid it will be too much for a day. What exactly is his own category of bad men?

Because they are bad doesn’t mean they should be killed. How bad are these men? Do they kill too? Should I still be scared of him or not?

He is really unpredictable and now I don’t even know what else to think.

He strolls to the closet, opens it and pulls out a pair of short pants and light sleepwear. “Go take a shower, it’s late already. You should go to bed as early as you can. You and I will be going out tomorrow.”

I nod even when I know he isn’t seeing me because his back is to me. I begin to walk towards the bathroom, my mind in turmoil, various questions popping around my head with no single answer.

I wonder where we are going tomorrow. Maybe he wants to introduce me to his parents. I thought he was going to do that today but he didn’t.

Is he not on good terms with his parents? Is that woman from earlier not his mother or relative? What about that young lady who wouldn’t stop glaring me? Do those men work for him in his company? What type of company does he run?

I get to the bathroom door and grab the door handle to go in when something pops up in my head suddenly.

From nowhere.

An idea of what type of person he might be.

I have read things like this in books. Dark and dangerous romantic books of rich spoiled brats and their abductors.

Since he is not a kidnapper obviously, then this must be it.

Without thinking, I twirl back sharply and blurt out. “Are you in the Mafia?”

The moment the words roll out of my mouth, I begin to regret it because his face turns rigid and his eyes become darker, making me drop my gaze, mutter a low apology and run into the bathroom.