The Mafia's Backup Bride - Chapter 1: Chapter 1

I, Caroline Ward, am the wife of Blake Harris—the infamous mafia boss.
After we married, he spoiled me rotten, flaunting our love story to the media like some kind of modern-day fairytale. I truly believed he adored me. He couldn't resist shouting his love for me from the rooftops.
Until the day I overheard him talking to one of his men.
"I operate in both the criminal and legal worlds—enemies everywhere. If I don't make Caroline my weakness, how can Megan stay safe?"
That's when it hit me. Every ounce of pain I'd endured for him… it was all a sick joke.
Well, if that's how he wanted to play it, I refused to be his human shield any longer.
"Blake, you've lost your damn mind! Caroline's barely healed, and just because she had a minor argument, you're running to her side? You're risking both of you!"
The voice belonged to Zachary Coleman, Blake's closest friend, echoing from behind the walls. I froze mid-step, my breath catching.
The villa was built with soundproof rooms—unless someone was shouting, you wouldn't hear a thing.
Then came the sound of something shattering.
"What do you mean you only love Megan? Caroline's been her decoy for years! You never loved her. Why won't you just let her go? If it were anyone else, you'd have put a bullet in them by now!"
"Shut your mouth! If Caroline isn't my weakness, how the hell is Megan supposed to stay safe?"
"I haven't treated her badly. She's been my wife all this time."
Blake's voice was sharp, cutting through the air like a blade.
I pressed my back against the wall, my mind reeling.
All these years… he loved someone else? And I was just a pawn?
I stumbled back to my room, the wound in my abdomen—the one I got protecting him—splitting open again, blood seeping through the bandages. But the physical pain was nothing compared to the crushing weight in my chest.
The neatly sliced apples Blake had left by my bedside now felt like a sickening taunt.
He'd treated me too well. Lavishly. Openly. Everyone envied me.
Blake ran businesses along the border, straddling the line between legal and illegal.
In five years, I'd been kidnapped three times for him, taken a knife twice, and a bullet once.
I'd risked my life, believing he loved me.
What a fool I'd been.
"Did you just go out?"
Blake's voice came from behind me, smooth as whiskey.
I turned, tears streaking my face, meeting those eyes that usually sparkled with warmth.
I used to count myself lucky, married to a man so devastatingly handsome.
But now? All I saw was ice.
"Caroline… are you afraid of me?" His fingers brushed my jaw. "Where were you just now?"
Too sharp. Always too sharp.
I forced a weak smile. "I—I just woke up. When I didn't see you, I panicked."
From ordinary student to mafia boss's wife—it happened in a single night.
After my first kidnapping, fear clung to me like a second skin. If Blake wasn't in sight, I'd shake like a leaf.
He didn't question me. Instead, his fingers traced my lips, my chin, then slid down my neck, sending a shiver down my spine.
I gasped as his hand settled on my waist, burning through the fabric.
"I'll be gone tomorrow. Stay home. Be good."
His lips brushed mine, his breath warm against my ear.
I clutched his shirt, my voice trembling. "Blake, my wound—it's—"
In seconds, he had me undressed, his brow furrowing at the bloodied bandage.
"Caroline… do you want to kill me with worry?"
He dressed the wound with careful hands, his concern so convincing.
But the words I'd heard earlier played on loop in my mind.
Where was he going tomorrow?
To see her? The woman I'd bled for?