"Miss, stop!"
Bang!
A warning shot rang through the forest trail, sharp and terrifying. After a long and frantic chase, her steps finally faltered. The beautiful woman being pursued came to a sudden halt; her bare feet, now bloodied and bruised, trembled as they pressed against the rocky dirt path. Scratches and dried blood lined her ankles and shins.
Her seductive outfit—short, silky, and meant for a warm evening indoors—was completely inappropriate for the woods. Her disheveled hair and torn clothing only added to the wild desperation etched on her face.
But no matter how appealing she looked, none of the men pursuing her dared to touch her. Not one. No matter their desire, they weren't foolish enough to even think about laying hands on her. Because she belonged to Mateo Lousie.
The most feared Mafia boss in all of America.
"What?! You want to arrest me, huh?! Go ahead! Do you think I'm scared? Tell your boss I'm not coming back! He thinks I'm some caged animal that he can just feed and control?! I'm Alice Romano! I was born free—and I will die free!"
She was shaking, not from fear, but rage.
"—a prisoner trapped inside that gilded mansion owned by Mateo Lousie!" she finished with a scream, chest heaving. From the look of her, you could almost see black smoke rising above her head, steam escaping from her ears.
It had only been a week.
One week since she became the legal wife of the most ruthless mafia leader in the country. And in that week, she had lost everything—her freedom, her space, her choices. Mateo had her under constant surveillance. Even now, when she tried to run, she was chased down like a wild animal.
"Miss, please… don't make the boss angrier than he already is. Cooperate. Once we get you home, you can talk to him. Please, let's just go back. Your feet…" the guard glanced down at her injured legs, "…you're bleeding. He'll be furious if he sees you like this."
Alice glared at him.
"Do you think I care?!" she barked. Then she did something childish—yet somehow perfectly Alice. She stuck her tongue out at the man, mocking him with fire in her eyes.
The man sighed. Of course, she had to be difficult.
"Sir, your wife is being uncooperative," he said into his comms.
"Shoot her legs," came the cold voice over the radio.
The moment that sentence echoed, a shot fired.
The bullet grazed her leg.
"AHHH!!"
She screamed and collapsed, her leg buckling beneath her. Pain burst through her like lightning, and she grabbed at her calf as blood began to pool beneath her.
"I swear to God—YOU'LL PAY FOR THIS!" she sobbed, eyes brimming with tears of pain and fury. "I'll burn down every single one of his damn weapons! I'll make sure he suffers!"
Later that night…
The private doctor who had treated her stood up after finishing the emergency stitching. "It's done, sir," she said quietly before leaving the room.
Now only two people remained.
Alice lay in bed, sweat-drenched, leg bandaged tightly, chest heaving. The painkillers hadn't kicked in yet. Her breathing was erratic, but nothing compared to the sheer weight of his presence in the room.
Mateo Lousie.
Tall, broad-shouldered, eyes cold as Arctic ice. He stood silently by the wall, watching her like a hunter who'd just brought down his prey.
"Try it again," he said flatly, "and next time… your head will be the target."
Alice's jaw clenched. She forced herself to sit up, even though the pain in her leg screamed against it.
"You're a monster," she spat. "A cruel, heartless monster! This marriage? It's a sham! I didn't ask for this! Damn it, I didn't even have a choice!"
Tears filled her eyes, but she refused to let them fall.
"You sold me like cattle, Dad! May you rot in your grave!"
Her voice cracked as the name of her late father escaped her lips. That man—Jacob Romano—had made a deal with Mateo's family. A final transaction before his death. Alice, his only legitimate daughter, was the price.
She had once dreamt of love. Of a partner who was tender, loyal, someone who would care for her, grow old with her. Someone who would read books, cook meals, kiss her forehead, and maybe surprise her with flowers.
Not this. Not this man who shot her. Not this house that felt like a golden cage.
Mateo stepped closer.
"Don't even think about moving. That wound is fresh. If you tear the stitches, you'll regret it. The servants will take care of you… if you behave. But I hate disobedience, Alice."
He turned on his heel and left the room without another word.
Alice stared at the closed door, heart racing.
"I HATE YOU, MATEO LOUSIE!!" she screamed with all the fury she had left. But he was gone.
---
Somewhere else in the mansion, Mateo sat alone in his underground office.
"Sir," said Pedro, his loyal right-hand man. "There's a meeting tonight. Alessandro's men are demanding their share of the last shipment."
Mateo didn't even look up. He lit a cigarette and stared at the maps and weapons laid out before him.
"What do I gain from meeting them? Nothing. The deal's closed. The goods are gone. They get nothing more. If they want to fight over scraps—let them."
Pedro exhaled slowly.
"They're getting impatient. Might cause trouble if you don't show."
Mateo finally looked up. "Handle it. Tell them I'm not coming. I have more important matters to deal with."
With that, he crushed the cigarette under his boot and stood up, towering.
Pedro sighed. He knew what this meant.
More time spent dealing with Alice.
Truth be told, he didn't know which job was harder: managing violent arms dealers—or keeping Mateo's wild, untamed wife under control.
"Such a damn hassle," he muttered under his breath as he followed Mateo out the door.
The night was far from over.