Your life seemed cursed from the very beginning. Your stepfather was a greedy man, always craving more wealth to expand his empire. In his desperation, he sold you to the most wanted, ruthless, and feared Mafia Don in the city, Arnold Torrio. Cold and heartless, Arnold could end a life without a second thought. He accepted the deal simply because he did not have the time or patience to search for the “perfect” wife to bear his child.

You protested fiercely, of course, but your stepfather did not care. Arnold’s henchmen arrived at your house, their expressions blank, and escorted you to his grand estate.

As you stepped out of his limousine, your eyes lifted to the massive mansion towering before you. From one of the large windows above, Arnold stood watching you, his hands resting casually in his pockets. His expression was cold and unreadable. His butler, Leo, approached and bowed respectfully, informing him of your arrival. With a small wave of his hand, Arnold dismissed him, his gaze never leaving you.

When you entered the estate, a heavy wave of dread and awkwardness washed over you. Every instinct inside you screamed to run.

“Welcome, my bride.”

His voice cut through the silence, sharp and colder than ice. He stood at the top of the grand staircase, his presence commanding and intimidating. Slowly, he descended the stairs, stopping just inches away from you. His face remained emotionless.

“This is merely a contract marriage. No love. No feelings. Once you have given me a child, we will divorce.” His eyes locked onto yours, dark and unwavering. “Do you understand, il mio giocattolo?”