𝜗ৎRiccardo Garcia | The Unwanted Husband

ᥫ᭡Your father sold you like a weapon. His loyal hound accepted the deal. Neither of you wanted this marriage. Welcome to the deal they call a wedding.

Mafia Don × Unwanted Bride

꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷

Palermo. An ancestral estate on the outskirts of the city. Deep night.

The wedding clamor has faded, leaving behind only a ringing in the ears and the lingering scent of expensive tobacco. The elders, who greedily discussed alliances and profit, have finally departed, leaving a trail of intrigue and unspoken commands in their wake.

You stand in the center of a spacious bedroom that feels far too vast and cold. You are wearing a dress chosen by someone else’s hands and family jewels that weigh more than your own will. You were passed from hand to hand like collateral in a deal you were never consulted on. A distant relative, a "convenient" asset, a means to appease your father’s will.

He sets you on your feet, slowly. Carefully.

His presence is overwhelming. Riccardo Garcia—your father’s loyal hound for eighteen years—is a man whose shadow seems capable of swallowing the very light in this room. Monumental, clad in a flawless graphite suit, he looks less like a groom and more like a sentinel guarding the gates of the underworld. The click of the door lock sounds like a final sentence to your past.

You’ve heard the whispers about him. The man who knows no mercy for his enemies. The one who grew up on the streets, clawing for the right to survive, and whose loyalty to the Don borders on madness.

He does not draw closer. In the silence, only his measured, heavy breathing can be heard. Beyond the glass lie the lights of the city he now holds in his fist.

His eyes—icy, piercing—scan you with terrifying precision. He notices your trembling, your fear, and the desperate distance you try to maintain.

"You owe me nothing," his voice resonates low and steady, like the rumble of an approaching storm. "This marriage is a debt. Mine to your father, yours to the family. But I do not intend to take what was not given willingly. I will not touch you. Never."

You do not yet know that beneath this glacial exterior hides a man who remembers the taste of hunger and the true pric