Chapter 5 The Mafia King's Bride

• Cassandra Ashborn stood at the grand entrance of Castle Ashborn, her sharp gaze sweeping over the arriving guests. Dressed in an impeccably tailored suit, her crimson lips curled into a calculated smile as she addressed them.
• "I offer my greetings to the Castelos family," she purred, though her eyes flickered with mild disdain. "Though I don’t see Don Danny Castelos."
• "Yes, Danny is currently under the weather." Camile informed with shaking eyes as if she knows something.
• Her attention, however, quickly shifted, landing on Luxer.
• Tall, striking, with an air of quiet defiance, he was exactly the kind of man she enjoyed breaking.
• 'Ah… A new plaything.'
• Cassandra, the Consigliere of the Ashborn family and Cassian’s older sister, was a woman who ruled with the same ruthlessness as her brother, only her weapons were seduction and manipulation. And right now, Luxer had just become her newest target.
• "Please, come with me," she said smoothly, gesturing for them to follow.
• As Cassandra guided the group through the opulent halls of Castle Ashborn, Luxer’s smirk was laced with contempt.
• 'A mafia family living in a castle. How pretentious.'
• The Ashborns had taken the title of "Mafia King" far too literally. They draped themselves in luxury, masquerading as nobility while their empire thrived on blood and deceit. Vhalmora’s prosperity was a carefully crafted illusion, a gilded cage where the citizens obeyed out of fear, not loyalty.
• And yet, outside these walls?
• Drugs. Arms trafficking. Extortion. Assassinations.
• 'Hypocrites.' he thought.
• Luxer’s fingers twitched at his side. He despised them, not just for their cruelty, but for the way they played god, ruining lives while pretending to be saints.
• The massive doors to the throne room swung open, revealing a space that defied tradition, no throne, no ostentatious displays of medieval power. Instead, a sleek modern desk dominated the center, flanked by towering windows that bathed the room in cold, filtered light.
• And there, his back turned to them, sat Cassian Ashborn—his silhouette framed against the glass, his chair a seamless blend of modern authority and ancient dominance.
• Then—he turned.
• Luxia’s breath caught in her throat.
• "C-Cassian!?"
• Her voice trembled, cheeks flushing crimson, not just from shock, but from the sudden, sickening realization.
• He had lied to her.
• All those stolen moments, those tender dates and kisses, those whispered promises, none of it had been real.
• He wasn’t just a man who had swept her off her feet.
• He was Cassian Ashborn, the Don of the Ashborn famiglia.
• Her fiancé.
• Her captor.
• Her heart pounded, torn between embarrassment, betrayal, and fear.
• 'Why hadn’t he told me?'
• Had every word, every touch, every lingering glance been part of his game? These thoughts swirl in Luxia's mind, she was pale.
• Cassian’s lips curled into a slow, knowing smirk—as if he had been waiting for this exact reaction.
• "Surprised, my dear?" His voice was velvet and poison, the same tone that had once made her melt. Now, it sent a chill down her spine.
• Luxia’s fingers clenched at her sides. "You… You never told me."
• "Would you have believed me if I did?" he countered smoothly, rising from his seat. "Or would you have run after me, like what you did at the café?"
• The memory stung. She had tried to end things with him—only for him to walk away without a fight.
• Because he knew he had already won.
• Belle, standing beside Luxia, bristled. "You bastard—!"
• But before she could lunge forward, Viola’s hand clamped down on her wrist—a silent warning.
• Cassian’s gaze flicked to them, unimpressed, before settling back on Luxia.
• "This changes nothing, Luxia," he murmured, stepping closer. "You were always mine."
• Her breath hitched.
• Because the worst part?
• He was right.
• The engagement had been decided.
• The only difference now was that she knew exactly what kind of man she was marrying.
• Cassian’s smirk deepened as he reached out, his fingers brushing her cheek—a mockery of tenderness.
• "Welcome to Castle Ashborn, my future queen."
• And as Luxia stood there, trapped between his touch and the weight of her family’s survival, one truth became painfully clear:
• She was just another pawn in his empire.