Emperor of Havoc: A Dark Forced Marriage Mafia Romance

I watch her as she slips through the darkness.

It’s what I’m best at: watching. Waiting for her. Looking from a distance.

She doesn’t know I’m here. She moves like a shadow herself, darting between the pools of light cast by the estate’s lamps, her movements quick.

Marianna.

She keeps calling herself by that other name. But it doesn’t matter.

She was never supposed to be his.

She was always mine.

My hands clench to fists at my sides as I watch her. She pauses by the gate, crouching to retrieve the key she thinks no one knows about. My lips curl into a faint smile.

Always so clever, my Marianna.

She’s graceful even in haste, her fingers deft as they work the lock. She steps through the gate, closing it quietly behind her before disappearing into the shadows beyond the estate.

I follow.

It’s easy. Always has been. No one sees me unless I want them to. It’s a skill I learned long ago—one that makes me good at what I do. She moves quickly, her steps light on the uneven pavement, but she’s not fast enough to lose me.

She doesn’t look back.

I stay close but not too close, my footsteps silent, my breathing quiet and steady. My hand curls around the small spray bottle in my pocket, fingers brushing the cool metal.

I don’t want to hurt her.

She wouldn’t understand, not yet. She’s confused, lost in a world that’s taken her memories and made her forget. She forgets me. Forgets what we mean to each other.

I just need to take her somewhere safe. Somewhere far away from all this.

If I can help her relax, she’ll remember.

She stops abruptly, her head tilting slightly. My breath catches and I freeze, my heart pounding in my chest.

“Marianna.”

Slowly, she turns.

Her gray eyes widen when they find me, the dim light catching their depths. Beautiful eyes. The kind of eyes that would make a man do anything.

She motions with her hands. My brow furrows. I’ve seen her do this before, make these strange movements, as if she’s trying to speak without using words.

I don’t understand: why won’t she just talk to me like she used to?

She stumbles back, but I’m faster. The bottle is already in my hand, the mist spraying in a fine, silent cloud before she can react.

Her body stiffens, her eyes locking on mine as the chemical takes hold.

“Hello, my love,” I whisper, catching her as her knees buckle.

She sags against me, her eyes rolling back. I cradle her, so fragile in my arms, my grip firm but gentle, as though she might shatter if I’m not careful.

For a moment I just hold her, my heart racing as I feel the warmth of her against me. She’s here. Finally, she’s here.

“I’ve missed you so much,” I murmur, brushing a strand of coppery blonde hair from her face. “But don’t worry. We’ll fix this. I’ll make you remember.”

Her eyes flutter, half-lidded and glassy, as she struggles to focus on me. She doesn’t speak but her fingers twitch, as though she’s trying to make those strange motions again.

“It’s okay, my love,” I croon, my voice low and soothing. “You don’t have to say anything. Just rest, Marianna. I’ll take care of everything.”

The streets are empty as I move quickly, carrying her in my arms. The city feels like it’s holding its breath, the silence pressing in around us as I make my way to the car parked just a block away.

No one sees us. No one stops us.

I place her gently in the back seat, adjusting her so she’s comfortable. Her head lolls a little to the side, her breathing shallow but steady. I pause, my fingers brushing her cheek as I take one last look at her before closing the door.

This is how it was always meant to be.

I slide into the driver’s seat, the engine purring to life. The road ahead is dark and empty, a perfect void leading us to the safety of the place I’ve prepared for her.

She doesn’t know it yet, but she’ll be grateful. She’ll remember. Then she’ll see.

This world doesn’t deserve her.

But I do.