Bride By Debt – DC Beks

“I told you I was fine,” he says, walking to the dresser. “You were shot, Luca. That is not fine.” “I am still breathing.” He pulls out a fresh t-shirt, wincing slightly as he raises his arm. “And I have you to thank for that.” I watch him dress, hiding a smile. He is insufferable. Arrogant. Stubborn. But he is alive. He finishes buttoning his shirt and walks over to the bed. He leans down, bracing his hands on the mattress on either side of me. “What?” I ask. “Dante is making arrangements.

For Sergio and Rico. They will be sent home to Sicily. To their families.” “That’s good.” “And I found the bastard who shot me.” I freeze. “You did?” “Dante found him,” Luca says, his voice dropping, turning cold. “He was hiding in a safehouse in Brooklyn. We have him.” My eyes widen. “You have him?” “He is currently… explaining why he paid for the hit on me.” Luca stands up, his expression dark, terrifyingly blank. “When he is done explaining, I will dispose of him.” The casual way he talks about murder chills me.

“Luca…” “He killed my men.” He looks at me, his eyes intense. “There is no forgiveness for that.” I nod, not knowing what else to say. “Get some rest,” he says, turning away. “I’ll see you later.” I watch him walk to the door, his movements fluid despite the injury. He is dangerous. He is violent. But last night, holding him while his blood ran over my hands, I felt something else.

He is mine. And for better or worse, I am starting to realize, I am his. 1kitap1.com/en Luca It’s been one week since the hit. My shoulder is stiff, but the wound is closed. The stitches are neat, thanks to the steady, artistic hands of my wife. I stand on the master balcony, sipping an espresso, looking down at the gardens. Below, near the rose bushes, Mia is with Mrs. G. She carries a basket of laundry, not her own, but a bundle of towels she’s helping Mrs. G collect from the line.

She says something I can’t hear from this distance, and Mrs. G laughs. A real laugh. Not the polite, hollow laughs she gives her father. A sound that comes from her chest. I watch her hand a moment longer than I should. The memory of her sitting on my floor, trembling as she dug into my shoulder, flashes in my mind. The blood on her hands. The way she didn’t run.

No one is permitted to reproduce or transmit any part of this book through any means or form, be it electronic or mechanical. No one also has the right to store the information herein in a retrieval system, nor do they have the right to photocopy, record copies, scan parts of this document, etc., without the proper written permission of the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S.

copyright law. 1kitap1.com/en Contents Note 1. Mia 2. Luca 3. Mia 4. Luca 5. Mia 6. Luca 7. Mia 8. Luca 9. Mia 10. Luca 11. Mia 12. Luca 13. Mia 14. Luca 15. Mia 16. Luca 17. Mia 18. Luca 19. Mia 20. Luca 21. Mia 22. Luca 23. Mia 24. Mia 25. Luca 26. Mia 27. Luca 28. Mia 29. Luca 30. Mia 31. Luca 32. Mia Epilogue Fullpage image Atara Lorcan 1kitap1.com/en Note Hey, dear reader, Before you dive in, please note that Bride By Debt is a mafia romance filled with violence, obsession, morally gray characters, and dangerous devotion.

This is Mia and Luca’s story. Messy. Consuming. Addictive. He bought her to secure his empire, but never expected her to become the one thing capable of destroying him. Buckle in and enjoy the ride. 1kitap1.com/en 1 Mia “We’re all gathered here today to celebrate …” The organ music vibrates through the wooden pew beneath me.

My shoes pinch, each toe cramped in leather that never belonged to me. The dress— black, heavy, too long—trails on the floor. A veil covers my face, transforming the world into a hazy blur of shapes and colors. I remember my mother’s hands, how they felt when she used to braid my hair every night before bed. “You must carry yourself as a refined lady, Mia,” she’d say, her fingers working through my strands.

“Never let anyone catch you off guard, or make you small.” The priest drones on about redemption and peace. My mother would have laughed. She would have wanted music so loud it shook the walls of one of my father’s clubs, with people dancing and drinking to her memory instead of mourning in silence. Izzy squeezes my hand beside me.

Her palm is damp, her grip tight. She knew my mother, truly knew her. Not like these strangers filling every pew, their faces solemn with practiced grief. How did they all get here?

This is a short excerpt from the opening of “” by Unknown, quoted for review and introduction purposes. All rights belong to the copyright holders.

Book Information

• Unique ID: 24e8efcdd22399ff
• File Extension: .pdf
• File Size: 2,377,087 bytes (2.267 MB)
• Title: –
• Author: Unknown
• Pages: 401
• Language: English (en)

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• Estimated Reading Time: 395.39 minutes
• Total Words: 79,079
• Total Characters: 432,774
• Average Words per Page: 197.2
• Average Characters per Page: 1079.24

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