The Mafia Boss's Pet Wife

**Sophia**

The next morning, the soft sunlight seeped through the heavy curtains, painting the room in warm, golden hues. The warmth of the sheets around me felt strange, almost comforting. For a brief moment, I forgot where I was forgot who was lying beside me. But reality struck like a blow, and a weight settled on my chest as I remembered everything that had happened.

Beside me, he was still asleep, his face relaxed, free from the usual trace of control and coldness. There, he looked almost vulnerable, but I knew well that it was only a mask he wore to hide his cruelty. What had I done? I felt a whirlwind of emotions, from regret to anger, but deep down there was also a confusing feeling I didn't want to admit: a flicker of attraction, a spark of curiosity about him that disturbed me.

Quietly, I tried to get out of bed, but his eyes slowly opened, and he watched me with a steady gaze.

"There's no need to rush, Sophia," he said, his voice still marked by sleep. "You're exactly where you're meant to be."

The possessive tone made me shiver. I sat on the edge of the bed, clutching the sheet against my body, as if it could protect some part of me he hadn't yet taken.

"I... I don't know what I'm doing here," I murmured, trying to sound firmer than I actually felt.

He laughed softly, getting up and adjusting the shirt draped over the chair. "Yes, you do. You just don't want to admit it." He came closer, his predatory gaze returning. "Last night, you gave me your trust. And I expect you to understand that's not something I take lightly."

"That was... a mistake," I said, my voice barely a whisper, but he shook his head.

"It was a choice," he corrected, placing a hand on my face, his cold fingers contrasting with my warm skin. "And choices have consequences, Sophia."

Before I could respond, he stepped away, heading toward the door. "Get dressed," he ordered without even looking back. "We have a lot to discuss."

As soon as he left, I allowed myself to take a deep breath, trying to control the anguish rising within me. Last night, a part of me wanted to believe there was something human in him, a glimmer of kindness that could make me see him differently. But now, in the daylight, I understood the error of that thought.

I dressed slowly, still feeling the weight of the previous night in every fiber of my being. I knew he was right about one thing: I had made a choice, even if part of me was driven by impulse. But I needed to find a way to protect myself, to regain some control over my life before he broke me completely.

When I finished, I went downstairs to the grand hall where he was waiting. He stood near the window, watching the garden outside as if lost in thought. Hearing my footsteps, he turned and motioned for me to approach.

"I hope you now understand the seriousness of your situation, Sophia," he began, his tone unforgiving. "I can give you a comfortable life here. But you must understand that this comfort comes with obligations." "Obligations?" I asked, feeling the anger burn in my chest. "You want to keep me here as your prisoner? As a puppet for your pleasure?"

He just smiled, showing no trace of remorse in his gaze. "I want you by my side. In return, I'll give you everything you desire. But it's an exchange, Sophia. And you don't have much choice."

Each of his words made me feel more determined. I knew that to gain any kind of freedom, I would have to play by his rules... for now. I had to be careful, strategic. He might hold the power now, but I wouldn't give up so easily. "And if I agree... what happens to me?" I asked, choosing my words cautiously.

He approached me again, his eyes studying me with a disturbing intensity. "If you agree, you'll live a life many would envy. Safe, comfortable, and by the side of someone who knows what he wants and isn't afraid to take it." He ran his hand over my face, a strange touch, a blend of affection and possession. "But if you defy me, things could change drastically."

I looked at him, my eyes steady. "And what if I don't want just to survive?" I asked, letting the frustration show in my voice.NôvelDrama.Org owns all content.

He laughed, a cold sound that echoed through the room. "Then learn to want. It will be better for both of us."

I knew that, for now, openly resisting would only bring more suffering. But, deep down, a rebellious spark still burned. I knew the road ahead would be difficult, but I also knew that, at the right moment, I would find a way out of this nightmare. Then, after he left me alone, an old memory surfaced, catching me by surprise. My stepfather's face appeared in my mind, cold, full of disdain. I remembered my youth, all the years I lived under his roof, surrounded by quiet control and harsh words that gradually broke me inside.

He always said I was worthless, that I had no future, and I grew up questioning if that was true. For a long time, I believed being worthy of affection or respect was beyond my reach. It felt like, now, everything happening was a repeat of that control, but now on a deeper, more disturbing level.

But then, I thought that maybe, just maybe, this new life could be better than the previous one. Maybe he, with all his power and control, could still give me more than the emptiness and humiliations I endured with my stepfather. A part of me hated to admit this, but a practical coldness told me I could survive — perhaps even become stronger - if I played my cards right.

I hated myself for thinking this, but what else could I do?