The Mafia Don Killed My Groom Then Buried Me Alive Chapter 03
Bald and Bleeding
They freeze.
Selene tilts her head, eyes narrowed.
“Say that again.
You’re what?”
I straighten up.
“I said I’m his wife.
You’re just a stand-in he picked because you look like me.
When Adrian finds out you touched me, you’re all dead.”
I really thought that would end it.
Instead, they burst out laughing.
All four of them, howling like I’d told the funniest joke of the century.
“Oh, shit, this bitch is delusional!”
“She looks kinda like Selene, so now she thinks she’s Mrs.
Vitale?
Girl, you need meds.”
“Everyone in this city knows Adrian is obsessed with Selene.
And you — some rat squatting in an empty wing — you’re his wife?
You must have a death wish.”
Selene’s smile turns razor-sharp.
“You know, I thought you were smart.
Sneaking in here, using my face to get close to him — I figured you had a plan.
But you’re just a moron.”
“I’ve been with Adrian for months.
Nobody — nobody — has ever mentioned a wife.
You think I wouldn’t know?
You think Mrs.Vitale would be rotting alone in this dump nobody’s allowed to enter?”
She snaps her fingers.
“Strip her Every stitch.”
Her friends jump on me again.
They don’t know.
Nobody in the compound is allowed to mention me.
Because I refused him.
Refused the ring, refused the bed, refused to play wife.
Adrian went nuclear.
Locked me in the West Wing and made my name a banned word.
That’s why nobody knows my face.
Because Adrian owns me like a private painting he refuses to hang in public.
Anyone who looked at me too long got their eyes carved out.
All the security that kept me safe — now it’s the exact reason Selene doesn’t believe me.
They tear my dress open.
“I really am his wife!
Ask him!” I scream.
“ASK HIM!”
That just makes them wilder.
One of them starts slapping me across the mouth over and over.
“Shut up, you lying little whore!
We’re gonna beat the crazy right out of you!”
My face swells up in seconds.
My cheeks feel like raw meat.
My hair is falling in my eyes, my dress hanging in strips, everything on display.
Selene stares at me.
Her eyes go cold.
“Her hair’s disgusting.
Shave it.”
One of her friends grabs kitchen shears.
She hacks at my scalp like she’s pruning a bush.
Chunks of hair hit the ground.
The blades slice my skin.
I can feel blood dripping down my neck.
When she’s done, my head is a bloody mess of stubble and gashes.
Selene claps her hands.
Actually claps.
“HA!
Let’s see you seduce my man now, baldy!”
Her friends howl with her, high-fiving.
I stare up at them, shaking, whole body trembling with rage.
“You’re going to regret this.”
Three years.
Three years locked up like a caged animal.
Three years of Adrian’s obsession squeezing the life out of me.
All that rage I’ve been swallowing — it snaps.
Selene walks over and grinds her heel into my cheek.
“Still talking?
Aw, sweetie.
If your mouth can’t say something nice, maybe it shouldn’t say anything at all.”
She looks over her shoulder.
“Cut this bitch’s tongue out.”
—
