The Mafia Boss's Pet Wife

Sophia

The next few days felt like a blur, each one dragging on longer than the last. It was as though I were trapped in a perpetual state of numbness, stuck in a world where everything around me felt distorted. My mind raced, but my body refused to react. Nathan's presence was like a storm-constant, unyielding, and impossible to ignore. He had become a shadow in every room I entered, a weight on my chest that I couldn't shake.

But more than that, it was the quiet that suffocated me. He didn't need to say much. His actions spoke louder than any words ever could. He didn't have to tell me that I belonged to him. I could feel it in every glance, every movement. He owned me in ways I didn't even understand, ways that made me feel both terrified and alive.

I spent my days pretending that everything was normal, that nothing had changed between us. I went through the motions-eating, sleeping, dressing, as though the world hadn't tilted under my feet. But the truth was, I wasn't the same. I wasn't the girl who walked into this house weeks ago, full of hope and resistance. I had been reshaped, molded into someone I didn't recognize.

I was his. Whether I wanted to admit it or not.

The echo of his voice, the way it haunted my thoughts, followed me like a ghost. You're mine. The words reverberated in my mind, reverberating against the fragile walls I had built around myself. The more I resisted, the tighter he seemed to pull me in.

I couldn't tell if I hated him or if I hated myself more for letting him get under my skin. He had turned every emotion inside out, every feeling I had twisted until it was no longer my own.

And now, I was questioning everything. The lies we told ourselves, the lies I had believed to protect myself from the truth. Nathan wasn't just some man in my life. He was my past, my present, and maybe even my future. And that terrified me. I walked into the living room, where he was seated, his eyes fixed on a book in his hands. His posture was relaxed, but there was something predatory about the way he watched me, the way he seemed to always be waiting for me to make the first move. To break.

I hated the way he looked at me.

"You're not looking too good," Nathan remarked, his voice dripping with an amusement that sent a chill down my spine. "I thought you'd be more resilient."

I froze at his words, my heart lurching in my chest. He knew me too well, or at least, he thought he did.

"I'm fine," I muttered, my tone dismissive. I was lying. I had become an expert at it. But Nathan wasn't fooled.

"You don't fool me, Sophia," he said, his gaze narrowing. "I can see it in your eyes. You're not fine. You're breaking. And you know why? Because you belong to me." His words cut through the air like a knife, each syllable piercing the fragile shell I had left around myself. I wanted to yell at him, to tell him he was wrong. But I couldn't. There was nothing I could say.

"You're not my owner," I finally managed, my voice quiet but firm, even if I didn't believe it myself. "You don't get to control me."

Nathan's lips twisted into a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Is that what you think? You really believe you're free of me? That you can walk away and never look back? You think you can just slip away into the night and pretend this doesn't exist?"

I didn't know what to say. His words struck too close to the truth. You're not free, he had said. And it haunted me, gnawing at the edges of my thoughts. Could I escape him? Could I ever truly escape the hold he had on me?

I tried to step back, but Nathan was already on his feet, his presence closing in on me like a wildfire. His movements were slow, deliberate, like a predator circling its prey.

"You can keep running, Sophia. But you'll never be able to hide from what you are. You'll never be able to hide from me," he whispered, his breath warm against my ear.

I took a step back, my pulse racing, but I couldn't get far. He always seemed to be right there, lurking, waiting for me to crack. I couldn't escape the pull of him, and I knew it. No matter how hard I tried to pretend otherwise, I was already lost. "Stop," I whispered, barely able to breathe. "I can't-"Text © owned by NôvelDrama.Org.

Before I could finish the sentence, his hand shot out, grabbing my wrist with a force that sent a shockwave of panic through my veins. His grip tightened, and I felt a flicker of resistance stir within me, but it was weak-too weak to break free. "You think you can run, but you can't," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "You think you're in control, but I've already chosen you. And there's no going back. You're mine now."

I wanted to scream, to break free, but his words silenced me. He was right. I wasn't in control. I hadn't been in control for a long time.

Nathan had taken everything from me, piece by piece, and now I was left with nothing but the pieces he had given me to hold on to.

"I hate you," I managed to choke out, my voice raw, barely a whisper.

Nathan's eyes flashed, and for a moment, I thought he might actually punish me for the words I had dared to say. But instead, his grip loosened, and he stepped back, a smirk curling at the corner of his lips.

"I know you do," he said, his voice soft but filled with that unmistakable edge. "But it doesn't change anything. You're still mine."

I wanted to scream, to run, to fight, but I was paralyzed by the realization that he was right. No matter how much I hated it, I couldn't escape.

I belonged to him.