A gathering was summoned in the main hall of the prisoners. The corner of the deadliest ones—the men clothed in black—stood in silence, their faces carved with contempt and hate. No one was smiling.
Why would they? When you live the most miserable life imaginable and then have to look at Nolan and Xavier—the two men who were meant to rot in the same hell as them, yet never once behaved like prisoners.
Now what was the calling about?
Some had been dragged from their sleep, disturbed and irritated, but none dared to voice it since it was Xavier who had summoned them. Speaking their minds would result in losing their heads, and none of them were ready for such an inconvenience.
Nolan noticed the scowls from the lot of animals that called themselves humans and smirked. It wasn't like they could do anything about it. Better strike their nerves now that he wouldn't be around much longer.
Xavier was on his way, but since he wasn't there yet, Nolan decided to make them angrier.
"Better fix those looks, bunch of pussies, before Xavier graces your presence—unless you're all ready to be sent back to your empires as trophies. And by trophies, I mean your heads."
One by one, the frowns of displeasure shifted into alarm when heavy footsteps thudded in front of them.
Now that was Xavier.
No longer hiding behind a silly mask, his eyes burned with relentless rage, keeping them all on edge.
As if rehearsed, each of them straightened up, forcing their expressions blank, making sure none of them wore a frown that might anger the devil himself.
Xavier, in his usual nonchalant manner, kept his hands tucked in his pockets. He spared the useless men barely a glance before clearing his throat.
"I'm done with my visit, so I'm returning for my wedding."
The air in the hall changed instantly. Everyone stared at Xavier Devereaux, stunned beyond words.
A wedding was the last thing any of them expected. And who could the lucky bride be—or the cursed one? Because being chosen by Xavier was practically a death sentence. A powerful one. His image in the room and on the field was well known, and the number of women who had landed in his bed was proof enough of it. But now he had chosen someone who would suffer under such a cruel being.
Xavier saw their expressions and knew exactly what was running through those empty vessels they called minds. But what did he care? He didn't give a fuck. On a normal day, he would have washed those looks away with acid. But today was his happy day, so he would let it slide.
"Guess who the bride is?" Xavier asked, almost as if he cared for their opinions.
He didn't wait for an answer. With a bored sneer, he turned and headed for the door. Then, before their bulging eyes, he walked smoothly to the entrance and grabbed the shivering figure standing there.
The man was fully dressed, his overflowing brunette hair falling softly, his beautiful purple eyes radiating and amplifying his ethereal beauty.
His presence seemed to glow. His pheromones spread in the air, and the men almost lost control over the sweet citrus scent. Their gazes turned predatory, highlighting how badly they wanted to devour him.
But Xavier, guiding him like a lion guarding its cub, let out a near feral growl.
They immediately stepped back, forcing their expressions neutral, swallowing hard as they endured the intoxicating scent choking their lungs.
Xavier smiled.
It was far from genuine. It looked more like he was enjoying their suffering—relishing the sight of them at their most vulnerable.
"So you've seen him now. This beauty here will be the clan Donna by the end of today. And after that, he'll visit you all to see if that look will still be there."
He eyed them and grinned.
The shock was still palpable.
A man becoming the new Donna would shake the entire underworld.
They knew their Mafia lord was insane—but not to this level. To think of the war that would break out. Nothing would remain at peace. And such a fragile being wouldn't even last a week in that world. Not with the enemies waiting to strike. Xavier's rivals had long waited for him to fall into a pit.
And now he had.
Everything would scatter.
Unfortunately, they were too cowardly to say it to his face and could only gloat silently at him—and at the faggot of a bride he had chosen.
Asher, standing between the two men, could only fidget with his shirt, refusing to lift his head and meet those murderous eyes. He had agreed, after all. He had rushed after Xavier because the truth was simple—alone, he wouldn't last a day in such an establishment.
He was always an indoor person. Not an extrovert. He loved silence more than anything and had lived a sheltered life.
So this was all too much.
But if he wanted to see another day, he had to take this path.
Marriage was already a huge step. Marriage to a Mafia demon? That was the biggest life-altering decision imaginable. But jumping into the pan felt better than landing directly in the fire.
So he signed the contract.
That was his only hope.
He could only pray for salvation—that he wouldn't perish there. But from what he had heard about Mafia clans, and especially the one he was entering, praying not to perish felt like a delusion.
"So nothing to say, suckers? I expected that. So this is goodbye. It was nice watching you lick my ass and feet."
Xavier spoke maliciously before turning toward the door. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small wrapped box, handing it to Asher with a wink.
Confused, Asher took the box and held it tightly, following the man in the black leather jacket who now refused to speak to him.
Xavier walked ahead, discussing something with the prison official in charge, while Asher remained behind with Nolan.
Nolan stepped closer and whispered in his ear.
"I know you think you've got your hands over him, but I won't allow that. I'll find that drug you gave him—the one that made him choose you. This isn't my boss. He wouldn't act this way because of a man. But we shall see."
Asher blinked, perplexed.
Drug? What the fuck was he talking about? Had the man hit his head? Did he not realize that Asher himself wanted out of this mess? Why would he sabotage his own escape? And did such a drug even exist?
Some men could be so stupid.
Still, Nolan was bold enough to say it, so Asher simply glared at him.
"Excuse me. Did you just give me that look?"
Nolan's threatening tone was cut short by a sharp slap to the back of his head, jolting him forward.
"You're making my fiancée uncomfortable," Xavier growled, sliding his hand over Asher's shoulders.
"Don't worry. He won't bother you again. When we return, you'll have all the rest you need. And tomorrow will be the big day."
He said it like it was the greatest thing that had ever happened to him.
Asher could see the happiness radiating from him. It made him wonder if this man had a personality disorder. Because this couldn't be the same vicious devil who nearly bit someone's hand off in prison.
It all felt unnatural. This obsession couldn't be real.
"You're not talking?" Xavier's voice turned soft, dreamy. "Don't worry. After our wedding, we'll have everything to ourselves. This is all I ever wanted."
His tone was filled with passion and fantasy, and Asher almost fell into a daze.
No.
This had to be manipulation—to lower his guard. And he couldn't allow that.
He had to protect himself.
Nolan was thinking the same thing. To him, this was all a trick.
Xavier loved his time. He loved his games. But to sacrifice all that and enter prison just to find a man? Even Nolan hadn't imagined witnessing such madness.
And now he was marrying him.
Not even a long courtship—just rushing into it as fast as possible.
Why?
Xavier tossed Nolan the key to the Royce. Nolan grumpily caught it and went to start the car. But as he glanced back, his eyes widened, jaw dropping open.
He thought he had seen every version of Xavier's insanity.
He was wrong.
Xavier carried Asher in a bridal style, the man's hair flying softly in the air, making the scene look ridiculously romantic and dangerously beautiful.
Nolan finally accepted it wholeheartedly.
Xavier Devereaux had completely cracked.
And while all this unfolded, drama ignited within the prison world.
The news spread like wildfire.
Xavier Devereaux was returning to the underworld—with a man.
His bride.
His soon-to-be Donna.
And fire broke out among the clans as gossip passed from one corner of the underworld to another.
Note: Add to your library please to support me