Mixed blood

Chapter five : I'll marry that whore

Two days ago...

"You'll marry Romaro's daughter," Henry declared, his voice cold and final.

William remained seated, his face unreadable. His father was waiting for outrage, for protest, but he gave him nothing. No reaction. No weakness.

Marry his archenemy's daughter? A Romaro? He should have seen it coming.

The room was heavy with expectation, but William merely exhaled, slow and measured. "I see."

His father's brows twitched, clearly expecting more of a fight. "That's all you have to say?"

"What else is there?" William's voice was devoid of emotion. "You've already made your decision."

Henry studied him, searching for defiance, for resistance. He would find none. Not on the surface.

"This marriage is necessary," his father continued, testing him. "It will put an end to generations of bloodshed."

William leaned back, fingers tapping idly against the armrest. "And how do you know they won't stab us in the back the second they have the chance?"

"They won't," Henry replied, his tone absolute. "Not if we secure the right leverage."

Leverage. That was all marriage was in their world—another transaction. Another contract sealed with blood.

"I assume you expect me to play the devoted husband," William said, his voice edged with dry amusement.

"I expect you to do your duty," his father corrected.

William let a slow smirk curl at the corner of his lips. "And if I refuse?"

Henry's eyes darkened. "You won't."

It wasn't a threat. It was a statement of fact.

William's gaze remained impassive. "You sound so sure."

"You have no choice."

William's smirk didn't waver. "I always have a choice."

Henry's expression hardened. "Are you willing to gamble with his life?"

A flicker of ice crept into William's eyes.

Henry didn’t need to say his name. He didn’t have to.

He already knew who he meant. The one he had shielded from this life at all costs. The only piece of his soul still untouched by blood and violence.

Henry leaned back, satisfied with the silence that followed. "Then it's settled."

William didn't blink. Didn't flinch. He only nodded once, slow and deliberate.

"Fine."

No anger. No outburst. Nothing for his father to latch onto.

He would play the game. He would marry Romaro's daughter.

But love?

Devotion?

They’d get nothing of the sort.

His future may no longer be his own.

But his heart?

That was something they would never control.

Return to the day of the fight...

Adrenaline still pulsed through William's veins as his men guided him out of the warehouse, his shoulder burning from the wound. Blood soaked through his shirt, the pain sharp, but it was nothing compared to the searing betrayal that twisted in his gut.

Luana.

She had fooled him. Played him like a fool. And she had done it without blinking.

The medical team rushed forward, but William waved them off with an impatient glare. "Just patch me up," he snapped.

One of the medics knelt beside him, assessing the injury. "You're lucky it's not deeper, but it needs to be treated properly,"

Lucky? He wanted to laugh. He had never been lucky—not when it came to trust.

"This will sting," she warned, pressing an antiseptic wipe against his wound.

William barely flinched. Pain was nothing. Pain reminded him that he was still alive. When he was long dead.

This wasn't some twisted nightmare—no, this was real. The woman he had trusted, the woman he had loved, had driven a knife straight into his back, and he had let her.

"Any idea who did this?" Dimitri asked.

William let out a slow, humorless chuckle, his hands curling into fists. "I have a good guess."

Once the bleeding was under control, the medic began to wrap his shoulder. "You'll need to keep this clean and dry. And no heavy lifting for a few days."

William barely heard her. His mind was elsewhere—on her. On every lie she had fed him. On every touch, every word, every moment that had been nothing but an illusion.

"Just finish up," he growled.

Once they were done, he stood up too fast, lightheaded from the blood loss, but he didn't care. He stormed out of their  warehouse, leaving his men behind, and drove straight home.

But home didn't bring him peace. It only deepened the suffocating weight in his chest.

She had been Amara to him—the woman who made him feel again. The woman he had wanted to believe in. But she had never existed. It had been Luana all along. Luana Romaro. The daughter of his enemy.

And now, she was supposed to be his wife.

A bitter laugh escaped his lips.

His jaw clenched as he grabbed his keys and stormed back out, getting in his car and heading to the nearest bar. He needed a drink. No—he needed something stronger. Something to burn the bitterness from his throat, if only for a moment.

He pushed through the bar doors, barely acknowledging the people inside. The dim light and low murmur of conversation did nothing to dull the fury coiling inside him. He walked straight to the counter, slamming a wad of cash onto it.

"Whiskey. Leave the bottle," he ordered, his voice like ice.

The bartender hesitated but complied, sliding the bottle and a glass toward him. William didn't bother with the glass. He downed the liquor from the bottle.

"Amara..." He whispered the name like a curse, rolling the word on his tongue, tasting the venom. No. Luana. The woman I will make suffer.

He had been so sure of her. So sure she was his. But she had been playing a game all along, weaving her way into his life, into his mind, until he was tangled in a web he hadn't even realized was closing around him.

And he had let her.

His fingers tightened around the glass until it nearly shattered. It wasn't just the betrayal that burned—it was the realization that he had been nothing more than a pawn. And now? Now he had to marry her.

Luana Romaro. His enemy. His to-be-wife.

His father wanted him to marry her? Fine.

He would.

And then, when she least expected it, he would ruin her.

He would strip away everything she cared about, everything she loved. He would tear her world apart piece by piece, until she knew what it felt like to be him.

To trust.

To love.

To be betrayed.

William exhaled slowly, his fury settling into something far more dangerous. A promise. A plan.

He downed another shot, his grip tightening.

"I'll marry that whore," he muttered, voice deathly calm. "And I'll turn her life into hell."