JoseMary

She was the price of betrayal.she was served the punishment she didn’t see coming.

When Aria Monroe's father and step mom sealed a deal with the moretti family , she’s forced to replace her step-sister and to enter into an arranged marriage with Lucien Moretti, the ruthless heir,the most feared mafia family in New York. Cold. Possessive. Deadly. He makes no promises of love—only ownership.

When forced by her family, Aria's freedom was signed away. But marrying Lucien means stepping into a world of velvet lies and blood-stained truths, where trust is a luxury and affection and weapon.

She’s fire—beautiful, defiant, and untamed.
He’s ice—unforgiving, controlling, and consumed by vengeance.
Together, they burn.
 
Lucien doesn’t want love — he wants control.
Aria doesn’t want a husband — she wants freedom.
But the longer they’re bound together, the deeper the obsession grows.

Secrets. Betrayal. Passion.
In a world of blood and loyalty, Aria must decide:
Is she a pawn in a deadly game… or the queen about to take the king?

And as secrets unravel and enemies close in, passion becomes war, and their bond teeters between destruction and desire.
In a world ruled by power and violence, can love ever be more than a blood price?

His Bride,His Blood Price

The morning after the storm was quiet.

The sky had cleared, but the house felt... unsettled. Like it was holding its breath.

She hadn't seen Lucien since he left the library. And even though she told herself it didn't matter, every part of her strained to hear his footsteps. To feel his presence.

He'd come so close to kissing her.

Because he was careful. Because he was in control.

But something between them had changed — like a dam cracking beneath pressure.

And she didn't know how much longer it would hold.

She opened it to find Enzo — one of Lucien's personal men. Always dressed like a bodyguard, always quiet.

"Where did this come from?" she asked.

Enzo's jaw tightened. "It was left at the gate. No signature. Only meant for you."

It was a message — one meant to rattle Lucien.

She stepped back into her room and opened it.

Her. From behind. Taken in the garden the day Lucien was gone.

And scrawled in blood-red ink across the back:

"Even a lion bleeds when the lamb is gutted."

He found her standing by the windows, pale-faced, clutching something in her hands.

He simply took the photo from her fingers and read the words.

Aria watched him carefully — trying to read him like she had the last few weeks.

But this wasn't the Lucien she knew.

The version of him whispered about behind closed doors.

He folded the photo with surgical precision.

And said, "From now on, you don't go anywhere without a shadow. Not the library. Not the terrace. Not even the damn hallway."

Aria frowned. "You think they're watching me?"

Lucien didn't blink. "I know they are."

The tension in the room crackled, but it wasn't like before.

This wasn't slow-burning intimacy.

This was a storm reloading itself.

She moved closer to him, searching his face.

And for a moment, something flickered in his eyes — fear, guilt, protectiveness.

"All my enemies know I don't have weaknesses," he said.

"But they think… you might be one."

She didn't know what to say to that.

So she reached for the words she could say.

"You didn't sleep last night, did you?"

They stood in silence again, close enough that she could feel the heat of him.

His hand reached for her waist — not possessive this time, but grounding.

"I find out who left the letter," he said. "And I gut them."

Later that night, Aria found herself on the couch in Lucien's private lounge. A fire burned low. Rain had returned, softer this time.

Lucien handed her tea. He didn't sit beside her — he stood behind the armrest, like he was guarding the room.

"You don't have to watch me every second," she said gently.

His Bride, His Blood Price