Addicted to Captive Love The Mafia Godfather’s Substitute Heiress Chapter 03

Addicted to Captive Love The Mafia Godfather’s Substitute Heiress Chapter 03

Celandine’s POV

Dim yellow light spilled across the room.

The older, fully grown man sat on the bed.

His upper body was bare, his muscles carved hard as stone.

Old bullet wounds and knife scars overlapped from his shoulders down to his abdomen, only adding to the violent, masculine pull of him.

And right now, both of Thierry’s wrists were locked to the headboard with custom steel restraints, leaving him unable to move.

Thierry lifted his eyes, and his dark gaze pinned me in place.

“Celandine, you’ve lost your damn mind.”

He looked sharp, defiant, and dangerous, with the authority of a man born to rule.

I had seen that particular Don-like pressure in him once before, when he spoke to a traitor who was about to be sent to his execution.

I stood in the doorway, my heart pounding like a drum, yet I still gave him an ingratiating smile.

“How could I, with you here?”

Thierry had flown back from Poland the day after he heard that Briony and I had been switched at birth.

The moment he stepped off his private jet, I tricked him into coming here.

He had not even brought his luggage.

On the first day I kept him locked up, he was still wearing his custom-tailored suit.

By the second day, I had stripped off his suit pants and changed him into a pair of loose lounge pants.

As for a shirt, that was impossible.

Thierry was too big, his muscles too solid, and his whole body was much larger than mine.

There was nothing in my closet that would fit him.

For the past two days, I had been stocking the safe house like an ant dragging supplies home piece by piece.

I put down my bag and took everything out.

There were blueberries, cookies, whole milk, and toast.

There were also two changes of lounge clothes, a pack of men’s XL boxer briefs, and a few small square condom packets printed with tiny strawberries.

They were strawberry-flavored and ultra-thin.

Thierry saw the packets clearly, and his face darkened at once.

“What did you buy those for?”

I lifted my lashes and stole a glance at him.

“I want you to teach me how to use them.”

The basement went silent for a full five seconds.

Thierry laughed in pure disbelief.

“I’m your brother.”

I puffed out my cheeks. “Not by blood.”

His jaw tightened, and a storm gathered behind his eyes.

“You really are insane.”

“I watched you grow up. How dare you do something this out of line?”

I smiled helplessly and shook my head.

“Is that so, Thierry? Then maybe you don’t know me as well as you think.”

The quiet ones are usually the most unhinged.

As for me, I had always believed that the dogs that bite do not bark.

The one who saw me most clearly was Jovan.

Once, when I visited him on set, a producer saw me and immediately brightened.

“She’s gorgeous. There’s a sweet, innocent type of role that would suit her perfectly.”

Jovan laughed so hard he nearly doubled over.

“That is the funniest thing I’ve heard all year.”

“Don’t let Celandine’s sweet, quiet act fool you. She has more schemes running through her head than anyone, and she’s the boldest person in this entire family.”

He was right.

I was bold enough to fall in love with the future Don, and reckless enough to imprison him without shame.

If the other Caporegimes in the family found out, I would be executed under family law, and they might even cast me out of the family entirely.

But I was no longer afraid of anything.

I walked to the bed.

Curling my legs beneath me, I sat sideways in Thierry’s lap and pressed my cheek against his bare chest.

Thierry’s skin was burning hot, and his heartbeat was steady and powerful, striking against my ear again and again.

I lifted my head and looked at him with open infatuation.

“Thierry, I like you. I want to be with you.”

“You taught me how to ride. You taught me how to use a gun.”

I placed the strawberry condom packets in his hand.

“So you should teach me how to use these, too.”

The air in the room turned dangerously heavy.

Expressionless, Thierry raised his hand. The chains rattled as he slapped the packets away.

“Not a chance.”

I tilted my head and looked at the packets lying in the corner, then puffed out my cheeks and sighed with regret.

“Thierry, you don’t want to use them?”

I shifted my position.

Swinging one leg over him, I straddled his lean, solid midsection.

Then I lowered my head and rubbed my cheek against his.

Scared but reckless, I said, “Fine. We’ll do it your way, then. We won’t use them.”

My lips brushed against his earlobe, and I whispered in a tiny voice.

“Do you want me to give you an heir, Don Wynn?”