Relucatanaly Ruined & Owned By The Mafia Novel

The Mask He Never Removed by Ariana Drew 7 Summary In Chapter 7 of "The Mask He Never Removed," Lucia finds herself at a wedding reception that feels more like a prison than a celebration. The atmosphere is thick with misogyny as old men leer at her, making crude comments about her body and her purpose as a woman. Despite her anger, Lucia maintains her composure and responds with biting wit, but the oppressive environment weighs heavily on her.

She feels isolated, especially after her family has returned to Italy, leaving her to navigate this new life with a husband who is a powerful and dangerous Don. As the reception progresses, Lucia's discomfort grows, especially when her husband, Dante, displays possessiveness while conducting business with criminal associates. The tension escalates when Finn, one of Dante's associates, makes lewd remarks about her, and Lucia retaliates with a sharp insult. This only serves to tighten Dante's grip on her wrist, a reminder of the precarious position she is in.

The reception is a facade of celebration, masking the reality of her marriage-a business arrangement steeped in danger and violence. The arrival of Sienna, a woman from Dante's past, adds another layer of tension. Her flirtation with Dante and her insinuations about their relationship make Lucia feel threatened and humiliated. Despite the undercurrents of rivalry, Lucia stands her ground, challenging Sienna's assumptions about her role as Dante's wife.

However, the confrontation only serves to deepen the divide between them, highlighting the complexities of her new life and the expectations placed upon her. Just as Lucia grapples with her emotions and the reality of her marriage, chaos erupts when a group of men enters the reception, signaling imminent danger. The atmosphere shifts from celebratory to deadly serious, as Dante prepares for a confrontation with rival forces linked to her father's past.

Lucia's confusion and fear escalate as she realizes the gravity of her situation, feeling utterly trapped in a world of violence and power struggles. The chapter ends with her overwhelmed by tears, reflecting her deep sense of betrayal and helplessness in a life she never chose. Continue Regular Chapter Reading Below **Chapter 7** **LUCIA** "Those hips of yours will surely bear many sons, eh? Strong boys to carry on the Cummiskey legacy," he sneered, his eyes glinting with a mix of arrogance and entitlement. The urge to spit in his face was overwhelming, but I managed to keep my composure.

Instead, I flashed him a saccharine smile and replied, "How generous of you to assume I'm merely breeding stock, sir. I do hope your own wife is valued for more than just being a womb with legs." The atmosphere at the table went as still as a graveyard, and the man, visibly flustered, retreated with his tail tucked firmly between his legs. I had tried to convey to Dante that a wedding reception was unnecessary, but as with every aspect of this marriage, my voice was drowned out by the tide of decisions made for me.

My husband was the Don of one of the most dangerous organizations in the world, and now that he was married, it was imperative for his business associates to meet his new wife and extend their well-wishes. The problem lay in the fact that nearly all of these associates were old men, steeped in archaic, misogynistic views, and I simply would not tolerate it. Each time they laid their eyes on me, the same comments echoed in the air. Strong hips. Strong sons. Strong daughters. Sons to expand their empire; daughters to be bartered like livestock.

With every toast, I could feel the bile rise in my throat. The reception was an absolute nightmare. My father had instilled in me the necessity of wearing a smile until the last guest departed, and of course, I was expected to be the epitome of a submissive wife, catering to my husband's every whim. That was right after he and my brothers had whisked my sister away back to Italy, leaving me behind in this foreign land. It felt as if my heart had been ripped from my chest, leaving a gaping wound.

Seated at the head table like a delicate porcelain doll, I felt Dante's hand possessively resting on my thigh, a silent claim as he conducted business with every criminal in Dublin who had come to pay their respects and meet his new bride. "Smile, little rabbit," Dante murmured in my ear during a brief lull between well-wishers. "You're starting to resemble someone attending a funeral rather than celebrating your wedding." "Isn't that essentially the same thing?" I shot back, my voice low enough to evade the ears of our guests. His grip on my thigh tightened, a warning. "Be cautious.

We have an audience." An audience of men with blood under their fingernails and women adorned with diamond collars, all pretending this was a romantic fairy tale rather than a business deal sealed in blood, where one party was master and the other, a slave. The irony wasn't lost on me; half of these individuals likely had warrants out for their arrest, yet here they were, indulging in wedding cake and toasting to our supposed happiness.

"Dante, my friend!" boomed a massive man with gold teeth and lifeless eyes as he approached our table, his arms wide in a greeting that felt more predatory than friendly. "You never mentioned your bride was such a beauty. Where have you been hiding this one?" "Finn," Dante's voice was low and menacing. "Meet my wife, Lucia." Finn's gaze crawled over me like I was a piece of meat being appraised for purchase. "Lucky bastard. I bet she's a wildcat in bed, eh? Those Italian girls always are." The urge to hurl my champagne in his face was strong, but I held back, opting instead for a sweet smile.

"Actually, I specialize in severing the small things that men tend to be overly proud of. Would you care for a demonstration?" Once more, silence enveloped the table, a heavy blanket of tension. Each time I spoke, it seemed to invoke a hush. Finn's face drained of color, and I realized I had made a perilous error by insulting a Capo in front of witnesses. "My wife has quite the sense of humor," Dante said smoothly, though his hand had shifted to my wrist, gripping it tightly enough to leave bruises.

"She's still acclimating to Irish hospitality." "Ah, right," Finn chuckled, though the laughter didn't reach his eyes. "Break her in slowly, lad. The spirited ones require a bit more... patience." The men at the table nodded in agreement, and I felt a wave of nausea wash over me. Break me in. Like I was some horse to be tamed. "Speaking of breaking things in," another voice interjected. I looked up to see a woman approaching our table-mid-thirties, blonde, and exuding a seductive confidence that felt almost suffocating.

Her dress was scandalously low-cut for a wedding, and she moved with the self-assuredness of someone who owned every room she entered. "Sienna," Dante's body went rigid beside me, a tension radiating off him. "Hello, darling," she cooed, leaning down to kiss his cheek, her lips lingering just a fraction too long. "Congratulations on your... marriage." The way she pronounced the word made it sound like a curse. "Sienna Walsh," she said, extending a perfectly manicured hand toward me. "I'm an old friend of your husband's. Very old. Very...

close." I shook her hand, feeling her grip tighten just enough to sting. "How lovely to meet you." "Oh, I'm sure we'll be seeing a lot of each other. I run the Pearl-you know, the gentlemen's club where your husband spends most of his evenings? I do hope you're not the jealous type." My stomach plummeted. A strip club. My husband owned a strip club, and this woman, clearly more than just a friend, managed it for him. "Actually, Sienna oversees several of my businesses," Dante interjected carefully, though I could see the tension in his jaw. "She's very...

capable." "Among other things," she purred, trailing a finger along his shoulder. "I've kept your usual table reserved, darling. For when married life gets too... domestic." Something in her tone made my stomach clench, but she continued, oblivious to the storm brewing. "Dante has very... specific needs. I do hope you're prepared to meet them all." I wanted to claw her eyes out. Instead, I lifted my chin defiantly and met her gaze head-on. "How considerate of you to assume my husband will seek entertainment elsewhere.

Though I suppose in your line of work, you're accustomed to dealing with disappointed men." Her smile quickly turned defensive. "And I assume in your role as an ornamental wife, you're used to being replaced by more intriguing alternatives." "That's enough," Dante's voice cut through the tension like a knife before I could respond. "Perhaps we should save the territorial disputes for another occasion." "Of course," Sienna straightened, smoothing her dress with a practiced elegance. "I wouldn't want to keep the happy couple from their...

wedding night activities." She leaned closer to Dante, her voice a sultry whisper. "The usual arrangement continues as before, yes? Your marriage won't... complicate things?" "Nothing's changed," he replied tersely. As she sauntered away, her hips swaying like a challenge, a chilling realization washed over me. I wasn't merely married to a stranger; I was tied to a man with a life full of lovers, enemies, and complications that would now intertwine with my own. A chronic womanizer who had no intention of changing. "Who is she really?" I demanded, once she was out of earshot.

"Someone you don't need to concern yourself with." "Bullshit." He turned to face me fully, his green eyes hard as emeralds. "She's someone who knows better than to question my decisions. Unlike my new wife." "Your wife who you're going to 'break in' like a fucking horse?" I shot back, my voice rising in indignation. "My wife who needs to learn when to keep her mouth shut before she gets us both killed." "Gets us killed?" I echoed, anger bubbling to the surface. "What the hell does that mean?" Before he could respond, a commotion at the entrance drew everyone's attention.

The music came to an abrupt halt, conversations ceased, and every head turned toward the church doors. Five men in identical black suits entered like a death squad, their movements synchronized and predatory. They were not here to celebrate. "Fabrizio's boys," someone whispered, and the name rippled through the room like a wave of dread. Dante's hand instinctively moved toward the gun I now realized he concealed beneath his jacket.

Around us, chairs scraped as men reached for their weapons, and suddenly, the wedding reception morphed into a tense standoff, a competition of who could draw their guns first. "Stay behind me," Dante commanded, rising slowly. "No matter what happens, you stay behind me, and you don't make a fucking sound." "What's happening?" I asked, panic rising in my chest. "The consequences of your father's stupidity are walking through that door." "What does that mean?" I pressed, anger and confusion coursing through me.

"Are you about to get into a fight?" Dante turned sharply, shoving me back into my seat with a force that took my breath away. "Your other husband has come to collect his prize." His voice was strict, brooking no argument. "Stay put and shut up for once, woman. You're driving me insane with your incessant chattering." With that, he stepped forward, every eye in the room glued to him as if the Don himself were striding into the depths of hell. I was so overwhelmed and humiliated that I didn't even realize when the tears began to spill down my cheeks.

Conclusion In the chaos of the reception, Lucia's emotional turmoil reached a boiling point, as the weight of her new reality settled heavily upon her shoulders. The laughter and merriment that had once surrounded her now felt like a cruel masquerade, hiding the sinister truths lurking beneath the surface. Each comment about her worth as a vessel for future generations stung like a slap, and the presence of Sienna, a constant reminder of Dante's past and the life she had unwittingly stepped into, ignited a fire within her that she had long buried.

As the tension escalated with the arrival of Fabrizio's men, it became painfully clear that her life was no longer her own; she was caught in a web of power, violence, and betrayal, where her voice was stifled and her autonomy diminished. The tears that streamed down her cheeks were not just of fear but of a profound realization that she was trapped in a world that saw her as nothing more than a pawn. Yet, amidst the chaos, a flicker of defiance ignited within Lucia. The confrontation with Dante and the chilling presence of Sienna had awakened a strength she had forgotten she possessed.

Though her heart was heavy with uncertainty and her future shrouded in darkness, she refused to be merely a silent spectator in her own life. The tears that fell were a testament to her pain, but they also marked the beginning of her awakening-a determination to reclaim her voice and assert her identity beyond the confines of her marriage. As Dante faced the looming threat with a steely resolve, Lucia found herself at a crossroads, poised to either succumb to the fate that awaited her or rise from the ashes of despair, ready to fight for her place in a world that sought to diminish her.

Lucia, caught in the crossfire of a world she barely understands, will have to navigate the treacherous waters of her new reality. Will she remain the silent, compliant wife Dante expects her to be, or will she find the strength to assert herself in a situation that threatens not only her life but also the fragile foundation of her marriage? With every heartbeat, the atmosphere thickens with impending violence, and Lucia's resolve will be tested like never before.

As secrets unravel and alliances are questioned, readers can expect to see a shift in Lucia's character-one that may challenge the very dynamics of her relationship with Dante. Will she finally confront him about the implications of their marriage and the presence of Sienna, or will fear keep her silent? As the chapter unfolds, the reader will be left on the edge of their seat, wondering if Lucia can reclaim her voice amidst the chaos, or if she will remain a pawn in a deadly game orchestrated by men who see her as nothing more than a prize.

Prepare for an adrenaline-fueled chapter that promises twists, revelations, and a fierce battle for survival that could change everything for Lucia and Dante. The questions linger: Who will emerge victorious, and at what cost? The answers lie just beyond the next page, where the line between love and survival blurs in a world where trust is a luxury few can afford.