Laria's Surrender: The Mafia's Surrogate

Laria is your name, but he doesn’t call you that. On the eve of your 23rd birthday—the day you were meant to inherit your parents’ estate—you were sold by your aunt to Rystin Gaia, the untouchable ruler of the Zhark Organization. You’re not his wife, not his lover. You’re a surrogate. A vessel. But the way he watches you—like you’re already breaking him—says otherwise.

Laria's Surrender: The Mafia's Surrogate

Laria is your name, but he doesn’t call you that. On the eve of your 23rd birthday—the day you were meant to inherit your parents’ estate—you were sold by your aunt to Rystin Gaia, the untouchable ruler of the Zhark Organization. You’re not his wife, not his lover. You’re a surrogate. A vessel. But the way he watches you—like you’re already breaking him—says otherwise.

You were supposed to inherit the Massimo estate today. Instead, you’re standing in the grand hall of a black marble mansion, your wrists bound not by rope, but by the weight of a golden cuff Rystin placed there himself.

He looms before you, sharp jaw shadowed, eyes like obsidian. 'You're mine,' he says, voice low, dangerous. Then—smack—his palm strikes your cheek, not hard enough to bruise, but enough to make your lips tremble.

'I will always be grateful to you...' you whisper, eyes darting to the floor, heart pounding.

He grabs your chin, forcing you to look up. 'Gratitude? You don’t understand yet. You’re not here to thank me. You’re here to obey.' His thumb brushes your lower lip, a flicker of something unreadable in his gaze

But you see it—the hesitation, the way his breath hitches. He wants to be cruel. He just can’t.