Until Forever Ends: A Dark Mafia Romance

by Adelaide Forrest

  She stood slowly with a slight grimace as Regina stepped in to offer her a hand and help her, wobbling on her bare feet as her knees protested the movement. "What is all this?" she asked, glancing at the dress bag in my hands.

  Regina looked at me as she guided Isa to me, placing her hand in mine so that I could support her as I dropped the dress bag onto the bed. I nodded back, and she smiled with tears in her eyes before she ducked out of the room and closed the door behind her. "Rafael?" Isa asked, swallowing her nerves as her eyes fell to the garment bag. "You're scaring me."

  "There's no need to be afraid, Princesa," I murmured, leaning forward to touch my lips to her forehead. She leaned into the touch, exhaustion written into the lines of her face as her eyes drifted closed. With everything I'd thrown at her since bringing her to El Infierno, I knew this would be the last hit for a little while.

  She needed to rest. She needed to come to terms with her place in my life, and there was just one more piece to move into position before she could do that.

  "Then what's going on?" she asked. "Are we leaving the island?"

  I released her slowly, giving her the chance to find the balance to stand on her own. She swayed slightly without my support, but persevered through it to stare down at the dress bag and watch as I unzipped it carefully. The simple white dress had been made by Alejandro's mother. With thin straps that would hang off her shoulders and a fitted bust that fell to delicate layers of hand stitched lace that would trail lightly behind her.

  It was understated, but fit for my Queen in a way that I knew would suit her. She stared down at it, shaking her head in protest quickly as she tried to back up a step. "It's too soon," she argued, not even bothering to deny that she would marry me one day. She'd agreed to it by not killing me when she had the chance.

  "I've waited long enough," I told her, stepping forward to grab the tie on her robe. She swatted at my hand, trying to push me away as I unknotted it and bared her body to my gaze. With only a strapless bra and matching panties to cover her, it would take every ounce of control in my body to keep from taking her then and there.

  Such was the sight of mi reina in all her glory.

  But the next time I came inside her, she would be my fucking wife.

  "Rafael, this isn't fair. I'm not ready for this!" She winced as I slid the robe off her shoulders, letting it pool at her feet. She was in no state to fight me, perhaps one of the benefits to being cruel and marrying her when she was sore. "You've known me for over a year, and you're older. But I'm only eighteen, and this is all so new to me. Please, just give me some time," she pleaded, watching in apprehension as I pulled the dress out of the bag and unzipped the back.

  "Time will not make a difference for you," I murmured, trying to keep my voice patient with her as I bunched the fabric in my hands. I slid it over her head, tugging it down and being careful not to disrupt her carefully arranged hair that she'd styled in waves. I maneuvered her arms into the straps while she stared at me. Her brain worked behind her gaze, trying desperately to come up with an excuse that I would accept.

  She sniffled, her bottom lip trembling as she fought back tears. A sliver of guilt crept in, not wanting her to cry on our wedding day. With her dress still unzipped, I cupped her face in my hands and leaned down to run my nose along the side of hers. Taking care not to muss her makeup, I kissed her gently. Coaxing her to remember the reason that I needed to marry her so urgently.

  I loved her. I would always love her.

  I wouldn't waste another day without her as my wife.

  "Will it always be like this?" she asked, shrugging her shoulders as her face twisted with pain. "You deciding things for me? Forcing me into things I'm not ready for?"

  I stepped around her, zipping her dress and sweeping her hair to one side. I touched my lips to her shoulder as my hand drifted down to the bandage on her arm. Pulling it free slowly, I stared down at the ink that claimed her as mine. Knowing that soon my rings would rest on her fingers as well appeased the beast in me, letting me be gentler with her in our private moments than I would be if she challenged me at the ceremony itself.

  I had no doubt she would, and I'd taken precautions to ensure her complete cooperation. Even if it bothered me that I would need them.

  "It won't always be like this," I said. "Things will settle. You'll adjust to your life at my side, and eventually you'll come to embrace who you are when you're with me. It would be easier if you didn't fight me every step of the way, but then you wouldn't be you," I said, smiling into her skin as she sighed.

  She nodded absently as I zipped up her dress, but the move was anything but an agreement. We both knew that the real fight had yet to come.

  24

  Isa

  There was a church on the forsaken island from hell. A place that should have been abandoned by God or the ancestors, a mockery of all that my mother would consider holy.

  And yet, it was one of the more modest churches I'd ever seen, as if the people truly used it as a place to connect with God, despite the wealth of the village on the island and the riches Rafael commanded. He clearly didn't care for the church or its teachings, embracing the name of the devil as his pseudonym so fully that he'd marked it on my skin permanently. I stared down at the fresh ink staining my skin, the black so opposite to the delicate white lace of the dress Rafael had dressed me in.

  As he opened the door to the SUV and guided me out carefully despite my flats, I couldn't help but notice that the inside of the building was empty. I wouldn't have pegged Rafael as the type to hold a fancy ordeal, but I'd have thought his people would want to support him if they were so loyal.

  It was only when he guided me around the corner with his hand at my waist that I realized we weren't actually going to step inside. "Will you burst into flames?" I asked, the snark of my discomfort soothing me. My voice was all I had left in the situation Rafael had dealt me. My ability to refuse him, even if it would be inevitable, was my only power.

  I could deprive him of my will. Keeping it for myself so that I could continue to hold on to that last piece he hadn't claimed for himself. It sounded stupid even to me, but I'd fight with him until my dying breath before I went quietly with everything he planned.

  I would never be voiceless.

  "No, mi reina, but I thought you might like to have an outdoor wedding," he murmured as the backyard came into view. The simple chairs on either side of the flower lined aisle were filled with people I didn't recognize, the only exceptions being the brothers, Regina, and Alejandro who I'd seen in passing moments. He'd never bothered to introduce himself, averting his gaze whenever I was near as if I was nothing of consequence to him.

  I supposed I wasn't.

  The flower-and-fabric decorated arch at the end of the aisle was something from a destination wedding, breathtaking despite its simplicity. A priest already stood at the end of the aisle with a smile on his face as he waited. Rafael moved to walk forward, halting when my feet didn't move to follow at his side.

  His eyes were knowing as he looked to me, and I knew he'd expected this moment.

  I hadn't. I hadn't thought I'd bother to resist aside from voicing my displeasure, but seeing the set up that was so close to what I might have chosen for myself, if I'd had a say, struck too close to home. I'd never dared to dream of being married. Of starting a family of my own when I was the root cause of the dysfunction within the one I had.

  But I realized in those moments that I wanted that. I wanted the white picket fence and the husband who adored me. I wanted the man who would treat me like a queen and the children who would drive me insane despite the overwhelming love I felt for them.

  When I tried to fill in the gaps of the image, it was a faceless man. Rafael Ibarra wouldn't fit in that picture, because he would never be a normal man. He would never give me a white picket fence, but an island so entrenched in security that I couldn't leave without his permission. He wouldn't treat me like a queen in the way I thought I should
want, but he'd drive me mad with the extent of his obsession and the steps he would take to ensure he kept me as his.

  "It's time, Isa," Rafael warned, dropping his voice low enough to a growl that vibrated in my ear. He leaned into my side, saying the words I didn't know I needed to hear. "I will force you."

  I knew with a sudden clarity that it was what I needed. He knew it too, his gaze disappointed but not angry as I turned my face up to study him. I couldn't go willingly down the aisle, not with Rafael when he wasn't what I would have chosen for myself given the chance. I loved him, but I shouldn't have. I should have wanted someone safe, someone who would support my relationship with my family and foster my independence.

  Instead, I loved Rafael. A devil with no conscience who took lives. A devil who had lied to me, stalked me, and drugged me to bring me to his island paradise. It was wrong on every level, and unlike him, my guilt wouldn't allow me to go willingly with him into the setting sun on the horizon.

  He nodded his head, and Alejandro sighed before standing. He snatched Hugo from his chair by his shirt, pushing him toward where we stood at the end of the aisle. Hugo went along willingly, his shoulders sagged as his brothers watched and did nothing to intervene. Rafael dropped his hand from my waist, reaching into the back of his pants beneath his suit jacket and pulling a gun from his pocket. I blinked at the sight of it, my eyes going wide as I thought over the possibilities of what he might mean to do.

  Hurting Hugo because I wouldn't marry him was insane on another level, but it was far from beyond the realm of possibility when it came to El Diablo. "What are you doing?" I asked, my voice a harsh whisper as Alejandro pushed Hugo to his knees. In the same position as he'd been a few nights prior and I'd gotten between them. Rafael's gun pressed against his forehead as his eyes came to me.

  "Will you make me kill him, mi reina?" he asked as my lungs heaved. I turned my gaze down to look at Hugo, at the nervousness on his face. It was no act, or if it was, he hadn't been let in on the secret. Joaquin stood from his seat in the background, his eyes pleading as they connected with mine. "Or should I find Chloe and make her suffer for what she told you after all?" Rafael asked, drawing my attention back to him. The devil danced in his eyes, his fury rising with every second that I hesitated.

  Part of me could almost justify letting Hugo die. The darkest part of me tried to say that he would deserve it for what he'd done to me. But Chloe was an innocent. The friend who'd risked everything to tell me the truth I'd been too naive to see for myself. There was no justifying letting her suffer for my problems, but I still couldn't make myself say the words to end it all.

  Rafael pulled his gun back, slamming it into Hugo's face brutally as I watched the skin split open before my eyes. "Make your choice, Isa," he growled, fury growing more as I clenched my eyes closed and separated myself from him in that final way. I wouldn't give him the victory of my eyes when I caved to his demands, knowing there was no other choice.

  Even if I hadn't resisted at all, there'd never been a choice.

  "Okay," I whispered, my eyes flying open as Alejandro grabbed Hugo and hauled him out of the way. Rafael took my hand in his, storming up the aisle quickly as I scrambled to keep up on my aching legs.

  The moment Rafael and I stood before him, the Priest spoke. "We are gathered here today to celebrate one of life's greatest moments, the joining of two hearts. In this ceremony today we will witness the union of Rafael Ibarra Vasquez and Isabel Alawa Adamik in marriage." Rafael’s mother’s maiden name was another piece of information I’d never known about him, hanging on the end of his name like a sign of everything I still didn’t know.

  My heart dropped into my throat, my heart catching in my chest as I stared at the priest in front of me. The crowd of people behind us was eerily silent, the heavy weight of their gaze on my spine making tears sting my eyes. An island full of people, and no one would intervene.

  An island full of people, and they'd happily watch Rafael force me to be his wife.

  "Rafe," I murmured, turning to look at him. I couldn't do it. I couldn't condemn myself to this for the rest of my life. He slid his massive hand beneath my hair, grabbing me around the back of the neck and turning my head sharply until I faced the priest.

  "Get the fuck on with it," he ordered. The heavy weight of his hand never left me, holding me still as I stifled the strangled sob that tried to claw its way up my throat.

  "Why are you doing this?" I whispered, clenching my eyes closed. "I stayed. When will it ever be enough?"

  "When you're my wife," he growled, his fingers gripping my flesh so harshly I almost fell to my knees at his side. "When you're pregnant with my son. When I am imprinted on your very fucking soul," he snapped. "Only then will it ever be enough, mi reina."

  "Do you, Rafael, take Isabel to be your wedded wife, to cherish in love and in friendship, in strength and in weakness, in success and in disappointment, to love her faithfully, today, tomorrow, and for as long as the two of you shall live?" The Priest's words crawled over my skin, the meaning something entirely different for most people than it would be for me.

  There would be no divorce for me. No matter what he did, Rafael would never let me go.

  "I do," he said, the words cracking against the evening air. I glanced up at him from the corner of my eye, finding his bright gaze turned to me. I bit my bottom lip as I waited, never looking at the man who would help Rafael condemn me to my fate as he spoke.

  "Do you, Isabel, take Rafael to be your wedded husband, to cherish in love and in friendship, in strength and in weakness, in success and in disappointment, to love him faithfully, today, tomorrow, and for as long as the two of you shall live?" the Priest asked.

  "I can't," I mumbled, flinching back against Rafael's grip.

  "Say the fucking words, Isa," Rafael ordered, raising the gun he still held in his grip. He lifted it in my direction, touching the barrel to the side of my head as I looked at him out of the side of my eye.

  The gasp caught in my lungs, echoed by the sound of the people standing behind us. "Rafael," the Priest protested. Blood roared in my head, the shock of his gun touching my face making everything beyond the two of us seem fuzzy.

  "This is the only way you leave here without my ring on your finger, mi reina," he said harshly.

  "Rafael," I whispered, tears falling as I stared at him in betrayal. I'd thought him incapable of surprising me, I'd thought I'd known exactly what he was capable of, but the violent storm in his eyes dared me to test him. There was no doubt he would follow through if I pushed him.

  "I will not live without you as my wife. So say the fucking words, or we'll both stain the ground with our blood," he ordered.

  I clenched my eyes shut, the hollow of my life settling over me. Rafael was a raging inferno, destroying everything he touched. I'd been foolish to think I might survive the flames. "I do," I whispered, sealing my fate.

  Rafael dropped his hand from my neck and turned me to face him as he shoved his gun back into his pants. Alejandro stepped up at his side, depositing two rings into Rafael's outstretched hand as he grabbed my left in his grip and lifted it. He lined up the rose gold bands, sliding the engagement ring with a large, round moonstone at the center into the middle of the double banded wedding ring. The top of the band was studded with diamonds, resembling the crown on the Queen, and the words hasta que la muerte were engraved into the bottom band as he slid them onto my ring finger.

  The moonstone stared back at me, gleaming in the setting sun as the sky tinted orange.

  Alejandro held out a ring, the brushed black gleaming with the golden words nos separe etched into the surface as Rafael lifted a hand. I sniffed back tears, plucking it out of his palm carefully and sliding it up his finger and accepting him as my husband.

  "By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride!”

  Rafael's face loomed closer, the fire in his eyes dying down to a burning ember as he cupped my face in the p
alm of his hand. His lips touched mine in our first kiss as husband and wife, a crushing and claiming touch that echoed everything he’d already made clear.

  I would never be free.

  The cold metal of his ring touched my skin as he devoured me, a physical reminder that I wasn't just me anymore.

  I was the wife of El Diablo.

  25

  Isa

  The ride back to the house was silent as I stared out the window. I'd signed the marriage contract Rafael shoved in front of me, realizing it would be the last time I signed as Isabel Adamik.

  Something told me Rafael would never let me keep my maiden name, even knowing that it gave me a connection to my heritage when he'd taken all the others away from me. When we arrived back at the house, he lifted me into his arms before I could approach, carrying me over the threshold and into the home I would never escape.

  I should have stabbed him when I had the chance.

  My anger vibrated in my body, boiling my blood in a way I'd never felt before. I'd thought I'd felt anger. I'd thought I'd known what it was to hate someone so completely.

  I knew nothing.

  He set me on my feet in the kitchen, walking over to the stunning white cake that hadn't been there when we'd left. I watched as he picked up the knife, looking at me as if he knew that I would stab him if he handed it to me. He would have been right.

  Suddenly the idea of being a widow so young felt like a blessing.

  He placed my hand on the hilt of the knife, covering it with his own immediately and guiding it toward the cake. With everything else in our relationship, I didn't know why he required my participation. It wasn't like I had a choice either way. We carved out the first slice, the lack of people in the room growing more and more noticeable as we set the slice on a plate.

  He set the knife to the side, placing it as far from my grasp as he could manage before he picked up a fork. Cutting through it, he raised the red cake with white frosting to my mouth. It brushed against my lips, and I parted to let him feed me even though I would have preferred to take a bite out of his finger instead.