Novels2Search

THE GAME OF FEAR

IAN'S POV

“Okay, he's fucking dead now,” Masimo growls, gripping my hand tightly as he stands up, dragging me behind him out of the room. My heart races, pounding against my chest as I struggle to keep up with his quick strides. I have no idea what he's going to do next, but I follow him in silence, not daring to ask questions.

His hand is warm, almost too warm, as if the heat of his rage is seeping through his skin and into mine. I glance up at his face—jaw clenched, eyes burning with an intensity that both scares and captivates me. The man holding my hand isn’t just the mafia leader; he’s a storm on the verge of unleashing its fury.

The hallway stretches out before us, a long, ominous path lined with shadows. Masimo barks an order to one of his guards to gather everyone. Within minutes, the hallway fills with a line of guards, all standing as straight as steel, their guns held tightly in their arms. The air is thick with tension, so much so that it feels like breathing it in might choke me. They all bow their heads in unison, a synchronized movement of submission that speaks volumes about Masimo’s authority.

No one dares to raise their head. Not until Masimo gives them permission. And even then, I can see the fear flickering in their eyes as they risk a glance upward, their gazes shifting nervously between their ruthless leader and me. Masimo's grip on my hand tightens, and I can feel the pulse of his anger reverberating through my bones.

“Now, let’s play a game, shall we, boys?” Masimo’s voice rings out, loud and commanding, filling every corner of the hallway. The tension spikes, a palpable electricity that makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. My heart is pounding so hard I’m afraid they might hear it.

“The ones who answer correctly will live, and the ones who don’t… well, you’ll simply die.” His words send a shiver down my spine. I swallow hard, my throat suddenly dry. This is no ordinary game—this is a death sentence for someone, and it’s clear that Masimo has no intention of showing mercy.

The guards visibly tense, their faces paling. They know what’s coming. I can almost taste their fear—it’s bitter, like copper and sweat. Masimo is the most ruthless mafia leader ever, as I’ve been told time and time again. Heartless. Emotionless. Even at our wedding, I overheard someone whisper, “It’s a surprise he’s marrying anyone out of love.” They didn’t know I heard them, but I shot them a look that sent them scurrying away. Funny—they feared me, thinking I’d tell Masimo. They didn’t know I didn’t care.

“Y-Yes, sir,” the guards say in unison, their voices shaky despite their attempts to hide it. Masimo’s reputation precedes him. Even though he is a ruthless mafia leader, his guards respect him—a lot. They know that while he cares for his people, when things go wrong, not even his own father could stop him.

“You,” Masimo says, pointing to a random guard. Then he gestures toward me. “Do you know who he is?”

The guard swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing nervously. “Your husband, sir.”

A loud bang echoes through the hallway as Mika, one of Masimo’s trusted enforcers, pulls the trigger. The guard crumples to the ground, lifeless. I flinch, but Masimo doesn’t let go of my hand.

“Wrong answer,” Masimo says coldly, his voice devoid of emotion. “He’s your second boss first, then he’s my husband.”

A strange flutter stirs in my stomach at his words. He considers me… important? No one’s ever called me their boss before. Not like this. It’s terrifying and thrilling at the same time.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

Masimo’s gaze shifts to another guard. “Now you,” he says, his voice sharp as a blade. “Were you the one I ordered to buy these books?”

The guard’s face turns ashen. “Y-Yes, sir,” he stutters, clearly aware that he’s standing on the edge of a cliff. One wrong move, one wrong word, and he’s as good as dead.

“Where are the books?” Masimo asks, his tone deceptively calm. But the undercurrent of danger is unmistakable.

“I’m so sorry, sir. I-I forgot to buy the books,” the guard stammers, his voice quivering like a leaf in the wind. He looks like he’s about to cry, but Masimo shows no sympathy.

“Do you know who the books were for?” Masimo’s eyes narrow, a predator sizing up his prey.

“The second boss, your husband, sir,” the guard replies, his voice barely above a whisper.

Masimo’s expression darkens. “Did you think of him lightly? Did you forget to buy the books because you thought he wasn’t important?” His voice rises, each word a hammer driving the nails into the guard’s coffin.

“I-I…” the guard starts, but he doesn’t get to finish. Mika fires again, and another body hits the floor.

I stand frozen in place, my mind reeling. Masimo’s ruthlessness is on full display, and it’s both horrifying and strangely exhilarating. He’s defending me, in his own twisted way. He’s sending a message loud and clear: I’m important to him, and anyone who thinks otherwise will pay the price.

“Listen, everyone,” Masimo’s voice booms, echoing off the walls. “He is my fucking husband. He is the one I care about a lot, and I respect him too. If anyone—anyone—from here even thinks of disrespecting him or taking him lightly, I’ll cut you into small pieces and feed them to the dogs. Don’t ever take him lightly. Don’t gossip about him. Don’t even look at him. He’s fucking mine, and I’m possessive of what’s mine. Understood?”

“Yes, sir,” the guards respond in unison, their voices trembling with fear and respect.

“Dismissed,” Masimo says, waving a hand. The guards disperse quickly, not daring to linger.

I stand there, still in shock, my heart racing. Masimo’s words replay in my mind—*I’m his.* The thought sends a rush of emotions through me—fear, excitement, confusion. My heart is pounding so fast I’m sure he can hear it.

Suddenly, I feel a warm hand on my lower back, guiding me forward. “Let’s go,” Masimo says, his voice softer now. I nod, too stunned to speak, and let him lead me back to our room.

We enter, and I sit down on the edge of the bed, my mind still reeling from what just happened. Masimo stands in front of me, watching me closely.

“Don’t be too shocked by the firing,” he says, placing a hand on mine. “This will happen a lot, so get used to it.”

I nod again, still unable to find my voice. The reality of my situation is sinking in—this is my life now.

Masimo squeezes my hand gently, a surprising gesture of comfort. “Now that everything is official and everyone knows we’re married, I’ll start staying in this room with you. We’ll have all our meals together if I’m not busy. Okay?”

He’s asking, but it’s clear that this isn’t a request—it’s a statement of how things will be. I nod, not trusting myself to speak.

Masimo gets up and looks at me. “Wear something nice. We’re going out to dinner in fifteen minutes. I have a meeting, but I’ll pick you up afterward.”

Fifteen minutes later, I’m ready, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt with a bold quote: *I don’t give a fuck about anyone else.* As I step outside, I see Masimo waiting for me in a sleek Lamborghini. He’s dressed in a sharp suit, looking every bit the powerful mafia leader. When he sees me, he starts laughing.

I smile a little, feeling self-conscious, but as I approach, he gets out of the car and opens the door for me. Such a gentleman. I slide into the passenger seat, and we drive off, the city lights blurring past us.

It’s a short drive to the restaurant, but when we arrive, I’m blown away. It’s the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen, dripping with luxury and elegance. As we walk in, a woman greets us, her eyes narrowing slightly when she sees me, but softening when she looks at Masimo.

“Bitch,” I mutter under my breath, but Masimo hears it. He smirks and pulls me closer, wrapping an arm around my waist.

“He’s my husband,” he says, his voice firm and possessive.

I blush hard, my heart fluttering in my chest.

The woman forces a smile. “Well, lucky him,” she says, clearly jealous. “Let me show you to your table.”

Masimo smirks, clearly enjoying the effect his words have on me. I feel his hand tighten around my waist as we follow the hostess to our table, my mind spinning with everything that’s happened tonight. I don’t know what to expect next, but one thing is certain—life with Masimo will never be boring.