Bride by Coronation (Paperback)
Bride by Coronation (Paperback)
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Synopsis
Synopsis
The continuation of International bestselling author Maggie Cole's highly-received secret society, drenched in dark undertones, next-generation Mafia series about two enemy lovers never meant to be together until one action catapulted their arranged marriage. Now, Fiona O'Malley and Kirill Petrov will have to let go of their preconceived notions, emotional scars, and everything they knew to be true about themselves.
My brother arranged for me to marry a stranger, one marked with a diagonal scar across his face and a tattoo necklace on his hand.
Neither disgusts me. They also aren't what scares me.
Kirill Petrov's a sworn enemy of our family and King of the Underworld. A towering man with darkness in his gaze, an unspoken promise of what he'll do to me, and something so deep in his expression it hurts my heart.
Yet the blaze of his allure only grows hotter, singing, until I can't resist him any longer… until I'm his Queen wearing his necklace night after night, staring at the beast inside his soul.
If I could, I'd kill that beast until the world saw my husband as the man I see—the man I love.
Except I give him my heart before I learn the full truth. And once you see the unforgettable, how can you go back? How can you forgive your husband for sins that aren't his, yet he's tied to? Especially when the people you love got hurt in the most vile of ways?
Bride by Coronation is a standalone novel with interconnected characters and book two of The Underworld series. This dark, secret society, Mafia, enemies to lovers, forbidden, arranged marriage, and emotional scars novel is not meant for the faint of heart. Expect violence, taboo, and graphic scenes.
Bride by Coronation-Prologue
Bride by Coronation-Prologue
Fiona O'Malley
Memories of my father keep fading. Sometimes, I have to look at photos to remember his smile. There are only a few videos of birthday parties where I can hear his voice. And the more years that have gone by, the more confusion evolves regarding who he was and what he was involved in that led to his murder.
As much as I want to know, I don't think anyone will ever be honest with me. Everyone wants to protect me and keep me isolated. So I stay inside my world full of people who are beautiful on the outside but lack the one thing I never forget my father taught me: True beauty is a scarred masterpiece. It runs deeper than we initially see, digging into the core of who a person is and blooming into a blinding light. It's so magnificent that only those who take the time to closely examine it can appreciate its uniqueness and recognize its rarity. Even fewer people exist who can see it immediately, becoming blinded by the brightness of another upon the first gaze.
Everyone wants me to find my guy and settle down, but there's a problem with every man I date.
No one is really beautiful. They lack the glow of imperfect blemishes the world sees as ugly. But as my father taught me, the world is wrong. The imperfections the world doesn't appreciate are exquisitely beautiful and rare, and that's the type of man I ache to know...to hold close...to ultimately love for eternity.
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"Why do you have my father's mark on you?"
Guilt flickers over his face, then turns to a hardened expression. "It's nothing."
"Like hell it is!" I object.
"Take your drink, Fiona," he orders in a low tone.
I grab it, my hand trembling.
He snatches the bags of cookies and then slides his arm around me so I'm forced to walk with him.
After several steps, I push away. "Tell me how you got my father's mark!"
"It's just a design I found. I don't know how it could be your father's," he claims.
I seethe, "Liar! My brother and sister-in-law have one too!"
His eyes turn darker. He clenches his jaw, then sets his drink and the cookies on the table. He pulls out a chair. "Sit down."
"Tell me. Now," I insist through gritted teeth.
He steps closer, slides his arm around my waist, and tugs me into him.
A surge of electricity races through every one of my cells. I gasp, my body molding against his looming frame.
His lips graze my lobe as he murmurs in my ear, "I said sit, Fiona."
I glance at his darkening features, illuminated by the faded scar, unsure what to do.
"Sit," he quietly repeats.
I cave, sitting and holding the macchiato too tightly.
The lid pops off, and my hot drink spills over my hands.
"Ouch," I cry out.
"Shit!" Kirill sits, grabs napkins off the table, and secures my hands in his. He dabs the liquid until it disappears onto the paper, and assesses my hand. With relief in his voice, he states, "I don't think you're going to blister or scar."
"How'd you get your scar?" I blurt out, then my chest tightens.
His head jerks backward, and pain crosses his expression. It's a small move but enough to notice. He recovers, putting on a poker face, but grinds his molars.
I almost apologize, but I don't. He's wearing my father's skull design. I want answers, and he hasn't given them to me yet. So it's time he starts talking.
He picks up his coffee, takes a large mouthful, then sets it down, refocusing on me.
I fight the ache in my core with the fear over who he is and what he might be involved in. Since he doesn't answer me, I question, "Did you know my father?"
He maintains his silence and takes another sip of coffee, studying me.
Tension builds between us, creating an intense anger inside me, pushing me to the point I might explode.
I'm tired of asking for the truth about my father and getting nowhere. No one lets me in on anything. Not my mother, Dante, Sean, or even Zara. It's not even her father, and she has more information about my dad than I do.
I fume, "I want answers."
"It's not the right time," he declares.
Shock fills me. "Not the right time? You have my father's mark on you, and you have the audacity to tell me it's not the right time?!"
"Keep your voice down," he reprimands.
"No. Don't you dare tell me what to do!" I cry out.
Disapproval appears in his gaze, and he pins it on me, breathing through his nose.
"Tell me," I demand.
He doesn't move for a moment, then unwinds his scarf from his neck. He leans forward, loops it behind my neck, and secures the soft cashmere around me. He grabs the material in his hand and tugs me closer.
The ache resurfaces, numbing out the anger.
Kirill's hot breath teases my lips. He warns, "When I say it's not the right time, I mean it. It was nice having you run into me again. Don't forget to try the cookie. Have a good day, Fiona." He releases me and rises.
Tropes:
- 👑Secret Society
- 👑Dark Mafia
- 👑Arranged Marriage
- 👑Beauty and the Beast
- 👑Secret Identity
- 👑Love Letters
- 👑Family Enemies
- 👑Age Gap
- 👑Forbidden Love
- 👑Emotional Scars
- 👑Morally Grey
⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ "I literally could not put this book down. I added it to my tbr library, while I was in another series. As soon I opened up this book. Not only was I pulled back into it from all the other series before it. It's like I went back in time to remembering."-Reviewer
⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐"Fabulously written. I cried, laughed, grasp my pearls and said some cuss words. If you liked book 1, you'll love book 2."-Reviewer
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