Unwilling Bride (Married to the Underworld CEO)

Author: [writers hub]

The heavy oak doors of Ragnar's study closed with a soft thud behind Zara, sealing her within the cold grandeur of his domain. The lingering scent of his expensive cologne and the metallic tang of unspoken danger filled the air. "It's a fight for survival. And you, unwilling bride, are on my side of the battlefield." His words, a chilling declaration of war, still echoed in her ears. A part of her, the logical, self-preservation part, screamed in protest. Another, however, felt a strange, morbid fascination.

Ragnar watched her, his expression unreadable, as if assessing a new, unpredictable variable in a complex equation. He picked up his phone, his thumb flying across the screen, barking out a series of terse commands in rapid-fire Korean that Zara couldn't fully comprehend, but the severity of his tone left no doubt of their urgency. He was deploying his forces, his "Shadow Wolves," protecting her family. The grim relief that washed over her was overwhelming. He truly was a king, even if his kingdom was built on shadows and secrets.

"Sit," he commanded, gesturing to a leather armchair across from his desk. It wasn't an invitation. Zara sank into the plush cushions, her legs still weak from the adrenaline of the confrontation. She watched him, mesmerized by the sheer force of his presence. He was a storm of contained power, terrifying yet compelling.

He finished his calls, placing the phone precisely on the desk. "Now," he began, his voice flat, devoid of emotion, "every detail. From the moment you received that call. The exact words. The background sounds. Everything."

Zara recounted the terrifying experience, her voice gaining strength as she relived the fear for Hana. She described the distorted voice, the chilling laughter, the specific threat, and the sickeningly familiar lullaby. She then presented the broken jade dragon, watching his eyes darken further as he examined the precisely fractured head.

Ragnar listened without interruption, his gaze never leaving her face, absorbing every nuance, every flicker of fear in her eyes. When she finished, the silence stretched, heavy with his unspoken thoughts.

"Bondi," he finally said, his voice a low growl, "is an ambitious snake. He craves my position in the syndicate. Kim Conglomerate is his corporate backing, leveraging his dirty work for their own gain. They've been circling, looking for a weakness. You, Zara Jones, were meant to be that weakness. A public scandal, a financial ruin, perhaps even a tragic 'accident' to compromise me." His words were cold, analytical, chillingly precise. "The prototype was merely the ignition point. The marriage, a forced counter-move. But now… they've escalated."

He slammed his fist, lightly, on the desk, the soft thud startling Zara. "To threaten my family, however tangential, through my wife... that crosses a line. A line they will regret." The implicit possessiveness in "my wife" sent an odd jolt through Zara.

"Your family?" she scoffed, a bitter laugh escaping her. "I'm your contract wife. A pawn. They're using me to get to you. And you used me to protect your empire. We're even, aren't we?"

Ragnar's eyes narrowed, a dangerous glint in their depths. "There is no 'even' in my world, Zara. Only debts, and their repayment. You are now tied to me, irrevocably. And what is mine, I protect. Fiercely." His gaze bored into hers. "You will be safe within these walls. Your family will be safe. But you will earn it."

"Earn it?" Zara retorted, her defiance flaring. "By playing your dutiful wife? By being your human shield?"

"By being smart," Ragnar corrected, his voice sharp. "By observing. By listening. By trusting no one but me within these walls. You inadvertently triggered this conflict, Zara. You will help me end it." He leaned forward, his elbows on the desk, his dark eyes fixed on her. "You are not just a pawn anymore. You are leverage. And if you're leverage, you need to understand the game. Do you wish to understand, or would you prefer to remain blind and helpless?"

The choice, once again, was no choice at all. Helplessness was a fate she refused. She might hate him, but she wouldn't be a victim. A reluctant, desperate curiosity began to stir within her. "What do you want me to do?"

A faint, almost imperceptible smirk touched Ragnar's lips. "I want you to be my eyes and ears. My legitimate cover. And perhaps... my confidante. You have a unique perspective, Zara. An outsider's eye. And that, in my world, can be more valuable than any weapon." He rose, moving towards a hidden safe behind a bookshelf. As he opened it, a faint click resonated, and Zara caught a glimpse of what lay within: not just documents, but a glint of steel, cold and metallic.

"Your education," Ragnar stated, retrieving a sleek, encrypted tablet, "begins now." He handed it to her, his fingers brushing hers. The cold metal felt impossibly heavy. "Consider this your new curriculum. Every detail of Botermet Industries. Key players. Our enemies. And a crash course in the politics of this city. All of it." His eyes, hard and unyielding, met hers. "You wanted to know the game? Welcome to the battlefield, Unwilling Bride. Let's see if you can survive being Ragnar Botermet's queen.