"Finders keepers," Deangelo growled, his voice all sharp edges. "I found her first, commoners, she belongs to me. The only reason she's still breathing is because I saved her from that fucking fire." Romano snorted, pushing his way further inside. "You think you can just claim her like that? She's not a damn trophy, Scorpion." Fernando gave a series of hand gestures in sign language. Deangelo translated, "You may have found her, but that does not make her yours. We have a stake here, Papi." Vincenzo's voice cut like a knife through the tension. "This isn't some playground game. She's a person, not a prize to be fought over?" As their voices rose, they suddenly fell silent, snapping their eyes to Rosita. She was rushing towards the door. DeAngelo's eyes narrowed as he took a step towards her. "Little peasant, don't even think about it." **** Rosita's life has been anything but ordinary. Homeschooled and sheltered by her overprotective father after a near-fatal stalking incident, she dreams of escaping to college and pursuing her passion for music. But her father's plans to enroll her in an online university leave her feeling trapped and desperate. On the day, she finally decides to away, a fire overtakes their home, trapping her in her room. Just when she thinks all hope is lost, her metal door is broken down—not by her father, but by Deangelo Luis Valladares, the most-feared mafia drug lord in the whole of Mexico. With an intriguing, sinister smile, he extends his hand to Rosita through the smoke-filled room. Will Rosita take his hand and let him save her, or will she be taken by force? Can a breathtaking beauty like Rosita survive in a world ruled by mafia dons who live like kings and control Mexico City?
View MoreAuthor’s POV A small, black rat ran across the floor of the women's cell, causing the inmates to scream and scramble in a panic. The rat swiftly ran into the dark corridors, where the police officers started yelling and shouting at each other to catch it. Their eyes followed its path as it headed towards the men's cell. The moment the rat crossed the metal bars of the cell, Silvia slammed her right foot down with a grunt, crushing it beneath her. She tossed her hair back, a gesture that somehow intensified her already intimidating presence. "Fuck, I can't believe that this is what my life has been reduced to," she muttered, her voice filled with disgust. Hugo burst into laughter, his laugh bounced around the cell and scraped against Silvia's skin. "Hahaha, this is what we get for going against our boss," he teased. "And it's refreshing to see you mistaken for a dude and thrown in the male cell with me and these bunch of losers." His gaze swept arrogantly over the other male pris
Author’s POV As they continued kissing, her body pressed against his, his erection increased, pressing against her immaculate thigh. Ximena suppressed a shiver, forcing herself to keep her mouth on his, to return his passionate kisses. After a few more moments, he broke the kiss, pulling back slightly. His eyes were hooded with lust, his gaze hungry. "Now," he growled. "I want to fuck you here and now, inside this bathtub, and you are not going to say anything or object, because when I am finished with you, you will be begging for more." "O-Okay," Ximena agreed nervously. She knew this was her chance, her opportunity to regain the upper hand. She just needed him to lower his guard, just a little bit, and then she would strike. Alessandro's hands found her ample breasts, kneading the flesh. His slender fingers slid under the lace bra, stroking her sensitive nipples. Ximena couldn't help but gasp, arching into his touch. She moved, straddling him as she ground her hips against
Author’s POV A blanket of darkness concealed the night sky, and the moon shone over the roofs of the houses in the city. Bright headlights cut through the pitch-black darkness as a car, a fancy black Rolls Royce, passed through the magnificent gates of a heavily guarded roadside mansion. A group of men in charcoal grey suits, rifles held at their sides, stood in the courtyard, their faces serious and expressionless. The car rolled to a stop in front of them, Ximena sat frozen in the passenger seat, her hand closed tightly around the door handle. She took a deep, steady breath, about to throw open the door and confront the men. "Ma…" Vincenzo's voice, strained with agony, stopped her. She turned to look at him, he was pale, clutching the side of his belly. His hand, wrapped in a bloodied bandage, trembled slightly. "Are you sure about this?" he inquired, his voice lower than usual. "The last time I tried to reason with that scumbag, he wasn’t gentle, he has a terrible temper.
Deangelo’s POV The cold night breeze thrashed through the open bathroom window, pebbling my skin with goosebumps. I fought to keep my eyes open, the lack of sleep since the doctor dropped that bombshell pressing heavily on me. I grabbed the beauty's pale cheeks, forcing her mouth open, and tossed the painkiller pills inside. I opened the bottle of water I had in my hand, using my teeth, and began pouring it down her throat. She struggled, her body arching against the ropes I used to tie her hands to the showerhead of the bathtub. I pinched her lips shut, forcing her to swallow the pills. Her eyes were hollow, and it was clear she was even skinnier than before. A lightbulb flashed in my head, a risky, desperate plan, but it was the only option. It was the only way I could save her life. I stepped away from her, pulling my phone from my pocket, my hands shaking nonstop. I turned it on and quickly dialed President Victoria's number. The phone rang and rang before she finally pi
Author’s POV Romano growled, an animalistic sound like a wild animal, and pressed the barrel crown of his handgun against Fernando's delicate forehead. "Get out of my fucking house!" he yelled. Fernando met his gaze, his expression indifferent, showing no hint of fear. "Stop acting like a little bitch," he said calmly. "Come with me to Italy, mi amigo. Our flight leaves in an hour. You are the only one who can save her life, you don't need to tell me what you poisoned her with or how you did it. Just give me the antidote, if you have one." Don Romano cocked the gun, his finger tightening on the trigger. "If you don't get out of my sight this instant, I will forget that you are my best friend and send a bullet through your goddamn skull!" A masculine chuckle escaped Fernando’s lungs, though it held no humor. "You can't shoot me, amigo. You don't have the balls, and I never wanted to be friends with you in the first place..." His voice trailed off, and he continued, "You were th
Author’s POV Stefano looked away, not wanting to be affected by her eyes. "You have no right, absolutely no right, to ask me about our daughter. I begged you not to leave me, not to leave her! She was so young and fragile. She desperately needed her mother. But what did you do?" he asked with a scoff. "You left and never looked back. And now, after all these years, when she no longer needs a mother in her life, you have the nerve, the audacity, to come here saying you want to see her? It's too late for you to act like a mother figure. I will never forgive you for what you—" She cut him off, moving closer to the bed, placing her hand on the edge, her voice loaded with emotion. "We both know I left because of you, Stefano. I couldn't stand you when you were drunk! We both know how much you abused me whenever you were drunk. Rosita might not have understood then, but she would now. I wanted to see her because I heard you didn't give her a good childhood, that you ruined her life, and
Author’s POV Stefano's eyes snapped open, his gaze fixed on the sterile white ceiling of the unfamiliar room. The periodic beeping of a machine nearby and the faint throbbing in his right arm, along with the sharp prick of a needle, told him he was in a hospital bed. He yanked the oxygen mask from his face and sat up, his head swimming. He looked around the empty room, a wave of nausea crashing through him. He reached for the IV tubes connected to his arm, yanking them out with a rush of anger. A sharp pain shot through his arm as the needle tore free, causing blood to well up. He ignored it, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He tried to stand, but something strong pulled him back down. His stomach flipped as he slowly looked down, his heart beating rapidly. His eyes widened in shock as he realized that his legs and hands were chained to the bed. He was completely trapped; there was no escape. A choked scream escaped his lips, filled with frustration and rage. T
Deangelo’s POV Sweat coated my shirt to my back as I pounded hard on the door of the room where the hotel staff said the doctor was staying. The love of my life was dying, and I was losing it, slowly losing my fucking mind. The image of her writhing in pain before I left our room burned into my memory, disturbing me. The door finally swung open, revealing an older man in a bathrobe, his eyes scanning me from top to bottom. He said something in Italian, his voice spiked with irritation. "Do you speak English?" I questioned, my voice hoarse. He nodded. "Yes… I do a little. Who are you?" "It doesn't matter," I declared, trying to keep the worry from my voice. "You need to come with me, now. My girlfriend is dying, and she needs medical attention as soon as possible." A woman's voice called out from inside the room, "Honey, who is that?" The doctor glanced back into the room. "It's a patient," he replied. "There is an emergency. I will be back in a few minutes, I promise." "
Author’s POV The mafia don’s grey eyes widened in horror as he caught sight of his mother. His hips came to a stop as he pulled himself out of the woman, leaving her lying on her stomach, her ass raised, and her hole filled with his sperm. Ximena couldn't tear her eyes away from the sight. There was cum spilling out of the woman's well-shaved pussy, a large pool of white fluid spreading across the carpet beneath her. Her son's huge cock was slick with it, coated in their combined juices. He stared at his mother, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. "M-Mother," he stammered, his voice hoarse. Ximena shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. She was still dazed by what she had just seen, her brain struggling to process the sight. Finally, she found her voice and blurted out, "Oh my goodness, son!" she shouted, her voice echoing in the room. "What the heck are you doing?! You should be welcoming our guests, not... not this!" "Ma!" he whined, looking anxiously
Rosita’s POV As I sat in front of my bedroom mirror, brushing out the long, pitch-black strands of my hair, a soft melody spilled from my lips—a song I had composed myself, a celebration of the freedom I was about to recover. In just a few short minutes, I would turn 24 years old, the age my father had promised to allow me to step outside the boundaries of this golden cage I had called home for the past decade. After the incident that had occurred when I was just 12, he had kept me locked away, homeschooling me and even arranging for my college education to be completed online. But now, the day of my freedom had arrived. I could hear the excited activity of the servants downstairs, preparing the mansion for my birthday party. My father always permitted me to step out of my room whenever he was present, though I knew his overprotective nature came from a place of genuine concern. Still, I couldn't help but feel trapped, longing for the opportunity to experience the world beyond th...
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