Rosita’s POV "Fuck off," I snapped, unable to stop myself. "How can you call yourself a human being when you force someone to do things against their will? You are sick in the fucking head!" Deangelo raised his eyebrows. "Now, now, we can’t have that. You are in my territory now, so you will watch your language around me. Don’t forget you are still my prisoner." "I don’t want to be, why can’t you just let me go?!?" I shouted at the top of my lungs. "Never." Deangelo’s visible eye glowed with flames. "You are mine, and I’m not letting you go until I find and kill your nasty old hag." He stepped aside, allowing me to enter the boathouse. His henchmen dragged me past a sleek motorboat, and I caught sight of a large black snake coiled up in the corner of the room. "Is that a…" I trailed off, staring at the dangerous-looking snake. "Yep, little peasant, that’s my pet boa," he grinned. "His name is Lucifer." He gestured to the henchmen, and they dumped me onto the ground. I
Author’s POV "Shit," the client cursed under his breath. "What a waste of goddamn money. I should have known better than to trust a new whore, your boss has a lot of explaining to do, that was absolutely humiliating given the price I paid for her ass." He glanced over at Marco, who was standing beside the bed. "Don't worry, sir, you can come back tomorrow. I will find a new girl. This one wasn't worth the price," he said with a smirk. "Keep the change," the client said as he slapped a few dollar bills on Marco’s bare chest. With that, the client left the room, leaving him alone. It was the next morning, and Dolores still hadn't returned to finish what she started the night before. Marco let out a sigh, running a hand through his thick hair. He had enjoyed fucking the girl, but he was disappointed that the client had gotten upset. He had thought that Dolores would be able to handle him. Marcos grabbed a robe and put it on, tying the rope around his waist as he walked out of t
Author’s POV Dolores watched as Marco left the room, his head down and a sad expression on his face. She knew he would have done anything to save her, but Vincenzo's threats were not empty. She had seen what he was capable of, and she knew she had to do whatever he asked, or she would end up dead. "Get on your knees, you filthy whore," Vincenzo commanded, releasing his grip on her hair. Dolores did as she was told, dropping to her knees in front of him. Her eyes were fixed on the bulge in his pants, and she knew what he was going to ask her to do. She could see the hunger in his eyes, and the thought made her stomach turn. "Do you know how much money you cost me, you ungrateful slut?" Vincenzo questioned, his voice harsh. "I brought you here, saved you from that awful place, and this is how you repay me?" "Please, spare me, sir, I will make it up to you," she pleaded, her voice shaking with fear. "Yes, you will," he commented, his fingers undoing his pants. "You will suck
Rosita’s POV A smile tugged at my lips as I watched my father in action, prosecuting the young, seemingly innocent man accused of murder. "He is not innocent, your honor, he is a serial killer. Maybe the woman saw something she shouldn’t have, and he didn’t want her to expose him, so he broke into her apartment in the middle of the night and killed her." My father argued, with a serious face, firm in his belief that this man had committed the heinous crime. "He should be arrested and put behind bars before he gets a chance to kill someone else, because there is nothing that connects him to being in that building at that moment in—" "Objection, your honor!" The defendant’s lawyer interrupted, and the judge permitted him to speak. "I have evidence that my client was in that building to see a friend, and he mistook her house for his friend’s, but he didn’t kill her, he found her already dead..." He trailed off and fished out a phone from his pocket. When the defendant's lawyer p
Deangelo’s POV A much younger version of myself was in the middle of the club, dancing intensely with a group of friends, including my trusted bodyguard and best friend, Fernando. I was sweating, a bottle of cold beer clutched in my hand as I moved my hips to the upbeat music. Abruptly, my gaze landed on a beautiful girl, dancing alone, her hips shaking seductively as she shook out her long hair. She was wearing an extremely short black skirt that showcased her flawless thighs and left little to the imagination. One of my friends tossed an arm around my shoulder, laughing gently. "Wow, I see what is going on here. You like her, don’t you, Scorpion! You are the prince of Mexico—you can have any señora you want. Don't be shy; go to her!" I snorted. "We planned this as a guys' night out. I have already gone against my father's wishes to be here. I just want to spend time with my friends, not some chica." My friend burst into laughter, the others quickly joining in. "Forget abou
Rosita’s POV The large bean bag that reeked of weed and shit was yanked from my head, and my wig fell off, my dirty hair falling down around my face. As I tried to stand, I realized I was bound to a wooden chair, my hands tied behind the back and my legs secured to the legs. A hand reached forward, gently brushing the strands from my face, and I lifted my gaze to meet Romano's gorgeous smile. "My angel, aren't you just happy to see me?" he murmured. He leaned in closer, studying my face. "Hmm, I didn't know you were such a hot commodity. Word is on the streets that the don of whores also sent his men after you. He's rarely interested in women, but he went to desperate measures, even infiltrating a courthouse, to capture you." Romano's fingers trailed down my cheek. "I wish I had found you first. I would have hidden your beautiful face from the world, because men out there are hungry wolves." "The only hungry wolf I see is you, asshole!" I snapped my teeth as he withdrew his
Deangelo’s POV The sound of gunshots echoed from inside the courthouse, people running out in fear. Their faces were soaked with sweat, the kind that reeked of fear. Gripping two loaded assault rifles, I stepped out of my car, my henchmen rushing out of the accompanying black jeeps that took over the front of the court with Silvia among them. She slammed my car door shut with a quick kick, flashing a glimpse of her blue lace panties beneath her extremely short leather skirt. I quickly averted my gaze, following her as we pushed past the terrified crowd toward the courthouse entrance. The loud wail of police sirens pierced the air, but I paid no attention to them. Looking into the main floor of the courthouse, I took in the sight before me—the bullet-riddled walls, dead bodies of security guards strewn across the floor, and the stubborn bang of gunfire. Pressing the communication chip in my ear, I demanded an update from Hugo. His ragged breathing popped through the line. "I...I
Author’s POV Stefano sat at the table, his untouched picanha steak growing cold as he stared miserably at the numerous empty and half-finished beer bottles. His mind was consumed by the loss of the important documents and cash he had been entrusted with—a million pesos' worth of bribe money from his client. But his thoughts were equally troubled by the mysterious pregnant woman he had tried to protect, only to be abducted alongside her. Though she was of no relation to him, there was something about her that stimulated a paternal instinct inside him, a reminder of his own beloved daughter. Stefano shook his head, reprimanding himself for seeing his daughter in every woman he encountered. He reached for the bottle in front of him, only to have his boss snatch it away. "That's enough alcohol for today," the older man scolded. "I invited you here for dinner, not to drink yourself to death. I know it hasn't been easy, but you need to think about your health. We still need you aliv
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
Author’s POV The moment her eyes met his set of golden ones, she gasped and stepped back. It was—it was Don Fernando. The balcony window was wide open, letting in a rush of cool air. "W-What are you doing here?" she inquired, her voice cracking ever so slightly. "How did you get into the mansion? Did you come to abduct me? To take revenge for what we did to you the other time?" He cut her off, his expression cold. "I didn't come to kidnap you. I have something more important to do." "More important than me?" She said, moving closer to him, running a finger down his chest in a desperate attempt to hide her fear. "You could… Kidnap me; take me anywhere you want. I wouldn't mind. I'm tired of this place, and I'm willing to take anything you throw at me. You can stab me, spank me, or try to strangle me to death, for all I care." He stared at her in disgust, grabbing her hand and pushing it away from his chest. "I liked you better when you were innocent and didn't want me. There
Author’s POV The bright morning sun streamed through the window, its strong golden rays touching Dolores’s face. The warmth felt good on her skin, a brief moment of comfort until a sharp, unbearable pain burned through her stomach. The memory of being held down on the bed, Madam Dinero’s henchmen standing over her as the needle sank into her arm, came back with disgusting clarity. The pain increased, and Dolores screamed, a deep, harsh sound that echoed through the walls. She fell off the bed, landing hard on her face. She cried as she tried to push herself up from the floor, but her limbs felt weak and unresponsive. The pain in her stomach was unbearable, a burning, twisting pain that robbed her of her strength. She clutched at her abdomen, crying out, "My baby!" Hot tears streamed down her pale cheeks as she remembered the deal she had made with Vincenzo. Now, there was no way out of this hell, no escape from this whorehouse. She felt a warm, sticky liquid trickling down
Deangelo’s POVSix Hours Earlier…The taxi's horn blasted, yanking me out of my worried thoughts. I turned towards the sound, spotting the driver leaning out the window, his face painted with frustration."Hey, uomo, are you going or not? It’s very late. I’m tired of waiting. You are wasting my time, I could have used it to pick up other customers!" He yelled in a violent stream of Italian, a language I couldn't understand, but his anger was obvious.I fished out my phone, fumbling with the screen. It was pathetic; I should have brought someone who spoke Italian. Miguel… God, I missed him. My heart clenched at the memory of his death. I opened the translator app, knowing I had to calm this guy before he drove off and left us stranded.Walking over to him, I held the phone up to his face as he spoke into it. The app let out a translation of his outburst. "If you don’t want to go, take your luggage out of my car, because it’s almost midnight and my working hours are almost up.""Take ou
Author's POV Dolores paced anxiously inside her room, a phone pressed to her right ear, nervously chewing on her fingernails. She was nervously waiting for Bruno to answer, desperate to talk to him. She still hadn't been able to recover from the shock of him getting married to another woman so soon. His phone rang for the hundredth time, unanswered. "Pick up the damn phone! Pick up! Pick up!" She muttered to herself, pleading with him to pick up, but he stubbornly refused to answer. Abruptly, a loud knock reverberated on the door. Dolores froze, ice trickling through her veins at the thought that she had been caught. She had stolen the sleeping Madam Dinero's phone to call Bruno, and it seemed the old witch was awake now. She ignored the knock, desperately redialing his number. The banging on the door increased. When the call failed to connect again, she fought the urge to toss the phone across the room. A voice came from behind the door, deep and familiar, a male voice. I