Deangelo’s POV I stared at the bottle of Romano's favorite wine in the backseat of the car, wiping off a bit of dust. I wasn't entirely sure why I was here, why I felt the need to see if Romano was still alive. But the look of disgust on the beauty's face, calling me a murderer, echoed in my mind. "You really don't need to do this, Papi," Hugo said from the front seat. "We both know Romano won't let you in after what you did to him, you aren't the type to be bothered about what other people think about you." I took a deep breath and sighed, the weight of the matter pressing down on me. "I know, but I want to make amends. I made a mistake shooting him just because he refused to give me the beautiful peasant, a senora has never come between us before." Hugo nodded. "I'm glad you see that. It's unlike you to feel remorse for a murder, especially of a don. But I will support whatever you want to do, here is a little something for protection." He concluded, taking out a pistol and gi
Author’s POV Stefano’s voice pierced through the air, strained with pain, as two of Vincenzo’s henchmen ruthlessly gripped his arms, their grip like iron handcuffs. Each time the leather whip hit his bare chest, it left angry, red marks on his already bruised skin. Blood mixed with sweat as it ran down his forehead. Despite his legs being chained to the floor, he refused to give up. Gathering all his strength, he slammed his forehead into the face of the henchman on his right. The sound of his bones breaking echoed as the man’s head snapped back, momentarily shocking him into silence. Stefano then kicked the other henchman hard in the dick, the edge of the chains adding to the pain. The man fell to the floor, screaming in pain. Stefano’s gaze darted to Vincenzo, who was lying unconscious on a stretcher while his men worked to carry him out of there. "Boss, please, hang in there!" shouted one henchman, fear filling his voice. Thick red blood pooled beneath Vincenzo, the sight i
Deangelo’s POV My breath caught in my throat as my eyes landed on the beauty’s unconscious body on the cold room floor. Her skin was extremely pale, her legs, nose, and ears discolored and ice-cold. My stomach flipped, did somersaults, and dove right to my crotch. I staggered backward, nearly falling, but Miguel broke my fall. Rushing to the beauty's side, I tapped her chill cheek, calling out, "Wake up, little peasant." But she didn't move, her eyes remaining closed. Fingers shaking, I checked her breathing—faint, but there. I lifted her gently into my arms, cradling her fragile body as if she might crack like an egg. I ran out of the room as if my life depended on it and barked out orders to Miguel. "Get the doctor to come here as soon as possible!" My heart hammered with terror as I carried the beauty to my bedroom, kicking open the door. Placing her on the bed, I covered her with layer after layer of thick blankets, racing to my dressing room for more. I collected more b
Author’s POV Dolores's legs trembled as she raised the coffee mug to her lips, eyes darting side to side, alert for any signs of danger. Her usually immaculate appearance was messy, her clothes damaged, and her hair in a mess—a clear sign of the torture she had endured. Stefano shook his head as he watched her, knowing better than to inquire about the horrors she had faced. The frightened, savage shine in her green eyes told him she was a wild animal, forever vigilant in a dangerous jungle. The gruff voice of the Don of security, known as Hawk, cut through the long, hard silence. "Damn, amigo, I think that chica needs medical and mental attention. Because she is acting like the people at the mental asylum, why did you bring her here?" Stefano frowned, turning to his old friend. "No, she is not mad. You are the one who's gone mad. Tell me, how do you think the people at the mental hospital behave?" The two men burst into laughter, hugging for a brief second. Though Stefano of
Author’s POV Dolores fell to the floor at Vincenzo's feet, her hands clasped in plea. "Please, spare me! I knew nothing of Stefano's plan. I didn't want to leave with him, he forced me to go with him!" she pleaded. Vincenzo gazed down at her, a smug smirk curving his lips. "I saw what happened on my CCTV. You are useful to me." He gestured to his henchmen. "Take her away." Dolores grinned gratefully. "Thank you, Lord Vincenzo." She allowed the men to grip her arms, dragging her out of the office. On the main floor of the police station, Dolores was shocked to see the other employees frozen like statues, beads of sweat glistening on their foreheads as they were held at gunpoint by a group of Vincenzo's men in red suits. Vincenzo walked over to a remote, pressing a button that caused thick curtains to fall over the glass walls, thrusting the entire office into a soft light and secure from any eye outside the walls. Hawk was pinned to the wall, his hands cuffed behind his bac
Author’s POV As the experienced henchmen spread out, securing the gym, Deangelo's heart threatened to smash free from his chest as the sight of his father’s henchmen dragged him back in time. Deep down, he prayed it was his self-absorbed and isolated father who had come—the arrogant patriarch he had fled years ago after their brutal fight on the night his mother died. Though he tried to act unbothered, he yearned for his father's approval, craving an apology from the man who had never once come looking for him. Even after physically and emotionally hurting him. But the sparkle of white stiletto heels destroyed those hopes. Deangelo's lip curled in disgust as his stepmother came into view, her bright smile making his skin crawl. "Son!" she called, her sweet voice echoing through the spacious place. Ximena rushed toward him, her arms outstretched, but Deangelo side-stepped her attempted hug, scowling as she settled for an innocent peck on the cheek. "What are you doing here,
Rosita’s POV The loud blasting of classical music jolted me awake, the loudness of sound assaulting my ears. As I sat up, blinking in the bright light, I took in my surroundings. I was on a small bed in what appeared to be a massive warehouse. Dozens of other women, around my age or older, were stirring on similar beds, murmuring to one another in confusion. "Where are we?" the woman next to me whispered. I shook my head, clutching it as a sharp pain throbbed. "I... I have no idea. I'm just as lost as you." I answered. Racking my brain, I tried to recall the events of the previous night. The memory of the big mafia man picking me up came rushing back, and my heart clenched. This was not the freedom I had hoped for, what the hell was going on? Perhaps I had trusted Hugo a little too much. Abruptly, a group of thugs marched through multiple doors lining the warehouse walls, some carrying large guns, others carrying a basket of tools. One brave woman approached them, demanding
Deangelo’s POV EIGHT HOURS EARLIER… My eyes snapped open, and I found myself staring up at a grayish, unusual ceiling. As memories of what had happened flooded my mind, a sharp pain pierced my head. My beautiful peasant—I had seen her being manhandled by one of my stepmother’s henchmen. My heart ached at the thought that something terrible might have happened to her. Sitting up, I took in my surroundings. I was in some kind of wet, smelly dungeon—even worse than the one I'd imprisoned Silvia and the beauty in before. There were no windows, and the heavy iron door had no visible means of looking out. Dragging myself to the door, I ran my fingers over the rough surface, my mind racing with a million thoughts. Had Ximena abducted me because I'd refused to go with her? Was she taking me to see my isolated father? Shoving my hand into my pocket, I felt a panic slam into my chest at the realization that my phone and lighter were no longer with me. I was completely disconnected fro
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
Author’s POV The moment Rosita pulled the cloth from the stranger's mouth and began struggling with the unique knots that tied her hands to the sink, the stranger gasped for breath and started speaking quickly in Italian. Rosita frowned, completely lost. She didn't understand a single word. "Um...I'm Spanish," Rosita said in English, hoping the woman understood. "I don't speak Italian, but I can speak a little bit of English and Japanese." The color left the woman's face; her small mouth formed an O of shock. "Oh," and switched to Spanish, a relieved expression crossed her. "Don't worry about it; I can also speak Spanish, my parents are mixed. I wanted to say, thank you for coming in, even though I couldn't tell you anything." "I'm glad I could help, even if I thought you were a friend who had suddenly gone missing," Rosita replied, finally managing to loosen the last knot. The stranger's hands were free. "Was...the friend you were looking for a woman with red hair and smo
Author’s POV Queen Ximena looked royal and majestic as she sat on a throne-like chair in an extravagant mansion, the tip of an expensive cigarette glowing between her red lips. A faint smirk played on her lips as a maid, trembling slightly, entered the room with a tray filled with ripe, bright strawberries. The maid squatted before her, offering the tray. Ximena took a long drag of her cigarette, her eyes narrowed, and then delicately picked up a strawberry with her long, manicured fingers. As she placed it in her mouth, the sound of approaching footsteps echoed through the luxurious room. Chewing slowly, her eyes drifted towards the door, instantly locking on Don Vincenzo. He was accompanied by a group of his henchmen, each carrying heavy baggage. Ximena sat up on her chair, her eyes hardening. She pushed the tray away, ignoring the maid who screamed as she lost her balance and fell to the floor, scattering strawberries across the marble floor. She stepped over the fallen
Deangelo's POV"Ignore her," I commented, my fingers dipping between her delicate thighs, sliding into her soaking pussy."You are a bad boy," she whispered, her lips trailing down my neck, her tongue swirling around my pulse point."And you are a bad girl," I teased, my fingers thrusting deep inside her, curling upward, brushing against the spongy spot, eliciting a moan."I think I will have to punish you," I murmured, withdrawing my fingers from her and bringing them to her mouth."Suck it clean, princess," I ordered, forcing my digits between her lips.Her eyes widened and then fluttered shut as she sucked my fingers clean."Mmmm," she hummed, her tongue sliding between each digit, savoring her own taste."Good girl," I praised, pulling my fingers from her mouth, a thin string of saliva connecting us."Deangelo," she whined, her voice barely audible, her head resting against my shoulder."Shhh, Silvia will hear you. Get on your fours, and under no circumstances must you utter a wor