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
Rosita’s POVI stared in silent horror as Romano sat beside me in the backseat, his strong arm draped possessively around my shoulder. A phone was pressed to his ear, and he puffed away on a massive weed stick, allowing the thick, hot smoke to drift through the enclosed car.The acrid smoke stung my eyes and made it hard to breathe. Coughing, I covered my nose, but Romano seemed unbothered, focused on his conversation."I’m on my way to have some fun with my lady," he growled into the phone. "Don't mess things up while I'm gone. If anyone comes looking for me, especially Scorpion, you know what to do."Unable to stand the suffocating atmosphere any longer, I acted out, knocking the weed from his fingers. It clattered to the floor as his violet eyes narrowed on me."What the hell is your problem, little angel?" he demanded, his lips puckered with annoyance. "Are you ready to talk to me now?"My mouth fell open when a ball of emotion curled up in my throat and refused to budge. Ignoring
Author’s POV Silvia tugged at the rubber band holding her long red hair in a ponytail, allowing the crimson locks to fall down her back. Strolling into the security room, she felt a bit lightheaded—the aftereffects of the drugs that had taken over her body during Ximena's attack. She had tried in vain to protect Rosita, fighting to keep the young woman safe. But Ximena's forces had overpowered her, flooding her system with the debilitating drugs. Now, she was determined to find out what had happened to Deangelo. But Hugo had been vague, simply stating that his mother had taken their boss and that Silvia had nothing to worry about—he'd be back in a few days. The moment her eyes landed on Miguel's lifeless body, slumped over his desk, she let out a high-pitched scream. The head of security, one of her closest friends in this place, was dead, his clothes soaked in dried blood. Miguel’s head had been smashed open like a coconut, and his pink brain was on full display. His right ch
Rosita’s POV I fought back the stinging tears as I looked across at Dolores, seated on the small couch before me. Her green eyes were brimming with unshed tears, her expression one of intense sorrow. Grasping my hands, Dolores spoke of trying to find me for months since my disappearance. But she abruptly cut herself off, refusing to complete the speech. I frowned, curious as to what she was hiding. "What about my father?" I pressed, unable to stop myself. "Have you seen him? How is he doing? Is he eating properly?" Dolores shook her head, wiping at her eyes. "He…he is fine. He is living well, although his only daughter has been missing for months. I promise you, whatever he is going through isn’t as bad as what I’m going through. I’m not just being called a whore…" Her voice broke into a sob. "I’m actually one, Rosie." A salty trickle snaked its way down my spine and shocked me into a frozen stupor. I gasped, stunned. My pure, hardworking best friend, a whore? It was so unli
Author’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