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
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
Rosita’s POV A sharp, shooting pain jolted me awake, and I cried out, sitting up abruptly. A woman was kneeling beside the bed, her rough-skinned hands tending to the angry red burns on the soles of my feet. Instinctively, I tried to pull away, but she shoved my leg back down, glaring at me. "Behave yourself, Perra," she snapped. "My name is Silvia, it's not like I'm some kind of nurse. But my boss insisted I take care of you, so don’t make me do something I would regret." She stuffed a small towel into my mouth, muffling my tortured screams as she applied a pungent ointment to the blistered skin. As I chewed on the fabric, I took the opportunity to study her. Her long, red hair was marked with premature strands of white, and her eyes were covered in heavy black makeup, lending her a decidedly witchlike appearance. A small ring decorated her nose, and multiple earrings lined the shell of each ear. Dressed in a leather crop top and jeans, she had a large, ghostly tattoo on her rig
Rosita’s POV A sudden flood of ice-cold water splashed on my face, which took my breath for a second, and I gasped, my eyes flying open to the sight of Silvia hovering over me, an empty bucket clutched in her hand. "Rise and shine, Perra," she mocked, stepping aside as a figure approached. Deangelo—the man who I never wanted to see again—knelt before me, his piercing blue eye fixed on my face. I flinched, unable to meet his eye. "If it were up to me, I wouldn't let anyone harm someone as beautiful as you," he murmured, a vicious smile playing on his lips. "But since you are the stubborn type, I'm going to have to break that spirit of yours." He paused, gesturing around the empty, filthy room. "As you have seen, it's impossible to escape me. I own this city, the cops, the authorities—they are all in my pocket. It seems you still have a lot to learn about the world." Leaning closer, he locked eyes with me, his voice hardening. "So, if you try to disobey me again, there is no tel
Rosita’s POV The limousine door opened, and a well-dressed security guard extended his hand to assist me in exiting the limo. As I placed my hand in his, he bestowed me with a charming smile. "Welcome to the perfect prosecutors’ award ceremony. It's an honor to have someone as beautiful as you here," he murmured, his grip tightening temporarily. "Beautiful." But his gesture of courtesy was abruptly cut short as Deangelo appeared from the other side of the limo. The guard immediately released my hand, rushing back to his post beside the red carpet that was swarming with excited reporters and screaming fans. Deangelo's fingers closed around my wrist in a tight grasp, and I felt a tingle shoot down my arm at his touch. He led me down the plush carpet, the flashing cameras, and the admiring crowds; it was completely different from the danger that threatened to consume me. As we reached the grand entrance, Deangelo leaned in close, his breath caressing my ear. Secretly, he poi
Deangelo’s POVWith a sigh, I folded my arms across my chest, watching impatiently as my personal doctor administered an injection into the unconscious beauty's delicate arm. I couldn't fathom why she had suddenly fainted—I couldn't very well have her dying on me.The doctor finished his work, carefully tucking the girl's hand back under the blanket. But before he could fully cover her, I snatched the fabric from his grasp, glaring at him."I will handle this," I growled, carefully placing the blanket over her lying body. My gaze lingered on her pale, beautiful face, a frown creasing my brow."Why did she faint?" I demanded, turning to the doctor. "Is she going to be okay?"The man's expression was serious as he met my eye. "Where did you say you knew her from again? Is she another one of your whores? How long have you known her?"I cut him off with a wave of my hand. "Just get to the point, underling."Clearing his throat, the doctor leveled me with a pointed stare. "Um, does she hav
Deangelo’s POVI crossed my legs, making a show of adjusting my eyepatch as I brought the cigarette to my lips, taking a slow, careful drag. My gaze settled on the overweight body of Carlos, seated across from me, his brow furrowed in unconcealed anger."Scorpion," he growled, his voice all sharp edges, "You are the number one billionaire in this city. What do you think the other Dons will say when they find out you have been owing me 50 million pesos for years, and you have refused to pay?"I let out an exhausted sigh. "You know my number one rule is never to let strangers into my home," I replied smoothly. "And you, Carlos, are no stranger."His lips twisted into a scowl. "Then you should know why I deserve that money! You are just oppressing me because you are superior to me. You have got to stop this! I worked hard for those building materials, brick by brick!"I couldn't help but laugh, blowing a cloud of smoke into the air. "If you want your money so badly, commoner, you should
Rosita’s POV My steps echoed through the hollow garage as I approached the black jeep, a deep frown spreading across my face. I couldn't believe Deangelo had the audacity to spank me—me, a lady of noble birth! The memory of his rough palm against my tender flesh still remained, and I shuddered involuntarily.Silvia's voice jolted me from my trance, and I turned to see the bitch placing a small communication device in my right ear. "This will allow us to guide you to the location you need to make the delivery," she explained.I nodded mutely, and Hugo strode forward, opening the driver's side door with a smirk. "Get in," he commanded.Reluctantly, I climbed into the jeep, moving to sit in the passenger seat. But Hugo's voice stopped me."No, what the hell are you doing? You will be driving, Chica," he said, his brow raised. "For your first mission, you will go alone, so the authorities don't get suspicious."I gripped the steering wheel with both hands, letting out a tired sigh. As I
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
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