Continued: "Come on?" I call her, reaching down to rip my top up and over my head. I need a shower, too. We have an engagement to attend, so surely this can be classed as killing two birds with one stone? And we're saving on water whilst we're at it, which is always a plus when you live with so many people. "You want to wash me?" She asks me shyly, not having moved from that spot by the door. "I should have done it the moment I made you come, Bee. Now come on, we have things to do and places to be," I grate out, seedlings of doubt playing havoc on my decision-making. Should I really be doing this? Encouraging this weird dynamic, I don't understand. I've never showered with one of the girls; I usually deem it to be too intimate. Even with those thoughts, I drop my jeans and then my pants, staring at Bianca as I do. That heat from my office travels up her bare neck and into her cheeks. Her eyes are zeroed in on one place on me in particular. "Oh, god," she moans in the ba
Continued: "Get your hands off her," Franko demands with a glare worthy of instant death. "No," I state. "Franko, please," Bianca's voice comes soft and breathy, pissing me the fuck off instantly. I fight looking at her, but I'm unsuccessful. Thankfully, she's looking to the floor, her attention very much not on him as I expected. "Ah, Franko Densel, it's lovely to see you again," Luca's thick and domineering voice comes from beside us. He and Emma joined this little altercation before it really started. "Emma, you can't allow this. There was a deal between your father and mine; Bianca belongs to me," Franko pleads, his desperation obvious and ridiculous. Turning my body away, I pretend I'm more interested in the men moving around the room, but I'm not. I want to snap the boy's neck to prevent him from ever laying eyes on Bianca again, let alone placing any part of him on her. "I'm not my father; I won't force a marriage on her," Emma replies. "You can't stop it; the a
Bianca "Some fucking choice! Fuck, I hate you," I shout at Emma as if my words were a dagger flying through the air. I say them to harm her, intent on expelling this anger. Franko looked utterly heartbroken seeing me enter with Niko, but the ironic thing was the feelings I felt towards his upset—that was nothing but relief. At first, the prospect of having the assurance that I had a husband and my life was planned seemed attainable, but the more I got to know Franko, the more I realised he was just like his father. Dangerous. I hated that I had been promised to him and that I had a life planned out with him. I hated that we were forced to speak about our relationship, our marriage, and the children we would have. Even so, it was set, and I was accepting of it. And now? Now I have Niko. Perhaps. Maybe? What am I saying? The only route I should be concentrating on is escape. All the same, the afternoon flies through my mind. Seeing him naked, his member hanging low and to t
Continued:"Come on, Bee? Let me have what I want, and I promise to give it in return," he states. His voice wavers and he sways just a little. "You're high," I remark. I'm not looking for confirmation; it's as evident as the blue sky. "I'm horny," he summarises. "No," I say unsurely. No, in this life, is never met well, and now is no different. Niko stills, his whole body stiffening at that singular two-letter word that entirely stops whatever he was fishing for. It takes him time to recover, and I sit like a duck waiting for the other shoe to drop. His fingers brush my cheek, his thumb stroking my lips. My breath catches as I stare into his endless pools of deep, earthy brown eyes. "Once we marry, that word will be forbidden," he whispers. "Even then, Niko, I can say...no." "You can say it, little Bee. Doesn't mean it'll hold any weight," he smirks. "Fuck off!" I all but yell. "Shout it louder, darling. Let everyone know we're having a lovers tiff," he laughs. But the la
LucaAs I step out of my car, my shoes hit the pavement with a steady rhythm that synchronises with my heartbeat. I'm standing in the driveway of the house where I grew up, but I'm about to leave the comfort of the familiar behind and make my way to my father's office, where he summoned me earlier this evening. The halls of my parent's home are dimly lit, but the soft glow is enough to guide me as I walk towards my father's office, wondering what he wants to talk to me about this time. I've been meeting with him regularly lately, and while it's become routine, I can't help but feel a sense of unease every time I step into his office under his domain. You see, I've recently taken on the role of underboss in the family business, preparing to become the next Don of the Italian Mafia. It's a position I never expected to find myself in, having grown up as a half-Italian boy in London, feeling like I only fit in with myself. Looking back, it's clear that everyone was afraid of me and, mo
EmmaThis meeting went differently than I wish it would. Yet, as I listen to Luca hiss his annoyance with my presence, I internally laugh that this is precisely how I imagined he would react to me.After being told to sit back down, I internalise my musings, thinking back to that day six long years ago.As a child, I didn't understand the concept of love, I don't think any child can. That was until I met the boy who lived just next door to me. He was older than me, but we grew up together, and as time passed, my feelings for him only grew more substantial and more robust. He was an ever-present embodiment of protection, lurking often and saving me from myself just as frequently. I fell for him completely and utterly, with a deep emotion that I couldn't comprehend then.However, tragedy struck just as quickly as my love for him had blossomed. My father was threatened with a gun to his head by his very best friend and none other than Luca's father to get me away from the boy I was betro
LucaWhile driving, I made a terrible mistake by allowing one of my hands to stray from the steering wheel. Even though it was a minor lapse in judgment, I feel a sense of guilt and regret. However, I refuse to let the hurt inflicted by the woman sitting next to me control my thoughts and actions after all these years. As a soulless killing machine, I have long buried my emotions, but now they are resurfacing, and I won't let them consume me. It's clear to me that she took what wasn't hers and then ran away. Despite all this, we find ourselves betrothed to each other. I wonder if it's merely a coincidence. I think not; nothing in my line of work is marked down to something as simple as coincidence. But at least I won't have to lie to my father when I say I've taken her virginity on our wedding night; the only small white lie will be the timeline in which I had taken it.I am hesitant and taken aback by my thoughts as I consider the possibility of marrying this stunning yet untrustwort
EmmaLuca reacts abruptly, slamming his foot on the brakes with such force as if there was an imminent threat of a multi-car pile-up ahead. The car comes to a screeching halt in a matter of seconds, throwing me forward as the seatbelt tightens against my skin, crushing my ribs and causing me to let out a painful groan.I am still trying to catch my breath when we take a sudden left turn into a narrow single-track lane. The lane is covered with thick foliage of trees that wind around, obscuring the view ahead of us. As we continue down the lane, I realize that we are approaching a massive ten-foot wall. The wall is manned by at least five guards who seem to be on high alert at our appearance. The only way into the compound is through a wrought iron gate that is being guarded by these men.The term "compound" refers to Luca's place of residence, a secured and heavily guarded home where his men are constantly patrolling the perimeter.I have kept tabs on Luca's every movement and ability
Continued:"Come on, Bee? Let me have what I want, and I promise to give it in return," he states. His voice wavers and he sways just a little. "You're high," I remark. I'm not looking for confirmation; it's as evident as the blue sky. "I'm horny," he summarises. "No," I say unsurely. No, in this life, is never met well, and now is no different. Niko stills, his whole body stiffening at that singular two-letter word that entirely stops whatever he was fishing for. It takes him time to recover, and I sit like a duck waiting for the other shoe to drop. His fingers brush my cheek, his thumb stroking my lips. My breath catches as I stare into his endless pools of deep, earthy brown eyes. "Once we marry, that word will be forbidden," he whispers. "Even then, Niko, I can say...no." "You can say it, little Bee. Doesn't mean it'll hold any weight," he smirks. "Fuck off!" I all but yell. "Shout it louder, darling. Let everyone know we're having a lovers tiff," he laughs. But the la
Bianca "Some fucking choice! Fuck, I hate you," I shout at Emma as if my words were a dagger flying through the air. I say them to harm her, intent on expelling this anger. Franko looked utterly heartbroken seeing me enter with Niko, but the ironic thing was the feelings I felt towards his upset—that was nothing but relief. At first, the prospect of having the assurance that I had a husband and my life was planned seemed attainable, but the more I got to know Franko, the more I realised he was just like his father. Dangerous. I hated that I had been promised to him and that I had a life planned out with him. I hated that we were forced to speak about our relationship, our marriage, and the children we would have. Even so, it was set, and I was accepting of it. And now? Now I have Niko. Perhaps. Maybe? What am I saying? The only route I should be concentrating on is escape. All the same, the afternoon flies through my mind. Seeing him naked, his member hanging low and to t
Continued: "Get your hands off her," Franko demands with a glare worthy of instant death. "No," I state. "Franko, please," Bianca's voice comes soft and breathy, pissing me the fuck off instantly. I fight looking at her, but I'm unsuccessful. Thankfully, she's looking to the floor, her attention very much not on him as I expected. "Ah, Franko Densel, it's lovely to see you again," Luca's thick and domineering voice comes from beside us. He and Emma joined this little altercation before it really started. "Emma, you can't allow this. There was a deal between your father and mine; Bianca belongs to me," Franko pleads, his desperation obvious and ridiculous. Turning my body away, I pretend I'm more interested in the men moving around the room, but I'm not. I want to snap the boy's neck to prevent him from ever laying eyes on Bianca again, let alone placing any part of him on her. "I'm not my father; I won't force a marriage on her," Emma replies. "You can't stop it; the a
Continued: "Come on?" I call her, reaching down to rip my top up and over my head. I need a shower, too. We have an engagement to attend, so surely this can be classed as killing two birds with one stone? And we're saving on water whilst we're at it, which is always a plus when you live with so many people. "You want to wash me?" She asks me shyly, not having moved from that spot by the door. "I should have done it the moment I made you come, Bee. Now come on, we have things to do and places to be," I grate out, seedlings of doubt playing havoc on my decision-making. Should I really be doing this? Encouraging this weird dynamic, I don't understand. I've never showered with one of the girls; I usually deem it to be too intimate. Even with those thoughts, I drop my jeans and then my pants, staring at Bianca as I do. That heat from my office travels up her bare neck and into her cheeks. Her eyes are zeroed in on one place on me in particular. "Oh, god," she moans in the ba
Niko Luca is the one to have interrupted us; just as I was about to get my fucking dick wet, he knocked at my office door and put an end to whatever was transpiring between Bianca and me. My desk was absolutely wet, her thighs, top and back included with the squirting orgasm that took over her. But you know what? I didn't fucking mind, and she tasted more divine than a five-course meal at the fucking Hilton. But work called, and I had to prepare our men to protect Emma and Luca at all costs. Today, Emma swears by the Moretta name. So all morning, I've been planning the exits, the men I'll have following Emma and Luca around with precision. The ones staying in getaway cars waiting for eventualities, I hope, don't arise. I'm consumed by the prospect of needing to protect them. And that's why I find myself smoking yet-a-fucking-gain outside the front of the house. I call it stress relief, but I know my addiction is running at an all-time high right now. I need the fucking dr
Continued: I'm not sure why I do it, but I act on impulse. I walk to him without thought. As soon as I'm near, he grabs my wrist, pulling me to stand between his legs and desk. "So you were pretty angry?" he asks, though I treat the question as rhetorical. The evidence in his room was enough to prove that I was angry. "Let me teach you an outlet for that?" He drools at me with a sure smirk that triggers me. My buttocks hit the desk as he pushed me back, his hands holding onto my waist. His name falls from my mouth, a breathy mixture of wanton need and fear of what he might do and take. "Niko," I whisper in warning, though I'm not sure if it comes off that way. "It's okay, little bee. I know what you need," he croons. I'm pushed back onto the desk, my legs spread so either foot sits on his thighs. I'm vulnerable; I'm open to him. My heart races even more, my mind swamped with the unknown. He can't touch me, god he can't see the thing I keep hidden. I'm about to protes
Bianca I'm breathless, hot and fucking breathless as I cling to reality in the midst of pretend. I hadn't expected to eat dinner and exit the kitchen to find Niko had arrived home with another woman. But the moment I saw her, I wanted to beg every God that this world worships that this was make belief. That my eyes deceived me. Red hot jealously raged like an inferno inside of me. I was angry. So angry I could have murdered that girl—Andrea, with my bare fucking hands and not blinked twice. She was everything I was not. She's blonde like Emma, tall and well built, and explicitly beautiful. It's obvious she spends hours working out that I don't. Her bottom is as round as a peach, and her legs and arms are toned and defined. My gaze flicked between them, and realisation dawned on me like an elephant. I'm not his type; I couldn't be. Not if she was anything to go by. And yet, we are to be married in less than a few weeks. He accepted, and I thought perhaps I would
Continued: Andrea enters my car almost as soon as I pull up beside her apartment building. She's dressed in a long trench coat, no doubt with only underwear below, just as I like. Smiling a hello, we don't say anything as I move the car back on the road and head home, excited to finally expel this weird fucking need on a woman that knows I do the no attachment thing. Andrea's a beautiful English girl. Blonde, tall and athletic and well built for a woman and fucking good in bed. She works at the Downtown Club; everyone knows she is under my protection. All my regular girls are. Not long after we leave town, we're pulling up at the front of the house. I skip around the car, open the door for Andrea, and hold my arm out for her to take again. We remain silent, walking in contentment. We haven't said a word to one another when we walk into the house, and my instant happiness is cut fucking short. "Who the hell is she?" Bianca screams at me; just leaving the kitchen, she has the
Continued: Looking around, I see every man watching me; I'm obviously acting strangely. Usually, I do my job without emotion or prompting. But not today. Sighing, I walk over to Lionel and ask for the camera he's holding for me. Then, I turn to each of the girls. "Strip, we need to ensure you travelled unharmed," I grate out, devoid of emotion. The girls nod, standing up from their kneeled position stripping their clothing from their bodies. I start snapping pictures of each, marking the Polaroids with their names to ensure they can file with their correct files. I try not to react, god I wish I couldn't. But blondes seem to be my thing, or at least they have been for much of my life, until this morning, when I had Bianca pushed against my door after seeing her being touched by Elio. With a deepened sense of anger at not being able to control my own body around a woman, I grit my teeth and demand they feed the girls before I barge into the back. Opening the door, I put my po