ERICA I was scrubbing down the living room floor, the smell of lemon cleaner filling the air as I worked, when I heard the unmistakable sound of heels clicking against the tile. I looked up to see Clarissa walking in, her designer bag slung over her shoulder and a smug expression on her face. She stopped in the doorway, her gaze flicking over me with barely concealed distaste. “Where’s Raffael?” she asked, her tone sharp, as if my presence alone was an inconvenience. I straightened, gripping the cleaning cloth in my hand. “He’s not here right now. I think he had some business to take care of,” I replied as politely as I could manage. Clarissa’s eyes narrowed slightly, and she let out a sigh that seemed half disappointment, half irritation. “Of course. Always leaving things for me to deal with.” She dropped her bag onto a chair and headed toward the kitchen. “I’ll wait,” she announced, as if I’d had a choice in the matter. I watched her rummage through the fridge, eventually
RAFFAEL I watched my mother’s car pull up from the window, her elegant figure stepping out in that tailored suit she always wore like armor. “What is she even doing here?” I whispered to myself. She looked as though she were heading into battle, and in a way, I knew she was. “Erica,” I called out to her she was already there in the living room, “My mum is on her way here. Be on your best behavior and address her as Mrs. Greco” “Yes sir.” Erica nodded. I face palmed myself as I leaned back unto the chair. My mother rarely paid me visits but whenever she did, it always came with some form of nagging which irked the hell out of me. The door opened with a sharp push which almost startled Erica. With a quiet greeting on her lips, she had her head slightly bowed as if she knew not to expect a warm response. “Good morning, Mrs Greco,” Erica said softly. But my mother barely glanced at her, walking straight past as if Erica were invisible. She headed directly toward me, her gaze
Erica’s POV The silence in the kitchen felt suffocating after Raffael’s mother stormed out, leaving me shaken. My hands trembled as I scrubbed at an already clean countertop, trying to focus on anything other than the memory of the juice spilling over my dress and her cruel words. "Gold digger," she’d called me. As if I’d chosen this life. As if I wanted to be here. I didn’t notice Raffael until he was standing in the doorway, his tall figure casting a shadow across the room. My heart sank at the sight of him. His expression was dark, his jaw set tight. I could see the tension rolling off him like a thunderstorm about to break. “Erica,” he said sharply, his voice clipped. I froze, clutching the rag in my hand like a lifeline. “Yes, sir?” His eyes narrowed at my tone, the formal distance I always tried to maintain. “Drop the act,” he said, stepping further into the room. “I just had to listen to my mother rant about you for what seemed like an eternity, and I’m not in the moo
RAFFAEL The room felt suffocating, the air thick with the smell of stale cigars and frustration. I sat at the head of the long table, watching my capos argue like children fighting over scraps. Their voices blurred into a droning buzz, each word chipping away at my patience. Marco, my eldest and most level-headed capo, leaned forward, stabbing a finger on the map spread across the table. “This isn’t just one shipment, Raffael. It’s three. Someone’s hijacking our goods and selling them before they even hit the shore.” Luca nodded, his dark eyes narrowed. “We have reason to believe they’re getting help from someone inside the port authority. If we don’t act—” I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to focus, but it was like my brain had short-circuited. My thoughts kept drifting to her. Erica. Why her? Why now? I clenched my fists under the table, the memory of her defiance flashing in my mind. No woman had ever looked me in the eye the way she did, like she didn’t care who
ERICA The thumping bass vibrated through my body as I stepped onto the stage. The lights flashed, blinding me momentarily, but I kept my eyes focused on the pole in front of me. I spun, my heels clicking sharply against the floor, trying to block out the crowd, pretending I wasn’t there at all. But then, I noticed him. A man in the corner of the room. He was big, covered in tattoos, piercings glinting in the harsh lights. His eyes were dark, almost unnervingly so, and they were locked on me, like he was trying to peel me open, read me. I couldn’t shake the feeling he was watching me too closely. When my routine ended, he waved me over, his hand beckoning like I was his to command. “Come join me darling.” He rasped. I hesitated for a moment, which elicited a scowl on his face, “Oh do you think I can’t afford a cheap slut like you?” Gulping down my uneasiness, I then forced my legs to carry me toward him. I sat down next to him, feeling the weight of his gaze press against
RAFFAEL I slowed the car, eyes narrowing as a figure suddenly darted into the road ahead, illuminated by my headlights. My heart lurched, and I slammed the brakes, tires screeching. “What the—” I growled, gripping the wheel as the car came to a jerking halt. The figure froze, then stumbled forward, their arms flailing for balance. My stomach knotted when I realized who it was. Erica. She turned, wide-eyed, her face pale under the harsh beam of my headlights. I heard her shriek in fear, shielding her face with one arm as if that would stop the car. Before I could process her idiocy, movement caught my eye—several shadows emerging from the alley behind her. Men, closing in fast. “Dio mio,” I muttered under my breath. My instincts flared, and I shoved the door open, stepping out into the cold night air. “Erica!” I barked, my voice slicing through the stillness like a blade. Her gaze darted toward me, her expression a strange mix of fear and relief. “Raffael…” she bre
RAFFAEL I led Erica into the restaurant, a modest, late-night pizza joint that smelled of melted cheese and warm dough. The kind of place you’d miss if you weren’t looking for it. She stumbled slightly as we stepped inside, her fingers gripping my arm tighter than I expected. “Easy there,” I muttered, steadying her. “You’re not exactly graceful right now.” She tilted her head back to look at me, her lips pulling into a lopsided smile. “Oh, come on, Raffael. Where’s your sense of fun? Live a little.” “I am living. I just prefer to do it without making a scene.” She rolled her eyes and let go of my arm, staggering toward an empty table. “You’re no fun. And you think I’m the problem.” I sighed, following her to the table. She plopped down unceremoniously, resting her elbows on the surface and staring at the laminated menu like it held the secrets to the universe. “Do they have pizza with extra cheese?” she asked, her voice suddenly serious. “It’s a pizza place. Of course,
ERICA I woke up to a pounding headache and the faint smell of something unfamiliar—leather? It took a moment for my blurry eyes to adjust to the dim light streaming through my bedroom window. The ache in my head deepened as I sat up, but the sight that greeted me froze me mid-motion. Raffael. He was seated in the armchair next to my bed, his legs crossed, his expression unreadable. He wasn’t just here; he was staring at me, like he’d been waiting for me to wake up. “What the…” I croaked, my voice hoarse. “What are you doing here?” “Good morning to you too,” he replied, his tone clipped. “You don’t remember?” My mind raced, the throbbing in my head making it harder to think. “Remember what?” Raffael stood, his imposing figure towering over me as he walked to the side of the bed. “Last night. You don’t remember anything?” And just like that, the memories slammed into me like a freight train. Running down the dark alley, the thugs chasing me. The pizza. Sitting in the m
ERICA The tension in the air felt suffocating as I lay on my bed, staring at the ceiling. It had been over thirty minutes since Raffael had ordered me upstairs, and I had obeyed like a scolded child. Now, thirst clawed at my throat, the dryness an excuse to leave this room that felt more like a prison with every passing second. But I hesitated. What if Raffael was still downstairs? He’d told me to go to my room, and I wasn’t sure how he’d react if he saw me wandering around. I hated the thought of facing him—his dark eyes filled with whatever storm brewed behind them. Still, I reasoned with myself, I couldn’t stay in here forever. It was just water. If he asked, I’d explain. Simple. Taking a deep breath to steady my nerves, I opened the door and stepped into the dimly lit hallway. The house was quiet except for the faint hum of conversation coming from downstairs. As I walked cautiously, the murmur of voices grew louder. Passing by the door to Raffael’s study, I paused. The door
ERICA Days blurred into each other, heavy with an oppressive silence that seemed to cling to the walls of Raffael’s house. I spent most of my time holed up in the kitchen or my room, avoiding him whenever possible. It had been days since that night at the club, and I hadn’t seen much of him since. I should’ve been relieved. Grateful, even. But the memory of his touch lingered like an unwelcome ghost, refusing to fade. I hated myself for how easily I’d given in, for how my body had betrayed me in that moment. What’s wrong with you, Erica? I thought bitterly as I stirred a pot of marinara sauce on the stove. You’re supposed to be smarter than this. Stronger than this. I told myself I was lucky. Raffael had kept his distance, only appearing sporadically in the house, leaving me to my own devices. I prayed it would stay that way. The less I saw him, the better. I was just plating the pasta when I heard the sound of heavy footsteps behind me. My heart jumped, and I froze, gripping th
ERICA The dressing room smelled of cheap perfume and stale cigarettes. It wasn't a smell you ever got used to, no matter how long you worked here. My reflection in the mirror stared back at me, a hollow version of myself I barely recognized anymore. A week had passed since I was discharged from the hospital, and here I was, back to this. Back to dancing for men who saw me as nothing more than a fleeting fantasy. It was another long, soul-draining night. I adjusted the straps of my skimpy outfit, the sequins scratching against my skin. The music from the club thudded faintly through the walls, a relentless reminder of the world I had to step into. "Erica!" Ray, the club manager, poked his head into the dressing room. His face was pinched, his voice sharp as always. "Raffael sent for you.“ My stomach clenched. Raffael. Just hearing his name made my pulse race and my skin crawl with a confusing mix of fear and... something else I didn't want to name. Why would he send for me now
ERICAThe sterile scent of antiseptic stung my nose before my eyes even opened. Blinding white light flooded my vision as I blinked, the steady hum of a heart monitor filling the room. My throat felt dry, like sandpaper, and I swallowed, trying to remember what had happened.I had been kidnapped. Bound. Starved. But I was saved.Raffael saved me. He carried me like I was the most fragile creature in the world.The last thing I remembered was collapsing in his arms, exhaustion overtaking me. Now, I was here in this stark hospital room. How long had I been unconscious? A day? Two? Where was Raffael? More importantly, why had I been kidnapped? I had no enemies—at least none I could think of.Unless… it had something to do with Raffael.Of course it did. He was a crime boss. Someone must have taken me to get to him. Either I was bait, or they planned to kill me to send him a message.My thoughts shattered when the door to the ward burst open, slamming against the wall. I jumped, gasping a
ERICA A DAY LATER The air was suffocating, thick with the stench of mold and decay. I was cold, shaking uncontrollably, my wrists raw from the ropes biting into my skin. The faint light from the crack above barely touched the darkness around me. I had been here for a day already, fed with nothing but dried bread and water. My heart was pounding, and I couldn’t stop the tears sliding down my face. Will I make it out alive? What if Raffael never finds me? God please, just save me. I heard footsteps approaching, slow and deliberate. The door creaked open again, and this time, it was not just the driver. Another one followed him in, taller and broader, with a sneer plastered across his face. My stomach twisted and dread washed over me. "Well, well, look at her," the driver said, his voice filled with cruel amusement. He moved closer, and I tried to back away, but there was nowhere to go. The taller man grinned, his eyes raking over me. "You didn't tell me she was t
ERICA I woke up with a sharp pain in my head. It felt like someone had hit me with a hammer. My body was cold, and the floor underneath me was hard and damp. I tried to move, but something was stopping me. I tugged at my arms and legs and realized they were tied up. My hands were bound tightly behind my back, and my legs were tied too, keeping me in one spot. I blinked, trying to see, but the room was so dark. I couldn't make out anything. All I could smell was the horrible stench of mold and something rotten. My stomach turned, and I gagged, but there was nothing in my stomach to throw up. The air was thick with the smell, and the more I breathed it in, the sicker I felt. Where am I? How did I get here? Then it hit me. I left the club, trying to avoid the drizzle and hailed down the first cab I could see. I just wanted to get home and rest, atleast have a bit of peace before Raffael and Clarissa stirred trouble for me. But then the driver took a different route and when I
RAFFAEL I ambled towards the house, a migraine throbbing at the side of my head. I felt so exhausted and drained. I had spent the entire night in my office, going over countless files and documents that seemed not to end. The port authorities were a serious pain in the ass not to mention the fuckers that hijacked my goods days ago. I still could not believe my capos had not tracked them yet. I give them one job to do and they are being so lazy about it! If not that I had other pressing issues at hand, I'd have killed the bastards that dared to steal from me. Currently right now, I was working on finding who had the audacity to send me a death threat via text message. I wasn't surprised though. This is the mafia and my life is a ticking time bomb. I had numerous enemies but my ability to crush them all was what kept me at the top. And may hell receive the soul of the cunt that sent that message to my phone. I'd make sure he meets his creator. My insiders , though t
ERICA The sound of muffled music from the club’s main floor still throbbed in my ears as I sat on the bench in the dressing room, my fingers fumbling to untie the straps of my heels. My entire body felt like it had been wrung out and left to dry, sore and weak. The hours I’d spent on the stage felt heavier tonight, and the exhaustion dug deeper into my bones. I threw the heels into my bag, the clatter breaking the quiet of the room. For a moment, I sat there, letting my head fall into my hands. The dizziness hadn’t left since Raffael had locked me in that room, leaving me with nothing but my anger and hunger. No food. No water. Just silence and the four walls pressing in on me. He hadn’t said a word when he let me out hours later, his face a mask of cold indifference. The only thing he cared about was making sure I got to my shift on time. I bit my lip, trying to push the memory away, but it clung to me, suffocating and unrelenting. The note he’d sent at the grocery store fl
ERICA The soft hum of the supermarket's air conditioning was a small comfort as I strolled through the aisles, picking up the essentials. We were low on some groceries and dairy products so I decided to venture to the super market this morning but not before informing Raffael by the way. Atleast I could get that done and off my list before I prepare for the night work at that fucking club again. Right now, what I had in my cart was a loaf of bread, a carton of milk, some fresh vegetables. It was mundane, but it felt like a slice of normalcy in the chaotic storm that my life had become. For a few minutes, I could pretend that I wasn’t constantly looking over my shoulder. For some reason I felt being watched. But would Raffael be crazy enough to track my every movement down to the super market? I doubt not. I can’t run away from him that’s for sure, he had left me no choice to do that. I turned into the cereal aisle, scanning the shelves for something cheap but filling.