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Mafia's Lost Princess 157
Damon I drifted in and out of consciousness, dreaming dreams that were incoherent and jumbled. In some, I stood in front of a lone castle with the sword I had, and in others, I was a fisherman. All the dreams made no sense to me, but they had one unifying factor: the mask. The mask was always there, watching me, judging me, waiting to see if I would fall. But I didn't, or at least, I don't think I did. Finally, tired of the endless cycle of sleep and waking, my eyes snapped open. "I think it's time we need to talk," Frank said beside me. "I couldn't agree more," I said, rubbing my face with the palms of my hands. "Is she left? She's waiting... waiting for you to feel better. All of you," Frank said, and I looked at him, not quite understanding. "The men fell sick too. Just yesterday, even if the princess wanted to leave, there's no way she could." Forcing myself up, I sat against the headrest of the bed. "How do you feel?" Prank asked. "Like shit was my reply. "But I think a few
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Damon Alessandro didn't look surprised. Instead, the man simply nodded his head. "So, what are we supposed to find out about this catalyst?" I heard Philippe's voice say. "I believe it's important. Whatever this catalyst is, it must have been the reason why the mask awoke from its slumber." My mind started to swirl, wondering what the catalyst could be, until I realized that it was too obvious. I couldn't help but laugh when I realized it. "It's so simple," I thought to myself. "Isabella," I whispered, and the murmuring men fell silent. "Before we left, before I sent you all out, we didn't have any issues. The mask barely did anything—it was simply a scare factor. Isabella shows up," I climbed down from the edge of the boxing ring and walked towards them. "My emotions go all over the place. I find myself scared, angry, craving vengeance. The night she got hurt… Philippe, you know this well. Didn't your wound heal faster than normal? You were shot twice, yet barely a scar remains
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Isabella I was armed. Armed with the love of a monster and the knowledge of the future. I could sense betrayal hanging near, though it was too vague for me to tell who it would be. But one thing was certain: Cassandra would do something suspicious, and Frederick would try to engage me in conversation. My steps wanted to falter, but I whispered to myself : “my father did not raise a coward.” The words became my mantra as I began to whisper it in line with the beat my shoes made as the heels clacked against the polished marble. Voices came from the parlor after I entered the main foyer of the mansion. Taking a sharp left turn, I was flanked by Julio and Frank. Laughter and a loud, screeching sound reminiscent of ravens emanated from the room. Waste no time, I stepped in. The heels I wore not only added height but also mirrored the red on Damon's mask, making me feel connected to its power. Cassandra paused mid-sentence, her eyes scanning me from head to toe. She raised her chin defi
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Isabella I could barely sleep that night. By the time the tossing and turning became too much, I pulled down my covers and marched to Damon's room in frustration. I knocked until he opened the door. The man in front of me had his hair messed up from sleep. His eyes were barely open, but he wore no frown on his face. He grabbed my hand and pulled me to his bed, where he wordlessly scooped me into his arms. "You couldn't sleep because you kept moving," he said as he nuzzled my neck from behind. The sound of his breathing finally lulled me to sleep. Luckily, Damon woke me up at 6:00 a.m. and carried me back to my room when I refused to get up. I didn't understand how, but I was awake and bright-eyed when I found Paula waiting for me on my bed. She laughed when she saw me and respectfully directed Damon to take me to the bathroom. Everything was a haze around me until I felt jets of warm water hit my body, soaking my silk robe. After my shower, I was led to the vanity where Paula
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Damon The room was definitely silent, aside from the thundering heartbeats that filled my ears. I wanted to grab my head and scream while telling them to shut up, but judging from their faces, they would be dead. "Suddenly so quiet. I thought you would have many things to say in your defense," I said, and my voice carried to the end of the room. "I thought you were so bold about your legitimacy. Tell me, Cassandra, who is this kingpin she mentioned?" "I don't know what she's talking about," Cassandra said stiffly. "She's lying. It's all lies." "I can think of at least two witnesses that would back up the claims. Cassandra, you are treading on dangerous ice. Your little boyfriend wouldn't be able to pull you out," I said, nodding my head in Frederick's direction. Instantly, the man flinched and ducked his head, exposing the mark I left on his neck further. He was such an interesting toy to play with, I thought to myself. Cassandra suddenly stood up. "I will not be part of this ch
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Isabella I stretched my blissfully sore body against the comforting warmth of Damon's body. The man had barely let me sleep last night. He started out worried that he would hurt me because of his newfound strength. "I think the strength would make things better," I said, feeling a smile on my mouth. "The strength did make things better," I thought to myself as my hand spread across the plane of his chest over his tattoo. The tattoo was of a floating skull with thorns coming out of the eye socket and the hole for the ears. It was truly an interesting depiction, I thought to myself, and started to flick his nipple until he woke up. The part that woke up, however, was his dick, not him, making me laugh and lightly smack at him until his eyes fluttered open. "Am I not going to see this Roman?" I asked, wondering when we would go. "Eventually," he mumbled as he grabbed my waist and flipped me over until my back was on the bed and his head was somehow on my breasts. His arms had cage
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Isabella He first looked deep in thought. But then Roman’s smile widened with each thing I said until his face was stretched into a full-on grin. "My father spoke of your dad as a man capable of seeing through people. It appears you have emulated his character to a fault. I never met Marcel. I heard his unusual kindness cost him everything. In my opinion, there's nothing wrong with kindness, but there's everything wrong with softness in this line of work. Take a look at the current King. He's a hard man, scary. In my opinion, he's a brute. He rules with brute strength, force, and fear. I must confess, the man is truly a force to be reckoned with. He has no weaknesses. I've tried to find where his base is located, but I can't. I don't even know what he looks like underneath the mask. So, instead of trying to find out that, I chose to chip away at his empire. But even as it's done, the only thing I'm able to keep is the harbor. I'm left with pocket change that is very much a far cr
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Isabella "Now I just feel like you're patronizing me," Damon said as he laughed softly. "I'll be done here in about 30 minutes. Wait for me." I nodded my head, and when I turned to leave, Damon smacked me on the ass, earning a few whistles and catcalls from the men. I couldn't help the way my cheeks flooded with blood as I laughed. Even though I tried to walk with even steps, I still felt embarrassed. *** Damon sat in my room, having breakfast while I waited, nibbling on a piece of strawberry. The reddish juice had already stained my fingers from eating so much, but I was bored waiting for him. Finally, he finished after what felt like an eternity and smirked at me. "When is the next meeting?" I asked. "We have meetings every two weeks. Sometimes, if there's no order of business, it could last a month before we have any. But I called for another one in two weeks." "So I have two weeks before we figure out whatever the hell is going on," I said, and he grunted in response. "Is t
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