S.I.X. Also spelled SIX, or simply the number 6. With over eight billion people in the world, seven of those eight reckon with the name S.I.X. To the oblivious masses, it’s just a name. To the fairly informed, it’s a jinx, bringing destruction. To the cops and government, it’s their nemesis. And to the Mafia world, it’s the legacy of a legend. * Ten years in the Italian ‘La Fratellanza’ Mafia family, SIX has harbored a fervent urge to hang up his boots and leave the dark world he has grown to love. But he, more than anyone else, knows the rules: the brotherhood is forever, and the only way out is in a body bag. With much appeal, he is cut some slack and given one condition - protect the Rodriguez heiress until she finally gets wedded to the Capo of the La Fratellanza family. Frustrated, SIX unwinds at a bar and ends up in bed with a mysterious vixen. The next morning, he takes the first flight to NYC to begin his assignment. But there she is, in the arms of the Capo, and he finally learns her real name - Arabella Rodriguez, fiancée to the Capo, heiress to the Rodriguez empire... and his fucking one-night stand. A bloody twist! But the beginning of a catastrophe in his quest to leave the dark world.
Lihat lebih banyakArabellaMarco’s arms were warm around me, but I couldn’t relax. My whole body was rigid. My heart hammered loudly in my chest.I tried not to think about it. I really did. But my mind wouldn’t stop playing that moment on loop—Six’s hand brushing my thigh, his mouth kissing me all over, and later… the way he’d slipped my underwear into his pocket like it belonged to him. Like I did. He said I was his.Heat rushed to my cheeks.Marco chuckled above me. “You don’t have to be shy around me, mi amore,” he said, lifting my chin with his finger. “You’re going to be my wife.”Wife.The word hit hard.I blinked up at him, confused. “What?”He just smiled like he hadn’t noticed the way my breath hitched. “You heard me, Arabella.”I didn’t know what to say. My throat felt tight. So I just nodded. It was easier that way. Pretend like I agreed. Pretend like everything was okay.Marco opened the door to my bedroom and carried me in. He dropped me gently to my feet when we got inside.I heard soft
SixI asked her to stop. She was wearing white lacy underwear with a bow in front. I was gawking at her.There was something about her in those lacy panties that did my head in. I stared at her flat belly, then at her full, long legs.I exhaled. This woman would be the death of me. I touched her crotch area, tracing a path down to the wet spot between her legs.“Nice choice of undies,” I remarked.She smiled, but I didn’t miss the look that crossed her face.“Let me guess, Marco’s choice?” I asked in a strained voice.She nodded, looking at me with wide eyes, like a deer caught in headlights. “Do you ever think of him?” I asked.She shook her head vigorously. “No. His touch repulses me…”I touched her again down there, gently. “And mine?”Of course I was jealous. It was torture to watch them together. I needed to be sure. I needed reassurance.She sucked in a deep breath and shook her head. “I like it when you touch me,” she whispered.I crouched in front of her and pulled down her pa
ArabellaHe ended the kiss abruptly and pulled away from me. I glanced at him—his head was bowed. My chest was heaving, but I wanted this. I wanted him. There was a throbbing between my legs that I knew only he could satisfy.“Six,” I called out to him in a soft whisper.He looked up at me, his eyes darkened with desire, and his lips were red from kissing.I averted my eyes, suddenly feeling self-conscious under the intensity of his stare. “I... I...”“I want to fuck you, Arabella,” he blurted out.My breath caught in my throat. “What?” My voice was hoarse and barely audible.“You heard me, Arabella. I want to fuck you,” he said with a small smirk, looking at me. “Of course, you know that. You see it in the way I look at you, you feel it when I touch you...”“Six...”“We are alone, Arabella. If I continue to kiss you, I’m not going to stop at kissing you. As much as I want you, I don’t want to take advantage of you, especially in your vulnerable state.”“I want you to fuck me.” I didn
SixI stood by the double doors, back straight, eyes fixed on the far wall. My hands were clasped behind me, fingers twitching with controlled tension. I tried not to look—God knows I tried.But she was in the mirror.Arabella.How could I not steal a look?In beautiful silk and lace, she stood in the middle of the room. The dress clung to her like it was carved on her body, half-zipped and half-exposed, her skin glowing softly under the golden light.Marco lounged in a velvet chair a few feet away, legs spread, watching her as if she were a prized possession meant for display. He licked his lower lip, a crooked smile on his face.“She’ll make a beautiful bride, won’t she, Six?” he said, his voice low and smug.I didn’t look at him. I didn’t even blink. I kept my gaze fixed on the wall, determined to stay detached.“Yes,” I answered, my jaw set tight. I stole a quick glance at her again.My voice came out flat. It was hard to stay in control when all I wanted to do was charge at him a
ArabellaThe night was too quiet.Not peaceful - just still. Exactly how I felt on the inside. I was tired of crying; I had cried all day until my eyes were swollen and red.I felt like a weight was crushing me down, and I was too tired to react.I stepped out onto the balcony, my bare feet touching the cold stone. The silk robe I wore clung to my skin— soft and light— but it didn’t make me warm.I wrapped my arms around myself and walked to the railing. The moon was bright tonight. Too bright. Like it was watching me.I stared at the stars for a moment, lost in the beauty of the night sky.I didn’t know if I was alone, but I didn’t care.Not at first.I just stood there, staring out at the trees and the garden, breathing in the cool air like I needed it to stay sane, because I did.Nothing had prepared me for the encounter with my father today. I thought the last time I saw him, when he dropped me off at the mansion, would be the last I’d see of him for a long time. I had almost forg
SixThe room smelled of smoke and alcohol. The men around the table were smoking huge cigars and drinking whiskey. I sat on the edge of the dark leather sofa, one leg crossed over the other.Across from me, Arabella’s father sat stiffly in a bright purple plaid suit. The man had questionable style. His hair was silver-white and styled to perfection.The expensive Richard Mille wristwatch on his hand, paired with the gold bracelet and chunky gold rings, oozed wealth.It was probably new, dirty money he had received from selling off his own daughter to a vile man like Marco.Marco leaned back with a smug smile. “So tell me again, Enzo Rodriguez. Why couldn’t you make it to your own daughter’s engagement party?”Arabella’s father cleared his throat, adjusting the collar of his shirt like it might help his excuse land better. “I had a prior engagement,” he said, his voice cool and clipped. “Business. It couldn’t be postponed.”Business. That’s what she was to him too, I guessed. A busines
ArabellaThe ghost of Six’s lips still burned on mine, and I hadn’t even opened my eyes yet.My body was suspended in the moment, somewhere between disbelief and a dizzying warmth that made my head spin.I was barely aware of the space between us now, barely registering that he had pulled away.And then—“Bella.”My eyes snapped open at the sound of Marco’s voice.Panic slammed into me at full force. A small gasp escaped my lips.He was standing in the doorway, his eyes bouncing between me and Six. His expression was unreadable. It was hard to tell what he was thinking.Six was doing a good job of pretending, standing at my bedside with his hands behind his back, a natural at this, but me?I was frozen still, my lips still plump, and my neck? I pulled the neckline of my dress closer, wondering if my neck was red at this point.My heart was hammering so hard I thought it might leap out of my chest. Not just because of what had almost happened— what had happened— Six’s soft lips moving
ArabellaMy eyelids slowly fluttered open as I struggled to adjust to the bright lights in the room. A dull ache throbbed at the back of my head, and my limbs felt heavy.As my vision cleared, I found myself staring into a familiar pair of midnight-black eyes. It was the same set of eyes I had been looking into when I...I sat up with a start, only to be hit with an immediate wave of dizziness.“Hey, take it easy,” he said in his deep baritone voice, placing an arm around me and gently tucking me back into bed. “You need a lot of rest. Your body needs time to recover. You were poisoned.” He glanced at me. “I poisoned you, but don’t worry. Just another night’s rest, and you’ll be o—”“Wait, what did you say?” I blurted out, my eyes wide with shock.“I said you have to rest up, so you’ll feel be—”“No, no, before that,” I interjected.He furrowed his brows. “Oh, the part where I said I poisoned you.”“Ho... How could...”Before I could finish my sentence, Maria and two other women strol
ArabellaThe folded slip of paper burned in my palm, my fingers curling tightly around it as I forced myself to keep moving.The waiter who had slipped it to me walked ahead, pausing only briefly to glance back before disappearing into the crowd.My heart thundered in my chest, but I couldn’t stop, couldn’t react. Not here. Not now.Marco groaned against my side, his full weight pressing into me as I struggled to support him up the stairs. He was drunk; more than drunk.His breath was hot against my neck as he leaned closer to whisper, “Arabella, my love.” He chuckled, his words slurred, the amused look in his eyes making me uneasy.“God, you’re so hot,” he muttered, his grip tightening around my waist. “You have no idea how much I want you right now.”I forced out a laugh, light and teasing, hoping he wouldn’t notice the tension in my body. “You’re drunk, Marco. I’ll just get you to your room.”“And you’re beautiful,” he stated, giving me a long look as if seeing me for the first tim
SixTen years. Ten fucking years of blood, bullets, and brotherhood.I stared at the ornate ceiling of Don Vincenzo’s study, counting the cherubs painted in some long-dead artist’s vision of heaven. Ironic, considering the hell that transpired in the room below them.I lifted my gaze back to his, remembering all those stern lessons from my childhood. The Don had drilled it into me countless times: a man who couldn’t maintain eye contact wasn’t worthy of respect or trust.Even now, I could hear his voice in my head, sharp with contempt for those he considered weak.In our world, weakness wasn’t just a flaw – it was an invitation to the grave. So I held his stare, steady and unwavering, even as my pulse thundered in my ears.“You understand what you’re asking, Six?” The Don’s voice carried the weight of tradition. Of rules written in blood. “La fratellanza is for life.”I kept my expression neutral, years of training holding my features in check. “I understand, Don Vincenzo. But I’ve se...
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