LOGINShare
18 - Nothing But A Pawn
Last Updated:
2024-12-03 20:34:59
Related chapters
The Mafia King's Trophy 19 - Vendetta
MatteoThe hallway blurs as I storm toward the parlor, anger pounding through my veins like a war drum. My fists clench and unclench at my sides, and I can still feel the heat of Amara’s tears, the sound of her voice trembling.She wasn’t the one I wanted to break today.It’s my mother.I shove the doors open with more force than necessary, the echo reverberating through the room. She’s sitting at the same table where she had tea with Amara just moments ago, the faint scent of chamomile still lingering in the air.Sienna Dragonetti doesn’t even flinch. She looks up at me, her face calm, poised, the picture of composure, but I can see the steel in her eyes.“You shouldn’t have done it,” I snap, my voice harsh and cold.She tilts her head slightly, resting her hands on the armrests of her chair. “Done what, Matteo?”“Invited her to tea,” I growl, stepping closer. “What the fuck were you thinking?”Her expression doesn’t waver, but her tone sharpens ever so slightly. “I was thinking it m
Last Updated : 2024-12-03The Mafia King's Trophy 20 - She's Going To Ruin You
MatteoThe bass from the speakers pulses through the club, a relentless beat that matches the pounding in my head. The air is thick with smoke, perfume, and the faint metallic scent of spilled liquor. I’m sitting in the corner booth, a bottle of bourbon on the table in front of me and a half-empty glass in my hand.I poured it an hour ago and still haven’t even taken a sip.Some blonde is draped over me, her hands sliding across my chest as she whispers things I don’t give a fuck about into my ear. Her laughter is high-pitched, fake, and grates on my nerves more than the music.I don’t know her name. I didn’t ask.“Come on, Matteo,” she purrs, her nails raking lightly against my shirt. “You’ve been so tense all night. Let me help you relax.”Her lips trail to my neck, her perfume so strong it makes my stomach turn. I grit my teeth, staring at the glass in my hand as if it holds the answer to the storm swirling in my head.My mind is elsewhere.It’s in the fucking mansion, back in that
Last Updated : 2024-12-03The Mafia King's Trophy 21 - Blood
MatteoI shouldn’t be here. I should wait until morning, let the night cool my temper, but the thought of Amara sitting in that room—staring at those flowers I made her pick—gnaws at me. She needs to understand that I won’t tolerate her overstepping again, but maybe I went too far. Accusing her of manipulating my mother? Even I know how ridiculous that sounds.I stride toward her room, rehearsing what I’ll say. Something to smooth over my earlier accusations without losing the upper hand. Something to remind her of her place without ripping into her the way I did before.But the second I open the door, the words die in my throat.At first, I think she’s sleeping, her body lying too still under the sheets. But then the moonlight catches the dark stain spreading across the floor, the glint of something sharp lying near her hand.Then the broken vase, scattered flowers …and the blood.It’s everywhere.Her wrists are sliced open, the skin jagged and red, the blood pooling around her in a
Last Updated : 2024-12-04The Mafia King's Trophy 22 - Mafia’s Vice
Matteo“Matteo,” he begins, his voice calm as he pulls up a chair next to me. “I know how much a vendetta can eat at you. It’s like a fucking poison—it fills you up, drives you, gives you purpose. But you need to realize something: Amara is not just her last name, and she’s not her father.”I grit my teeth, the sharp edge of defensiveness rising in my chest. “Dad—”“Listen to me,” he says. “If I still had the attitude you do, your mother wouldn’t be alive right now. I would have killed her.”I blink, staring at him, unable to comprehend what he’s just said. Swallowing hard, I tilt my head, forcing myself to meet his gaze. “What do you mean?”My father exhales heavily, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, his sharp eyes studying me as if he’s deciding whether to lay bare what he’s about to say. His usually impenetrable mask of authority slips slightly, revealing something deeper—regret.“Your mother…” he begins, his voice quieter now, “your mother didn’t always have the life s
Last Updated : 2024-12-04The Mafia King's Trophy 23 - You Don’t Get To Quit
AmaraThe room is quiet except for the soft hum of the air conditioning. My body feels heavy, my limbs weighted down by an ache that seems to sink into my bones. My throat is dry, and as I shift, a sharp sting shoots up my arms.I glance down and see the bandages wrapped tightly around my wrists. The sight drags the memory back in vivid detail—the vase breaking, the jagged edge cutting into my skin, the warmth of the blood pooling around me.But I’m here... Alive?The sheets are clean, stark white, and smell faintly of lavender. Everything is too clean, too perfect, like someone scrubbed the entire room free of last night’s mess.I push myself up, wincing as the movement pulls at my arms. It’s then that I notice him.Matteo.He’s slouched in the armchair by the window, his legs stretched out, his head tilted slightly to the side. He’s asleep, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm.The sight of him here, in my room, is more jarring than the bandages on my wrists.I move to si
Last Updated : 2024-12-05The Mafia King's Trophy 24 - Guilt
MatteoI don’t remember walking to my mother’s wing. The corridor is a blur, the steps automatic. By the time I’m outside her door, I can barely breathe. My chest feels too tight, my hands trembling at my sides. I’m Matteo Dragonetti—I don’t tremble.But here I am.I push the door open without knocking, and she’s there, sitting in her wheelchair by the window like always, her sharp profile silhouetted against the sunlight. Her hands are folded neatly in her lap, and she doesn’t turn when I enter.“I was wondering when you’d come,” she says, her voice calm and measured, like she’s been waiting for me.I stand there, frozen for a moment, then close the door behind me. “You knew?” I rasp, my voice rough.“I heard,” she corrects, finally turning to face me. Her gaze sharpens as she takes me in—my disheveled hair, the tension in my jaw, the way my hands clench and unclench at my sides. “Sit down, Matteo.”“I don’t—”“Sit,” she says, her tone leaving no room for argument.I sigh and lower m
Last Updated : 2024-12-07The Mafia King's Trophy 25 - Wake Up Call / Olive Branch
AmaraThe first thing I notice when I wake is the warmth. It’s unfamiliar, close, and wrong. My eyes snap open, and my heart jolts when I see him. Matteo is lying next to me, his green eyes half-lidded but sharp, watching me like a predator watches its prey.I scramble back, pressing my spine into the headboard. “What the hell are you doing?” My voice is hoarse, cracking slightly, but the bite in my tone is still there.He lifts a hand, palm up, in a calming gesture. “Relax, Amara. I’m not here to fight.” His voice is low, almost soothing, which only puts me more on edge. Matteo never soothes.I stare at him, my chest heaving, unsure if I should believe him or start screaming. But something about his expression stops me. He looks… exhausted. Dark circles shadow his sharp eyes, his hair is messier than usual, and his jaw is covered in scruff like he hasn’t bothered to shave in days.“You scared the shit out of me,” I snap, my voice trembling despite my effort to sound composed. “What a
Last Updated : 2024-12-08The Mafia King's Trophy 26 - Distractions and Focus
MatteoI close the door behind me and take a deep breath, leaning against the cool wood. The image of Amara clutching those pointe shoes to her chest flashes in my mind, and I shove it down, hard. I can’t afford to think about the way her eyes lit up, or how fragile she looked, holding onto something so simple, so small.Get a grip, Matteo.The pull in my chest twists, sharp and unwelcome, but I push off the door and stride down the hallway. The sound of my boots against the polished floors echoes faintly, grounding me. I rake a hand through my hair, exhaling sharply as I stalk down the hall. I don’t have time for this. Whatever the hell I’m feeling, it doesn’t matter. It can’t matter.By the time I reach my father’s study, my mask is firmly back in place. Cold. Calculated. The Matteo Dragonetti they all know.The debrief is in my father’s study, the same place where most of our war discussions happen. When I step inside, Lukas and Markus are already there, leaning against the massiv
Last Updated : 2024-12-09
Latest chapter
The Mafia King's Trophy The Enforcer’s Darling 19
MarkusI close Nadya’s door behind me, my chest still rising and falling from the high of her falling apart under my mouth. Her taste lingers on my tongue, sweet and intoxicating, and I drag a hand through my hair. She’s my new favorite addiction. Every time I see her unravel beneath me, it’s like a shot of adrenaline straight to my veins. I’ve tasted power, blood, and control my entire life, but nothing compares to the way she shatters for me.It’s pathetic how much I already crave more of her. The way she clutches onto me, how her lips part with those little gasps—it’s like she was made to be ruined by me.I can’t believe I was trying to avoid this. Her. It’s fucking laughable.Shaking my head, I adjust my sweats and head down the hall, the cool air doing little to calm the fire still burning under my skin. Just as I turn toward the stairs, one of Matteo’s men approaches.“Boss wants you in his office. Lukas is already there.”Great. If Matteo’s calling us both in, it’s either a sh
The Mafia King's Trophy The Enforcer’s Darling 18
NadyaThe first thing I notice when I wake up is the scent. Markus’ cologne is all over the pillows, warm and woodsy with a hint of something darker, something unmistakably him. My fingers tighten on the fabric as reality sinks in.Last night happened.I sit up slowly, the covers pooling around my waist as I press a hand to my chest. My heart is racing—not out of fear, but something else entirely. I don’t want to name it, don’t even want to think about it too hard. If I do, I’ll lose myself in the mess Markus left behind.But still, my mind replays every moment, every touch, every word. The way his lips moved against mine, the way his hands gripped me like he couldn’t bear to let go, the way he looked at me like I was the only thing in the world that mattered.I shouldn’t feel this way. Not about him. Markus is dangerous, unpredictable, and yet… last night, he was none of those things. He was gentle, almost tender, in a way I didn’t think he was capable of.My cheeks heat as I remembe
The Mafia King's Trophy The Enforcer’s Darling 17
MarkusI lift her off the ground, her legs wrapping around my waist as I carry her to the bed. Her tank top rides up, exposing more of her soft, pale skin, and I have to fight the urge to rip it off her.“Markus,” she murmurs, her voice soft and hesitant.I pause, my hands gripping her thighs as I look down at her. “What is it, Nadya?”She smiles faintly, her fingers brushing against my cheek. “You’re not as scary as you think you are,” she says, her voice teasing but warm.I chuckle, the sound rough. “Don’t tell anyone,” I say, my smirk widening. “I’ve got a reputation to uphold.”She laughs softly, and the sound is like music, light and carefree in a way I’ve never heard before. It’s beautiful, and it’s all for me.I lower her onto the bed, her hair fanning out around her like a halo. She looks up at me, her eyes wide, the faintest hint of uncertainty shadowing her expression. I brush my knuckles over her cheek, reminding her she’s safe.“You’re beautiful, you know that?” I murmur.
The Mafia King's Trophy The Enforcer’s Darling 16
MarkusThe door clicks shut behind me as I stride into my room, the dampness from my shower still clinging to my skin. The towel I used to dry my hair sits discarded on the floor, and I’m pacing, my mind a whirlwind of anger and frustration.She was jealous.That thought has been gnawing at me ever since I left her room. Nadya, my fierce, stubborn Topolina, was jealous. Over me. Even after I spelled out in graphic detail why I’m the last person she should want, she still looked at me like she couldn’t decide if she wanted to slap me or kiss me.I rake a hand through my hair, my bare chest heaving as I try to calm the storm inside me. She wants me. The knowledge is like a double-edged blade, cutting through my defenses while carving deep into my control.What the fuck am I supposed to do with that?I glance at my reflection in the mirror, the hard lines of my face twisted in frustration. My jaw clenches as I remember the way she looked at me earlier—her blue eyes blazing, her cheeks fl
The Mafia King's Trophy The Enforcer’s Darling 15
NadyaI storm into the gym, my hands shaking as I wrap the tape around my knuckles. Anger burns in my chest, but I don’t even know why I’m this furious. Markus isn’t mine. He owes me nothing. But that doesn’t stop the bile rising in my throat when I think about the way he smelled last night—like perfume, sweat, and sex.The scratch marks on his neck didn’t help either.I pull the tape tighter, ignoring the sting as it bites into my skin. My movements are jerky, uncoordinated, and the anger bubbling beneath the surface isn’t helping. He had the nerve to come into my room, to sit beside me and offer comfort, while reeking of another woman.Does he even care about how that makes me feel? No, of course not. Why would he? I’m nothing to him. Just some damaged little thing he’s stuck babysitting because he felt guilty.I grab a pair of boxing gloves and slip them on, trying to channel my rage into something productive. When Markus walks into the gym a moment later, his expression is neutral
The Mafia King's Trophy The Enforcer’s Darling 14
MarkusI slam the door to Lukas’ office harder than necessary, the wood rattling in its frame. He doesn’t even flinch, his boots propped up on the desk, a whiskey glass dangling from his fingers. His eyes flick to me, then back to whatever bullshit report he’s pretending to read.I, on the other hand, am ready to crawl out of my fucking skin.“Do you ever do anything useful, or is this just your default setting now?” I ask, stepping inside.“What crawled up your ass?” he asks lazily, not bothering to look up again.“You know damn well what,” I snap, crossing the room to stand in front of his desk. “I need advice.”Lukas arches a brow, finally deigning to meet my gaze. “Advice? From me?” He snorts, setting his whiskey down. “Must be a bad day if you’re coming to me for help, brother.”I glare at him, but it only makes his smirk grow. “It’s Nadya,” I grit out, my fists clenching at my sides.“Of course, it is.” He leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “What’d she do
The Mafia King's Trophy The Enforcer’s Darling 13
MarkusThe gym echoes with the sound of Nadya’s labored breaths and the soft squeak of her sneakers against the mat. She’s been pushing herself harder each session, her determination a force to be reckoned with. Even though her body is still catching up to the hell it’s been through, her spirit is unrelenting.“Come on, Topolina,” I taunt, circling her. “Is that all you’ve got?”She glares at me, wiping the sweat off her forehead with the back of her hand. “I’m saving my strength for the moment I crush you,” she snaps, her thick Russian accent making the threat sound a little more serious than it should.I smirk, rolling my shoulders. “You couldn’t crush me if I handed you a sledgehammer and stood still.”Her lips curve into that defiant little scowl that always makes something inside me twist. I don’t let myself dwell on it. She squares up again, her stance solid but still rough around the edges. She’s come a long way, though. A month ago, she could barely keep her balance. Now? Now
The Mafia King's Trophy The Enforcer’s Darling 12
NadyaThe gym smells faintly of leather and sweat, the air heavy with the lingering tension from our earlier sparring session. Markus stands a few feet away, adjusting the gloves on his hands as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. But there’s nothing natural about him—not his sharp green eyes, not his towering frame, and definitely not the dangerous air he carries around like a second skin.I can’t stop watching him.He moves with a quiet confidence, each motion calculated and precise, like a predator sizing up its prey. Even now, leaning against the punching bag with a towel slung over his shoulder, he looks like he’s ready to strike at a moment’s notice.It’s unsettling how easily I can pick out the details: the way his hair falls slightly into his eyes when he tilts his head, the sharp angles of his jaw that seem to be carved from stone, the tattoos curling up his forearms.Markus isn’t just a man. He’s a weapon. A deadly, beautiful weapon.And I hate that I notice.I sip
The Mafia King's Trophy The Enforcer’s Darling 11
MarkusNadya moves across the mat with precision, her blonde hair tied up in a messy bun that’s starting to come undone. Strands fall loose, framing her delicate face, and I catch myself staring for too long. Again. I grit my teeth and glance away, pretending to adjust the gloves I’m wearing, but my eyes betray me, snapping back to her almost immediately. She’s doing the warm-ups I taught her, her small frame moving with surprising grace despite the tension I know she’s carrying. She’s wearing a simple tank top and leggings, but there’s no hiding the lithe, graceful figure beneath, a body that could’ve belonged to a ballerina. But I know better. Whatever dreams she might have had died the moment someone decided she was better suited as a commodity.I lean back against the wall, arms crossed, watching her. It’s not the first time I’ve caught myself staring, and it won’t be the last. There’s something about her that draws my eye—something fragile but not breakable, delicate but not we
