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22 - Mafia’s Vice
Last Updated:
2024-12-04 15:46:56
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The 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 : 2024-12-09The Mafia King's Trophy 27 - Freedom In A Sense
AmaraThe room feels still, almost unnervingly quiet after Matteo leaves. My eyes drift back to the box on the bed, the soft pink pointe shoes nestled inside like a fragile secret. I stare at them for a long time, my mind a mess of thoughts I can’t pin down.An olive branch. That’s what this is.I run my fingers lightly over the satin, the smooth texture almost too perfect. Matteo gave me this. The same man who dragged me into this mess, who broke me down to my lowest, who pushed me so far that I…I stop, shaking my head, unwilling to finish the thought.He doesn’t want me dead. That much is clear now. Maybe he’s even sorry. Maybe guilt is eating away at him the way anger has eaten away at me for weeks.Or maybe he’s playing a game, another manipulation to keep me tethered, to remind me that he holds the strings.I can’t tell. I don’t know which Matteo is real—the cruel, calculating man who thrives on control, or the man who sat on my bed last night, his eyes softer than I’ve ever see
Last Updated : 2024-12-11The Mafia King's Trophy 28 - Control Snaps
MatteoThe dining room is alive with low conversation and the clinking of silverware, but my mind isn’t fully in the room. The plans for hitting the Cerullis’ supply line are falling into place, each piece clicking together with the precision I expect.Markus’s bloodthirsty grin, Lukas’s cocky commentary, and my father’s sharp strategic mind—all of it creates a rhythm that should be satisfying.“And then we’ll move the trucks through the alternate route,” Markus says, his voice low but brimming with enthusiasm. “By the time they realize what’s happening, we’ll already be a step ahead.”“Assuming they don’t have eyes on that route,” my father counters, his tone sharp. “We need to secure it first.”Markus smirks. “Leave that to me.”Lukas leans back in his chair, swirling his glass of wine. “You’re enjoying this too much.”Markus raises an eyebrow, the faintest hint of a grin tugging at his lips. “Of course I am.”“Just don’t get sloppy,” I cut in, my tone hard. “This isn’t just about b
Last Updated : 2024-12-11The Mafia King's Trophy 29 - I’ll Wait
Amara“You don’t hate me,” I say with a smirk. “You never did.”Matteo stares at me like he’s trying to unravel me piece by piece, his green eyes sharp and unrelenting. The weight of his gaze makes my breath hitch, and I don’t know whether I want to look away or lean into him. Before I can decide, he moves.His mouth crashes against mine again, and the intensity steals what little air is left in my lungs. His lips are bruising, his hands possessive as they grip my waist, pulling me flush against him. Every inch of him feels hard and solid, just like his kiss. There’s no tenderness, no hesitation—nothing about Matteo Dragonetti is soft or gentle.And yet, I find myself giving in, matching his intensity, my hands tangling in his hair as if I can hold on to this moment, onto him, even though I know I shouldn’t.When he pulls me closer, his body settling between my legs, my pulse races wildly. His weight is heavy, but it sends a jolt of panic through me when his hands start to roam, one
Last Updated : 2024-12-12The Mafia King's Trophy 30 - Lunch And More Questions
AmaraMatteo strides into my room without knocking, as if he owns me—and maybe in his mind, he does. His presence fills the space, and before I can form a question or complaint, he’s in front of me, his hands cupping my face as he leans down to press a kiss to my lips.It’s not soft, and it’s not exactly gentle. It’s possessive, calculated, like he’s reminding me who he is and the hold he thinks he has on me. The shocking part is… I don’t pull away.When he finally leans back, his green eyes searching mine, he smirks faintly, as if he knows how much he’s throwing me off balance. “Lunch,” he says simply, offering no explanation for the kiss. “Come on.”Still stunned, I blink at him. “Lunch?”“Yes, princess,” he says, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “It’s a meal people eat in the middle of the day. Now, move.”I glare at him, my cheeks heating. “You don’t have to be an ass about it.”He chuckles as he steps back, giving me just enough space to slip past him. “I’d argue that being an as
Last Updated : 2024-12-12
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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
