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The Mafia Lord's Spitfire Captive
The Mafia Lord's Spitfire Captive
Penulis: Pearlscape519

1. Debt and Despair

Penulis: Pearlscape519
last update Terakhir Diperbarui: 2024-10-31 17:43:53

Elena's POV.

I could feel the tension in the cramped apartment, the walls almost closing in as I stood in the small kitchen, stirring a pot of instant ramen. The smell of cheap noodles mingled with the stale air, making my stomach churn. My brother Marcus burst through the door, the heavy thud sounding through the tiny space, and I prepared myself for the storm.

“Why can’t you do anything right, Elena?” His voice boomed, filled with frustration and something darker, something I had come to recognize as hatred. “Look at this mess! You’re just a bad luck charm, you know that? Ever since Mom and Dad…”

“Shut up!” I snapped, spinning around to face him, my heart racing. “You don’t get to blame me for their deaths! I didn’t ask them to drive that night!”

He stepped closer, his face a mask of rage, fists clenched at his sides. “You think you’re so innocent? They died because of you! All because you were too spoiled to take care of yourself! They went to cater to your whims, and look what happened!”

His words felt like daggers, sharp and precise, aimed right at my heart. I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks, with anger and hurt. “You think it’s my fault? You’re the one who’s failed us, Marcus! You’re just a jobless old fool sitting around, cursing the world instead of doing something about it! Look at you!”

He grabbed a nearby chair, his face twisted in a fury and desperation, and flung it across the room. It shattered against the wall, sending splinters flying. “You’re nothing but a burden! I’ve got debts piling up because of you, and all you do is sit there and mope! I’m drowning, and you’re dragging me down with you!”

I dodged to the side, narrowly avoiding the flying debris, my heart racing as adrenaline coursed through my veins. “Maybe if you actually tried to find a job instead of blaming me for everything, we wouldn’t be in this mess! You can’t just sit here and drink all day, pretending everything will magically fix itself!”

His eyes darkened with contempt “I should have left you behind with those deadbeat parents of ours! Maybe then I wouldn’t be cursed to live with you! You’re the reason we’re living in this dump!”

I couldn’t hold back the laugh that escaped my lips, sharp and bitter. “Cursed? You think you’re the only one suffering here? You think I wanted to live like this? Newsflash, Marcus! I was a kid, and you were supposed to look out for me! But you just stand there and throw your tantrums like a child.”

His face turned crimson, veins pulsing at his temples. “You don’t know anything about suffering! You were too busy being a spoiled little brat, and now you think you’re entitled to lecture me? You’re pathetic!”

“Pathetic?” I shot back, stepping forward, fury igniting my every word. “Look in the mirror! You’re a deadbeat loser who’s too afraid to step outside and face reality! You think yelling at me will make your problems disappear? It’s time to grow up, Marcus!”

We stood there, locked in a battle of wills, the silence heavy with our unresolved anger. I could see the fury boiling just beneath his pale skin, a reminder of how far we’d fallen from the lives we once had. My breath came in sharp bursts, the heat of the moment igniting every nerve in my body. I was done being his punching bag.

“Get out of my way,” he finally hissed, shoving past me with enough force to knock me slightly off balance. “I have things to do.”

I stared at his back as he retreated to his room, my heart pounding in my chest. I wanted to scream, to cry, to let the anger and hurt pour out of me. But instead, I clenched my fists, knowing I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me break.

“Fine, Marcus. But I won’t be your scapegoat forever,” I whispered to the empty kitchen, the echo of his insults still ringing in my ears. This was my life now, a chaotic mess of anger, resentment, and the fading memories of what once was.

I was still fuming from the argument with Marcus when a loud crash echoed through the apartment, pulling me from my thoughts. I instinctively glanced toward the front door, my heart racing. It sounded like something, or someone, had just been thrown against the wall.

I rushed out of the kitchen and into the living room, my pulse pounding in my ears. What I saw made my stomach drop. Four hefty men in black suits surrounded Marcus, their faces dangerous menacing. Marcus was backed against the wall, his expression shifting from anger to fear as he struggled to come up with some excuse.

“What do you want?” he stammered, his boldness faltering. “I told you I’ll get you the money!”

The largest of the men stepped forward, his voice a low growl. “You told us that last week, Marcus. But you still haven’t paid up. You’re running out of time.”

“Just give me a little more time!” Marcus pleaded, his hands trembling as he tried to push past the men. “I swear, I’ll have it for you by next week. I…”

Before he could finish, the brute in front of him swung a fist, connecting with Marcus’s jaw. The sickening sound of bone meeting flesh filled the room. Marcus staggered back, pain spreading across his features as he crumpled to the floor.

“Don’t waste our time with your pathetic excuses,” another man snarled, grabbing Marcus by the collar and lifting him off the ground. “You either pay up within 24 hours, or you can say goodbye to this life.”

I couldn’t stand there and watch any longer. “Let him go!” I screamed, rushing out of the apartment and into it all. “You can’t do this to him!”

The men turned to look at me, their expressions were of surprise and amusement. “And who are you?” one of them scoffed, narrowing his eyes at me.

“I’m his sister! You can’t just hurt him like this!” I felt the adrenaline coursing through my veins, and I moved forward, ready to defend Marcus despite my own fears.

The largest man sneered, a cruel smile spreading across his lips. “Your brother is in deep trouble, sweetheart. It’s too late for him to play the innocent card.”

“Shut up! You don’t know anything about us!” I yelled, my voice rising as I faced them defiantly.

The man holding Marcus tossed him back to the floor like he was nothing more than a rag doll. “Your brother has twenty-four hours to find our boss's money. Otherwise, he’ll take a quick visit to hell and stay there.”

Marcus groaned on the floor, clutching his jaw, and I could see the humiliation on his face. “I…I can get it!” he gasped, his boldness shattered as the pain of the blows sank in. “Just… Please, give me more time!”

They ignored him, stepping closer, towering over him like predators. “We don’t do second chances. You know the rules.”

Without warning, the biggest one swung a kick at Marcus’s side, and he cried out, the sound echoing painfully in the hallway. “If we don’t see that money by tomorrow, you’ll wish you hadn’t crossed us.”

The men laughed coldly, clearly enjoying the spectacle. I felt my heart hammering in my chest, fury mixing with fear as I screamed, “Get away from him! Leave him alone!”

But it was like I wasn’t even there. They stepped back, the leader tossing a glance over his shoulder as they began to walk away. “Time’s ticking, Marcus. Don’t keep us waiting.”

With that, they turned and walked toward the door, leaving Marcus groaning on the floor, his face bruised and battered. I rushed to his side, kneeling down, desperate to help him. “Marcus, are you okay?”

He grimaced, trying to push himself up but collapsing back to the floor. “I’ll be fine,” he muttered through gritted teeth, but his eyes were filled with pain and humiliation. “Just… go back inside, Elena. It’s nothing.”

“Nothing?” I shot back, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. “They just beat you up! What were you thinking getting involved with those men?”

He glared at me, frustration spreading across his features. “What do you know about it? You’re just a spoiled brat!”

“Maybe I was spoiled, but that doesn’t mean I deserve to watch you get killed because of your mistakes!” I was yelling now, my voice cracking with emotion. “You need to do something about this, Marcus! You need to fix it!”

He buried his face in his hands, groaning in defeat. “I can’t,” he whispered, his voice muffled. “I don’t have the money. I don’t know what to do…”

Just then, I heard the roar of engines outside as the men in black suits piled into their cars. They sped off, leaving us in a silence that felt heavier than the blows Marcus had taken. I glanced down at my brother, who lay on the floor, b

roken and defeated.

“Great,” I muttered, my heart racing with fear. “What now?”

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  • The Mafia Lord's Spitfire Captive    2. The Betrayal

    Elena's POV.I watched in disbelief as Marcus strolled back into the apartment, holding a plastic bag with a bottle of some fancy drink peeking out. It was evening and there was a different kind of look on his face. For a second, I almost thought he looked… calm. Too calm."Here," he grunted, setting the bottle down on the rickety table in front of me. "Figured you'd want something cold after that… scene you caused." His voice was oddly smooth, almost friendly…a tone I hadn’t heard in years.I looked from him to the bottle, suspicion bubbling up like bile in my throat. "What is this?" I asked, narrowing my eyes. “Since when do you buy me anything?”Marcus forced a tight smile, though his eyes stayed cold and hard. "Oh, come on, Elena," he said with a laugh that didn’t reach his eyes. "I just thought I’d do something nice for once. You can keep acting like a brat, or you can just enjoy the drink."His words stung, but the mocking edge in his voice stung even more. He raised an eyebrow

  • The Mafia Lord's Spitfire Captive    3. The Spitfire's First Glimpse Of Hell

    Elena's POV.Marcus’s desperate voice was still shouting, pleading as if his life depended on it…which, I supposed, it did."Please, Mr. Moretti," he choked out, soaked and shaking. "Take her. She can be… she can be anything you need her to be. Just please… please…"“Enough!” Dante’s voice roared through the rain, a cold command that made everyone freeze. Marcus shut his mouth instantly, staring at Dante like a cornered rat, trembling as he waited for his verdict. My heart raced; for a second, I dared to hope. Maybe this man would laugh in Marcus's face, give him a final warning, and let me go.But then Dante’s gaze fell on me again, and my stomach knotted. He looked me up and down, with his eyes dark and calculating. Every second stretched out as he silently sized me up, the power he wielded radiating like a dark cloud. My skin crawled under his piercing stare, every instinct screaming at me to run. As if I could.And then, as abruptly as it started, the rain stopped. Like some twist

  • The Mafia Lord's Spitfire Captive    4. Intrigued

    Dante's POV.As I made my way to the room, it was the middle of the night, hours after I'd handled that betrayal. Bloodstains had long dried on my cuff, a reminder that some people needed their fate handed to them in pieces. That idiot Marcus hadn't been any different, trading his own sister like she was some bargaining chip. It still amazed me how daily a man could see his soul…and in this case, his family, for a little relief from debt. But now, I was left with the baggage he'd dropped at my doorstep.The girl was in the room at the far end, the one we typically reserved for prisoners with... potential. Her name was still in my head; Elena. The name suited her, sharp but delicate. Yet, I wasn't sure what she thought she could do here, trussed up and at my mercy. I pushed the door open, letting it creak closed behind me. She was standing next to the window, hands and legs still bound in ropes, like a pathetic figure standing against the city lights. Her hair, which was still damp fr

  • The Mafia Lord's Spitfire Captive    5. Forbidden Temptation

    Dante's POV.I leaned in, close enough that I could taste the tension in the air. "Curious if that sharp mouth of yours is worth all the trouble it causes," I murmured, tracing my thumb over her lips. "Or if you're just all talk.”A flash of anger lit her gaze, a spark that only seemed to fuel the amusement I felt building with me. But I held her gaze, my thumb was still resting against her mouth. She was helpless here, her hands tied, her body tensed under my stare, but her eyes...those damn hazel eyes...still held their challenge."Go on, then," she sneered, her voice defiant. "Do your worst.”The words hung in the air, her voice daring, but I noticed that faint tremble behind them, a hesitation that gave her away.I raised an eyebrow, letting a slight smirk pull at my mouth. "Is that a challenge?"Her lips pressed into a thin line, the fire in her eyes flaring, but she didn't answer. For a second, I was just...staring, captivated by the strange mix of strength and vulnerability she

  • The Mafia Lord's Spitfire Captive    6. Bound And Unbroken

    Elena's POV.The door clicked shut, and I exhaled a shaky breath as Dante finally left. The tension in my shoulders started to ease, but my heart still hammered in my chest, half-expecting him to change his mind and storm back in, deciding I’d outlasted his patience. Each word I’d said felt like walking into quicksand…dangerous, unpredictable, and he’d kept meeting my every comeback with that look, the one that told me he wasn’t used to being challenged. I hadn’t exactly expected him to be amused by it.The ropes were biting into my wrists, rough enough to scrape my skin raw. I twisted my hands a little, trying to get even a hint of relief, but all I got was a deeper ache. I wanted to scream in frustration. So, what now? Was I just supposed to stand here like some prize waiting to be claimed? Helpless, irritated, and still recovering from my confrontation with the devil himself, I was left wondering how long I’d have to endure this.Suddenly, the door opened again, and I held my breat

  • The Mafia Lord's Spitfire Captive    7. A Feast For The Starved And Willing

    Elena's POV."Eat up," Carla said, giving me a measured look as she placed the tray on the small table in the corner of the room. "Boss’s orders."I forced my voice to stay steady. “He’s… feeding me?” The disbelief in my tone was hard to mask.Carla shrugged, giving me a small, almost sympathetic smile. “Let’s just say he doesn’t like loose ends.”Right. That sounded about right. Feed me before he kills me.As soon as Carla left, I slid the door shut, taking a long moment to stare at the feast in front of me. Roast chicken with crispy, golden skin that looked like it’d crack under a knife. Fresh vegetables, sautéed with garlic and butter. A warm roll, straight from the oven, with a small pad of melting butter on top. And a chocolate dessert that gleamed under the lighting, like it belonged in some five-star restaurant I’d never step foot in.My stomach roared, and I couldn’t stop myself. I dug in, tearing at the bread like it was the only thing holding me together. The warm, flaky cru

  • The Mafia Lord's Spitfire Captive    8: Captive Thoughts

    Dante's POV.The lights were low, has shadows across the room, turning every curve, every movement, into something primal. The air was thick with the scent of perfume and sweat, a blend of desperation and desire. Around me, my men were lost in pleasure, tangled in limbs, mouths locked in passion, oblivious to the world. Women spread themselves over them, a mess of silk, skin, and sin. They were exactly where they wanted to be, and yet, I stood there, fully dressed, in the middle of an orgy.A brunette with a sharp jawline slid up to me, pressing her bare body against my side. Her hands trailed down my chest, teasing, challenging. “Dante,” she whispered, lips brushing against my ear. “Don’t you want to play?”I stared ahead, ignoring her, my jaw clenched. She pulled back, her eyes searching mine with a small pout, clearly not used to being dismissed. I saw the confusion flash across her face before she turned away, off to find someone who would appreciate her offer. Around me, women vi

  • The Mafia Lord's Spitfire Captive    9. The Dress Up

    Elena's POV I was deep in a dream, laughing with my older brother, Marcus, as we threw rocks into the lake. He looked so real, his face full of joy like when we were kids, and I felt... safe. Then, a sharp knock pulled me from that warmth. My eyes shot open, heart pounding, and I realized the laughter, the lake…all of it was just a dream. The knock came again, louder, more insistent. "Miss Elena?" A soft voice came from the other side of the door. I sat up, blinking, still a bit dazed. No one ever called me “Miss” here. It didn’t feel like an endearment; it felt... unsettling. “Who is it?” I managed, my voice harsh and wary. The door creaked open, and two young women slipped inside. They looked like servants, dressed in crisp uniforms, faces calm but unreadable. “We’ve come to assist you, Miss Elena,” the first one said with a slight bow. “On the master’s orders.” The master’s orders? I stiffened, feeling the pit of unease grow in my stomach. Why would Dante send maids

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  • The Mafia Lord's Spitfire Captive    24: Escape In Motion

    Elena's POV.I couldn’t breathe, my legs were burning, but I couldn’t stop. Not now. This was my chance to escape. This was it. I had to get away from Dante, away from all the madness, the punching from Lorenzo, the blood, and most of all, his insane demands. What had he brought me here for? To kill me? Was this some sick joke?I pushed myself harder, ignoring the way my feet stumbled in the ridiculous old woman’s shoes. The heels wobbled, but I didn’t care. I had to run. I had to get out of this nightmare.I could hear his voice behind me, shouting, his footsteps thundering closer. "You can’t get away from me, Elena. You belong to me." His words were cold, deadly, like he truly thought I was going to let him have his way with me."Go to hell, Dante!" I screamed over my shoulder, barely glancing back as I ran.My heart raced, fear and adrenaline mixing in my veins. I couldn’t even think straight, I was just running. Running from him. Running from my fate.In my panic, I grabbed whatev

  • The Mafia Lord's Spitfire Captive    23: A Wrinkle In Crime (II)

    Dante's POV.The moment I saw Elena crumple to the floor, blood spattering from her mouth like it meant nothing, I snapped. My pulse surged with a fury that could only be called pure rage. I didn’t even think. The guy was too slow…too cocky…pushing Elena down, then towering over her like he could do anything he wanted. I saw it all in slow motion: the vile look in Lorenzo's eyes, that damn smirk, as he stood above her, chest heaving in fury, his fist already pulled back for another hit. She was still weak from the damage I’d seen her suffer these past few days, that goddamn wound on her throat that made her struggle to speak, to even breathe right. And now this?“No one touches her.”I didn’t even remember walking toward him. My body was already in motion before my mind could process it. I slammed my fist into his jaw with everything I had, the sound of it was a sickening crack, a sick symphony in my head as he stumbled back, blood pouring from his busted lip.But it wasn’t enough. I

  • The Mafia Lord's Spitfire Captive    22: A Wrinkle In Crime (I)

    Elena's POVThe smell of cigar smoke and expensive cologne was thick in the air, making me nauseous. My knees were weak, partly from fear and partly from the ridiculous shoes Dante’s team had shoved onto my feet. The false teeth in my mouth were making it difficult to breathe, let alone talk, and I cursed Dante for putting me in this situation. I was disguised as an old woman…a frail, hunched-over figure supposedly reunited with her long-lost son.The "son" in question, however, was none other than Lorenzo "The Butcher" Bellucci. His name alone sent chills down my spine, and now here he was, standing before me with a trembling lip and watery eyes. Lorenzo was a large man, thick with muscle, his suit straining against his chest. His presence was as suffocating as the smoke-filled room, and he sniffled loudly, his eyes scanning me with disbelief and desperation."Madre?" he whispered, his voice trembling. His men exchanged glances, their beefy frames blocking every exit. I forced myself

  • The Mafia Lord's Spitfire Captive    21: An Unlikely Disguise

    Elena's POV.The fourth day arrived, and I was sitting on the bed, poking at the bowl of tasteless soup Clara had left for me. My throat still ached, but the pain was bearable compared to the frustration bubbling inside me. It had been four days since I last saw Dante. Four days of silence, unanswered questions, and restless nights. And then, just like that, the door to my room burst open.Dante walked in, his towering frame and cold, commanding presence filling the space. For a second, I forgot to breathe."You’re better now," he said, his voice sharp and unwavering. "I need you to work with me."I blinked at him, stunned. “Excuse me? Work with you?” My voice cracked slightly, and I winced, but I didn’t stop. “You vanish for four days, and now you show up like nothing happened? Are you insane?”Dante didn’t flinch. He didn’t react at all. His dark eyes bore into mine, unreadable and cold.Before I could say more, he motioned to the men behind him. “Take her.”“What…no! Don’t you dare

  • The Mafia Lord's Spitfire Captive    20: Unwanted Concern

    Elena's POVThe pain was endless. It wrapped around my throat tightly, squeezing with every breath I took. I tried to swallow, even just the thought of swallowing hurt. The only thing I could manage was the lukewarm broth Clara brought me, and even that felt like I was drinking shards of glass.I stared at the tray on the bedside table. The small bowl of soup mocked me. I hadn’t eaten properly in two days. My stomach growled angrily, but the thought of attempting to sip more liquid made my eyes water.“Come on, Elena,” I whispered to myself, my voice raspy and barely audible. “You need to eat something.”I picked up the spoon with trembling hands, but as soon as the first sip touched my tongue, my throat rebelled. I coughed violently, tears streaming down my face as the pain shot through me like fire.Clara rushed into the room, her face pale with worry. “Elena, stop! You’re going to hurt yourself more,” she said, gently taking the spoon from me.“I... I need to eat,” I rasped, my voi

  • The Mafia Lord's Spitfire Captive    19: Nightmares and Attack

    Dante's POVThe nightmare came again, dragging me into its merciless grip.I was running…lungs burning, legs heavy, my blood soaking through the shirt I had pressed against the wound on my side. Every step echoed in my head, the thud of my shoes against the ground blending with the screams. I pushed through the door, desperate, calling her name."Isabella!"Her name ripped from my throat like a prayer, but what greeted me was the sight of her crumpled on the floor, her pale hands clutching her swollen belly. Blood. So much blood."Isabella!" I dropped to my knees, shaking her, begging her to open her eyes. But they were lifeless, staring at nothing. My hands were wet with her blood as I held her close, her warmth fading as I screamed into the void.And then her lips moved…not with words, but with a final, fleeting breath. The baby...our baby...gone."No!" I roared, thrashing against the memory, but it wouldn't let me go.The sound of my own voice woke me, yanking me back to reality. I

  • The Mafia Lord's Spitfire Captive    18: Unsettling Vulnerability

    Dante's POV.I stood by the doorway, my arms crossed, my face set in a cold mask, but inside, there was a tugging irritation, a feeling I rarely entertained. Elena lay on the bed, her skin pale, her breathing still labored as she tried to rest. I hadn’t planned on seeing her like this, hadn’t expected to feel the grip of tension that had lodged in my chest when that damn bone had gotten stuck in her throat.Damn it, she wasn’t supposed to have this effect on me. She was nothing more than a pawn in a bigger game, a woman tossed my way as payment for her brother’s betrayal. And yet, I hadn’t expected her to be so… stubborn. So aggravatingly defiant, even when faced with someone like me. Her boldness was endless, enough to leave an imprint.I watched as Dr. Marco worked carefully, his expression calm and unhurried. Marco had been with me and my men for years, stitching up bullet wounds, setting broken bones, never batting an eye. But even he seemed to take his time with Elena, his hands

  • The Mafia Lord's Spitfire Captive    17: Choke

    Elena's POV.I sat alone in my room, waiting, my heart pounding in my chest. Every sound in the house felt like it was Dante coming to finally make good on his threats. Part of me was sure that he’d storm in any moment, a dark shadow ready to end me. But the hours passed, and nothing happened.Then, finally, there was a knock on the door. My heart leapt, fear tightening my throat. I steeled myself, prepared to see Dante’s cold eyes on the other side. But it wasn’t him. It was one of his men. He was stone-faced, giving nothing away, just standing there with his dark suit and unreadable expression.“Mr. Moretti wants to see you,” he said flatly.My heart sank. So, it was time. I forced myself to get up, refusing to let my fear show. If this was how it would end, I’d at least face him with my pride intact. I wouldn’t beg. I wouldn’t show weakness.The walk to the dining room felt endless, the halls lined with men who looked at me as though I were some fragile thing about to break. Their

  • The Mafia Lord's Spitfire Captive    16: Blood and Memories

    Dante's POV. The crowd parted as I walked through the square, their eyes wide with fear, parents pulling their children back, vendors abandoning their carts. Whispers of my name slithered through the air, and it was exactly what I wanted. I wanted them to see. To know what happened when loyalty was a lie. I spotted Luca first, cowering against a fruit stall, his face pale and trembling. When he locked eyes with me, he looked like he’d seen the devil himself. Good. That’s what I was to them…a devil in human form. “Dante…” he whispered, his voice barely more than a breath. I took a step closer, narrowing my eyes. “Is that all you have to say, Luca? After you betrayed everything you owed to me?” My voice was cold, each word a shard of ice sinking into him. He began to stammer, his hands raised, palms out as if he could ward me off. “Boss, please… it wasn’t… I didn’t…” “Didn’t what?” I leaned in, close enough to see the sweat beading on his forehead. “Didn’t sell me out to Ange

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