The pain radiated from my neck as Clayton’s grip tightened, his fingernails digging deep into my skin. The knife still hovered dangerously close to my face, and I gasped for air as his cold breath tickled my skin. “Don’t think for a second you’re getting out of this,” he hissed, his voice venomous.
Then, without warning, the pressure eased. But it wasn’t mercy—it was a shift in position. I stifled a breath, the knife finally leaving my face. He crossed in front of me, bending over my shoulder, his body hovering close. His grip remained firm on my neck, and I could feel his heat, his body pressed into mine as he reached behind me. He cut the ropes binding my hands, but I could barely think as his presence loomed over me; the weight of his body on my shoulders held me in place.
When the ropes finally gave way, my hands were free, and I gasped, moaning from the relief on my sore skin. My chest tightened, but it didn’t last long. In a split second, the tension in my body snapped into a frantic desperation to escape, so I bit down hard on the side of his belly, positioned close to my face as he was still hung over my body. I sank my teeth into his side, my mouth clamping onto his flesh.
Clayton shrieked, standing upright abruptly as he tossed the knife away, and it clattered to the floor. He stumbled back with a howl of pain. His hand pressed to the wound, clutching it as blood seeped from his shirt to his fingers.
“You little whore—” he hissed, shrieking from the pain.
I saw an opening to escape, and I didn’t hesitate to take it. I darted toward the table where I’d seen the room key earlier. Three steps—just three more steps and I could get the key to my freedom.
But Clayton was too fast. His hand shot out, grabbing my hair and yanking me back so violently that my body slammed against the floor with a sickening thud. The pain shot through my spine, a deep ache radiating from my tailbone. Before I could recover, he was on top of me, still clutching my hair; his fist collided with my face, the blow ringing in my ears. I cried and pleaded desperately.
Tears blurred my vision as more hits came to my body. I screamed, my hands futilely trying to block them. Each one harder, leaving my face throbbing and my lips swollen and bleeding. My body crumpled under his assault, my sobs choking in my throat as I begged,
“Please... I beg of you." I choked out as blood dripped from my lip.
But Clayton wasn’t done. His voice dropped to a menacing whisper, “You think you’re clever, right?” He got up and grabbed my arm, jerking me upright, only to slam me back onto the bed. His fist struck me again, and everything went numb except for the overwhelming pain and fear.
“Have mercy…” I gasped, my voice trembling with fear.
His eyes burnt with rage, his hands shredding my clothes. “Don't bother kicking; it’s useless,” he hissed. His breath came fast and shallow as he pinned me down between his legs. His cold, merciless eyes never left mine as he squeezed my left boobs in his palms.
“You’ll learn obedience,” he murmured, shifting my pants aside with his fingers. I lay there, exhausted, my strength drained; my body went limp as I gave up. He ignored my weakness, and I felt his fingers invade me; he thrust three fingers deep into me at once.
A scream tore from my throat, “No! No, stop!”
Clayton’s merciless grip, his cold breath, and the searing pain flooded my mind, suffocating me. I could still feel the phantom touch of his hands, the weight of his cruelty pressing into my skin.
Suddenly, reality shifted. My body jolted upright, the memory snapping into my present. My chair screeched loudly against the floor, and my panicked movements sent me crashing into something solid behind me.
“Allison!” Someone yelled.
The startled gasp of a waiter broke through the haze; colourful drinks splashed across the floor, shards of glass reflecting the overhead lights. My hands trembled uncontrollably as my chest heaved. But then a firm hand gripped my shoulders, and a touch on my face calmed me. That’s when reality completely snapped back. My eyes widened, and the confusion melted away as I recognised Doris standing in front of me.
“What’s wrong with you? Doris asked, her face frantic with concern and inches from mine.
“I... I don’t know,” I muttered, trying to steady myself, but the restaurant felt unreal; everything seemed distant, like I was somewhere darker, yet the criticising whispers of people filled the air.
“What the fuck happened? What did I do?” I gasped, tears flooding my eyes as regret overtook me. I could barely breathe, my hands trembling uncontrollably as I wiped the tears away and looked around.
Doris held me, trying to steady me, but the ground felt unstable beneath me. The waiter stood nearby, drenched in the liquid I splashed on him, when I flew up from my seat abruptly. His colleagues rushed to come help him.
I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean that." I muttered apologetically to him, my voice shaking. I reached into my purse and shoved ten $1,000 bills into his hands.
“T-Thank you,” he stuttered, his voice and eyes full of disbelief. But I didn’t need his gratitude. The room was shrinking in on me, the eyes of the people around me pressing on my skin like they could see my brokenness. Their eyes were heavy with judgement.
“Are you okay?” Doris asked, her voice soft but insistent.
“I don’t... I don’t know,” I muttered, struggling to steady myself. “I just need to go,” I whispered, refusing to meet her gaze.
“Just pay, please. Let’s leave,” I whimpered, my voice barely audible. I couldn’t bring myself to explain it. Not here. Not now.
Doris looked concerned, but she only nodded. She signalled for the check, and as we stood waiting for our bill, the guards rushed in. Dave scanned the scene with suspicion. “What’s going on? Did someone bother you?” he demanded, shooting the waiter a deadly look.
“No,” I whispered, still unable to meet anyone’s eyes. “I need to leave. Now!” The walls seemed to close in around me; I needed the air, the space, anything to break the suffocating grip of the moment.
Dave picked up my bag and phone, leading us out, while the other guards formed a protective semicircle around us. The weight of peoples’ stares pressed into my back, each one a needle prick of humiliation.
---
Once we were in the car, I sat in the back seat, trying to steady my trembling hands. The car ride felt long, even though I had only been there for just a few minutes. Doris sat beside me, her eyes scanning me, but she didn’t press me further. When we were on the road, I noticed the screen of the phone on the car phone holder and saw Dave was calling someone.
“Is that Dontrell?” I asked, the words falling from my lips before I could stop them.
“Yes,” he replied, his eyes flicking to the screen. “I’m trying to get a hold of him, but he’s out of reach.”
“End the call,” I said, my voice calm, but I could feel my rage building up.
“What? Why?” He asked, sounding confused. “I need to let him know about you. Sir Dontrell specifically asked for a report on your outing today.”
“End the fucking call! Before I jump out of this moving car!" I shouted, my voice rising as I slammed my fist against the seat in front of me, feeling the car jolt from the force. Doris immediately grabbed my left arm, a subtle sign that she wasn’t going to let me jump out.
“Not a word of what happened today gets to him!” I stated conclusively, steadying my breath and controlling my anger.
Without missing a beat, Dave hung up the call. He didn’t slow the car down; he didn’t take his eyes off the road.
“I’ll take you home so you can rest,” he said, his tone neutral.
“No,” I replied flatly.
“No?” Doris asked, her voice gentle and full of concern. “You need to go home, love. You need to relax.”
“What I need is a distraction, a trip to the pool, swimming and enjoying the night lights,” I said, turning my gaze toward her.
Doris sighed, clearly concerned. “I don’t buy that idea. You’re not in the best state to swim.”
“Good, I’m not selling it either,” I snapped, turning my gaze away from her.
“Dave, take us to any private pool you know,” I ordered.
“Yes, ma,” he responded without hesitation.
“This night is just for us,” I muttered. “We swim. We drink.”
“You’ve had enough alcohol for the night, Allison,” Doris said. “You should just swim when we get there. You’ve only just started drinking recently, and you don’t know how much your body can handle.”
“Well, I hope this body can handle about twelve shots or martinis,” I said, my voice sharp.
“Over my dead body will I let you drink that much again after what just happened tonight,” Doris shot back, her expression firm.
“We’ll see about that,” I said, my voice steady, staring out the window as the city lights blurred by as if everything were normal.
Thank you so much for giving The Mafia's Angel Ordeal a chance! I know the opening chapters focus on setting the stage for the intense drama and complex relationships to come, but trust me—the romance and erotica are just around the corner. I truly appreciate your patience and support as the story unfolds!
"Hours of talk, and the loverboy here still thinks peace will save us," Clayton growled, his eyes cold. He sat opposite me, alongside my father, his demeanour as sharp as a blade, and the way his eyes settled on me made it clear who the insult was aimed at."For every action, there’s an explanation. If the Regent infiltrated our warehouse, there must be a reason—perhaps he was threatened." I responded, leaning forward with a calm that I didn’t entirely feel.Clayton scoffed, his gaze deadly. “Or perhaps he wanted to use it to expand his arms trade and build his empire! The Circle wants us weak so they can name a new Godfather. If we don’t act, we lose everything.” His words hung heavy, and I couldn’t ignore the way his fists clenched with restrained fury.I glanced at my father, who sat still, his expression unreadable. He was always silent in moments like these—the calm before the storm. I knew better than to underestimate him. My father, the Godfather of Los Angeles, always had ruth
The smoke from Clayton’s gun lingered as the man crumpled to the ground. Clayton holstered his gun, his cold gaze fixed on the body. “Get rid of him,” he ordered, his tone like ice. The security men swiftly dragged the corpse out. He turned back to the council. “This is our time to act. Call the Graves’ second-in-command—no deals, no mercy.”The room was tight with tension as Clayton spoke. His words were sharp, cutting through the heavy air like a blade. I stiffened at his bluntness. Clayton had no patience for diplomacy.Simeon, the Graves Gang's representative, shot to his feet. His eyes burnt with anger, his voice booming across the room. "You can’t accuse us of killing our boss. Of robbing you." His words echoed, thick with indignation."No one mentioned robbery, Simeon. Yet you seem to know about it.” Clayton shot back.I turned my gaze toward Simeon, locking eyes with him. Every man in the room was watching him now, waiting for him to break, but he struggled for words, caught u
The lavender scent clung to the air as warm water cascaded over me, washing away exhaustion. The shower was my refuge—a brief escape from everything. Dontrell was still asleep in the bedroom, the house eerily quiet.My thoughts drifted to my father and Nadeem—it had been too long since I’d heard from them. My new phone, constantly under Dontrell’s surveillance, was only available to me on days he allowed it, and even then, I couldn’t text anyone without his permission. My father’s betrayal of my mother’s memory still haunted me; the news of the amount of trafficked women he had slept with was a dark reminder of the broken man he’d become. A faint sound outside the bathroom door broke the silence. I paused the shower and called, “Dontrell, is that you?”No answer. I peeked out from behind the tub’s curtain, a massive shower with frosted glass. My breath caught; the ensuite bathroom was luxurious—polished marble, gold fixtures—but it was empty.I shook off the unease and turned back t
My chest heaved, exhaustion pulling me under. I stopped struggling, resigning myself to his touch.He gripped my waist and pressed closer, lifting me slightly and positioning himself to penetrate, sending a gasp from my lips. A shiver ran through me as he teased me, just barely intruding. I felt the barest intrusion of his tip in my love hole. A sensation that set every nerve alight. My body braced instinctively, expecting him to take more.But then, he stopped. Just as quickly as he advanced, he pulled out. Relief, confusion, and something darker churned in my chest, leaving me breathless. The tension was unbearable until Dontrell’s voice shattered it.“Not tonight,” he muttered, his voice rough as if wrestling with his restraint. He pulled back, his touch lingering only briefly before retreating entirely. My chest heaved as I turned to face him, confusion and relief swirling through me. He ran a hand through his hair, the tension in his muscles evident. “I didn’t save you to hurt y
The smoke from My Father's Bon-Cadeau pipe filled the bathroom, casting shadows over his sharp features, amplifying the menacing air around him. His immaculate dark suit hugged his powerful frame. A man radiating authority, the kind that commanded both respect and fear. I tensed, my pistol still in my hand, the safety clicked off from when I’d thought I’d need it moments earlier. The audacity of him barging in burnt through me.He stood in the doorway, a figure carved out of shadows and smoke. His gaze slid past me like I wasn’t even there. His smirk deepened when he saw Allison clutching the towel tighter around herself, his eyes lingering on her a moment too long. “Next time, don’t bother hiding behind the curtain. It won’t help you.” His voice cut through the tension, sharp and biting. I didn’t respond right away; I just felt the anger bubble up.Allison’s soft voice broke the silence. “Good morning, sir,” she said, barely above a whisper.His eyes flicked over to me, colder tha
The door clicked shut behind me as I stepped into the room. My father sat in the centre of the room, expression unreadable, framed by the chandelier light. The room carried an air of suffocation—a mix of cigar smoke and silence so heavy it seemed to choke any sense of comfort. Clayton leaned against the far wall, coiled, ready to strike. Andrew stood near the window, his arms crossed and his posture relaxed but calculated. Two additional bodyguards loomed by the door, their eyes fixed on me. I held up a hand, stopping any attempts at conversation. "Give me a moment." I walked past them into my closet, shutting the door. The hangers clicked as I pulled on black slacks and a shirt. No shoes, no jacket—this was still my house, even if it felt like enemy territory presently. When I returned, I found Clayton pacing, his anger almost palpable. My father hadn’t moved from his position, his demeanour as though he owned not just the room but everyone in it. When I returned to the room, Clay
I froze in the bathroom doorway, my pulse racing. The air around me was thick with tension, the echoes of the women’s cries still haunting my ears. But it was his eyes—dark and piercing—that held me captive. “Come here, Dove,” he said, his voice like velvet and steel.My feet felt glued to the floor, and my body refused to move. “I won’t ask again,” Dontrell warned, his tone colder now.My feet began already betraying me as I stepped forward, closing the distance between us, each step feeling like a death sentence. When I stopped in front of him, Dontrell reached out, grabbing my neck. His touch was gentle but heavy, like a shackle, locking me in place.“Were you listening?” he asked, his eyes searching my face.I swallowed, panic rising in my chest. I couldn’t lie to him. He’d see through it instantly.“I heard... some things,” I said, my voice shaking.He studied me for a moment, lips pressed into a tight line. “You shouldn’t have.”“I didn’t mean to,” I rushed to explain. “I hea
The snap of the bracelet echoed through the room, and the tiny beads scattered like shattered stars across the cold marble floor. “No! No!” I screamed, dropping to my knees, hands trembling as I frantically tried to gather them. Each bead that slipped felt like my heart breaking again."“Why would you do this?” I choked, my voice raw.“Because you need to let go of him,” Dontrell said, his voice sharp but laced with something deeper. “You can’t keep living in the past.”I looked up, tears falling. “You don’t get it! This wasn’t just a bracelet—it was all I had left of her!”He rubbed his eyes. “I understand more than you think. I’ve lost more than you know. But that bracelet—it's a chain from your father. It's keeping you trapped.”You don’t get to decide that for me!” I shouted, clutching the broken strands. Memories flooded back—my mother weakly smiling in her hospital bed, slipping the bracelet onto my wrist. “Each charm represents us,” she whispered: the heart for you, the crown
Celine and I had been sparring for what felt like forever. Arms aching, chest burning. She moved like a trained warrior—stronger and faster. Her punches slammed heavily — overpowering me every time.I was just a rich girl with ballet training— completely out of my depth—while she looked like a soldier turned milk tart. She landed a blow, knocking me backward. But I wasn’t going to give up that easily.With a quick jump, I managed to land a blow to her chest. The impact made her stumble back, but it wasn’t enough to stop her. I used the opportunity to kick her, my heel driving into her soft spot. Celine shrieked, clutching her chest and crotch, face twisted in pain. She gasped and bent over.I sprinted toward the table, fumbling for the remote, my fingers trembling. I slammed the green button three times before the robotic voice said, ‘Door Open.’"Yes!’ I screamed, sprinting for the door… Before I touched the handle, the door slammed open from outside with brutal force. I staggere
The bass thumped under my heels as I slipped through the hallway, my heart pounding in warning. Guests danced below while something ugly twisted above. I shouldn’t have followed her, but pain and jealousy don’t ask permission.Clayton warned me to stay low. But jealousy cuts deeper, and pain drowns reason. I saw Celine slip into another corner. She walked like she wanted to be followed. She glanced back once, just enough to bait me. Her fake confidence infuriated me enough to follow.Fifth floor. Sixth. The party noise disappeared entirely. It felt like I’d stepped into another world. With each step up, the world grew quieter. Now it was just the two of us—she leading, I hunting.She turned into a hallway and entered a door, leaving it slightly ajar. I waited—five, ten seconds.She didn’t come back out.I walked up and pushed the heavy door open without knocking. No pretending.The room was cold, too bright. No sunlight—just chandeliers spilling light over velvet drapes, marble f
The car stopped, cameras flashing from all angles, their lenses like hungry eyes trying to pierce the tinted glass.I adjusted the slit of my dress, trembling more from rage than from concern for my appearance. My jaw tightened, teeth gritted. I hadn’t forgiven him. Not even close.Back in the penthouse, I had nearly ripped that burgundy suit off his body and set it on fire. But Dontrell didn’t flinch, didn’t even raise his voice as my fury crashed over him. He stood like a goddamn wall of storms and blood, letting me throw my tantrum.“You done?” he asked, his voice as cool as ice on fire.I blinked, stunned by his nonchalance. “Excuse me?”“You want to kill someone tonight?” he asked, calm as ever, when I threatened to end Celine. “Fine. Let me hand you the match, but why kill only her when you could burn them all out there?”I cursed, flung my purse at him, and told him I wasn’t a pawn to parade. He didn’t argue. He stepped closer, his breath fire on my skin, voice low.“I’m not
I opened the door and stepped into the room, every nerve in my body fried. I kicked off my heels and dropped my bag. Their thud against the marble barely registered. My chest tightened, my skin prickling. Shame coiled around me, dragging the weight of my guilt.‘What have I done?’I’d let that bastard touch me.My stomach twisted as I crashed onto the bed, face up, trying to process how I went from hating him to begging him to ruin me. I used to hate everything he stood for. He was filth, a reminder of every bad decision I vowed never to repeat. And still… I spread myself on that table for him. I let him into my body like he hadn’t violated my soul.I rubbed my arms like I could erase the feel of him. The way I let it happen.I groaned, disgusted with myself, but my body didn’t care—the heat still burnt between my thighs. I tossed on the bed, arm over my eyes, trying to drown the memory.CLICK. A door creaked open, snapping me back.My heart slammed as I sprang up, adrenaline slicing
I was pinned. His cock was inside me. Deep. Stretching. Filling. “Fuck,” I gasped, nails scraping the wall.Clayton’s hands gripped my thighs like he owned them, spreading me wider, fucking me harder. His cock slammed into me, brutal and thick, every thrust shaking my bones.“Don’t look at me like that. You know you don’t matter to me.” He growled into my ear, voice jagged with heat. “The moment I cum, I'll forget this ever happened. I’m not the type of man who stays around for aftercare sex. So don’t wait for one either.” He thrust again.I choked on a moan. “Fuck you.” He laughed.His mouth latched onto my neck, sucking hard as he drove deeper, faster. His body was fire against mine, sweat-slick between us, his abs tightening with every thrust.I was already trembling. He hadn’t even slowed.He reached down, grabbed my ass with one hand, and used it to bounce me harder onto him. My legs dangled. I couldn’t speak—only moan.“Clayton—fuck, keep going—”He heard.He shoved deeper. Th
The room was cold—or maybe it was just him. Arms folded, gaze sharp like a blade.My heart hammered, but I refused to back down.“How are you this calm? Someone just died.” His eyes locked on mine. Cold. Because he already knew.Of course, he did. Clayton didn’t just play the game—he built it, set the rules, and broke them when it suited him.I stared at him. He didn’t deny it, just watched me. But his silence said everything.“My contact told me a few hours ago. The official report says he touched a naked wire. But that’s not what happened. And we both know better. It was a hit. A clean one.”He went on, calm like he was reading a weather report.“Dontrell did it. He didn’t like that I left that cell untouched. And he’s trying to be extra careful since I’m out now. So, he tied the loose end.”My mouth went dry. “He had him killed?”Clayton nodded once. “Suffocated. With a pillow laced with carfentanil—the kind that stops your heart before you scream. Then they finished him with a w
“I didn’t do it to betray you,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.Clayton didn’t flinch. He didn’t even blink. He just stared at me, cold and still, like my words were just noise blowing through a storm he had already survived.“Then why, Allison?” Clayton snapped. “Why pay some street rat to tail me, digging through my business like I’m just some suspect on a list?”My stomach twisted into a hard knot. “You weren’t giving me the truth. I needed answers.”He sighed and sat on the edge of the desk, his body so close to me. “So instead of asking me, you go behind my back like a coward?”I exhaled.“No,” he laughed bitterly. “Not a coward. A traitor.”“Don’t call me that,” I said quickly, but my voice broke.He tilted his head, his eyes burning into me. “Why shouldn't I? You went snooping where you had no business. You treated me like the enemy. Like I haven’t bled for you these past few days.”“I needed to protect myself,” I said, voice shaking. “You kept me in the dark.”“I told
I turned off the main road long before anyone could see me, slipping through the narrow, unmarked path that wound between tall hedges and rustling trees. The evening light cast everything in gold and shadow—perfect for disappearing.The compound was quiet. No guards in sight. No movement. Just high walls, iron gates, and a silence that buzzed like static in my ears.I killed the humming engine and parked in the corner where the cameras wouldn’t catch me—if there were even cameras at all. My heart thudded once, hard, as I stepped out, leaving the car behind. An unsettling calm that felt anything but safe came upon me.My heels crunched against the gravel, every step echoing louder than it should’ve.The house loomed ahead. I walked fast but careful, every footstep a risk. No one must know I was here.Before I could even lift a hand to knock, the door clicked open.He’d been watching.I stepped inside without hesitation. As soon as my heel touched the marble floor, the door clicked shut
“How could you even think that?” I whisper, my voice shaking. “After everything we’ve been through?” My back rested against the bedroom wall. Dontrell stood before me, chest heaving like a brewing storm, jaw ticking with fury.”“You think I’d trade your love for his lies? After all we'd survived?”He stepped closer. My breath hitched, but I didn’t flinch.”“Clayton’s a distraction. Don’t give him the relevance he craves —don’t let him win.” I touched his chest, letting the silence carry my words. “If you have to ask me that… then maybe he’s already won.”He still looked unconvinced.“You’re the only man I’ve ever needed,” I whispered, looking away, hurt. “If you don’t know that by now… Maybe you never really knew me.”He stood still, but I could see the tension start to fade from his shoulders. My tears spilt freely, on purpose.“I didn’t want the world to think I came between you two,” I whispered, trembling. “I didn’t want to be the reason the Blade bloodline went to war.”I reached