The dim glow of the warehouse lights flickered, casting long shadows across the cold concrete floor. The air was thick with the acrid scent of cigar smoke and whiskey, mingling with the faint metallic tang of blood. In the center of the room, Rafael De Luca sat like a king on his throne—broad shoulders relaxed, muscular frame exuding dominance as he swirled the amber liquid in his crystal glass.
His emerald-green eyes, cold and calculating, locked onto the trembling man kneeling before him. A low, humorless chuckle escaped his lips as he watched the man’s pathetic attempts to beg for his life. "Please, Rafael," the man stammered, sweat dripping down his temples. "I—I didn't mean to cross you." Rafael arched a dark brow, amusement flickering across his sharp features. "Didn’t mean to?" he repeated, his voice a deadly purr. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees, and studied the man with cruel patience. The traitor—a low-level arms dealer who had foolishly believed he could sell Rafael’s weapons to a rival family—flinched under his gaze. "It was a mistake. I swear. I—I can fix this. Just give me a chance—" A sharp clink echoed in the silence as Rafael set his glass down on the polished wooden table beside him. His fingers drummed against his knee, slow and deliberate. "I don’t believe in mistakes," he said coolly. Before the man could plead further, a gunshot shattered the quiet. The sharp crack rang through the warehouse, followed by the sickening thud of a lifeless body hitting the floor. Rafael barely glanced at Dante, his most trusted enforcer, who was tucking his gun back into the holster beneath his jacket. "Get rid of him," Rafael ordered. Dante nodded, already dragging the corpse away, leaving behind only a dark smear of blood on the floor. Rafael exhaled slowly, adjusting the cuffs of his black silk shirt. There was no rush of adrenaline, no lingering satisfaction—only cold efficiency. He had grown numb to executions years ago. His mind was on something far more important. His phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out, glancing at the name on the screen. A flicker of anticipation curled in his gut. Finally. Pressing the call button, he brought the phone to his ear. "It’s done?" A low voice answered. "Yes. She’s completely unaware. The girl is innocent, untouched by this world. Just as you wanted." Rafael’s grip on the glass tightened slightly, his jaw clenching. Sophia Moretti. The name alone sent a rush of dark satisfaction through him. The daughter of the man who had destroyed his family. The girl he had spent years watching from the shadows, his obsession growing with every passing day. She had no idea her fate had already been sealed. "Good," he murmured, tilting the glass against his lips, savoring the burn of whiskey as it slid down his throat. He licked a stray drop from his lips before setting the glass down. His fingers traced the edge of the table, his mind already envisioning her—long dark hair cascading down her shoulders, big innocent eyes that held no knowledge of the darkness that lurked in the world. In his world. The world she was about to be pulled into. "Bring her to me," he commanded. There was no hesitation in his voice. No mercy. Tonight, innocence would be stolen.The city hummed softly in the distance, the neon glow of streetlights reflecting off wet pavement. It was a quiet night, the kind Sophia Moretti usually enjoyed—cool air, the faint scent of rain, and the gentle solitude of walking home after a long shift at the bookstore.But tonight, the darkness felt different.She pulled her cardigan tighter around her body, a faint shiver crawling down her spine. Maybe it was just exhaustion. Or maybe it was the way the streets were unusually empty, the silence pressing in like a suffocating force.Sophia wasn’t the type to be paranoid. She had walked this route a hundred times. But as she turned the corner onto a dimly lit street, an uneasy feeling curled in her stomach.Someone was watching her.She glanced over her shoulder, but there was nothing. Just shadows stretching along the sidewalk, flickering beneath the dull glow of streetlamps. Still, the feeling wouldn’t leave.Across the street, inside a black SUV, Rafael watched.She was everythin
The hum of the engine was steady, the car’s interior thick with tension. Sophia’s body trembled, every muscle tight as she fought against the reality of what had just happened. She had been taken. Stolen from the safety of her quiet life and thrown into the hands of a man who radiated power and danger.The leather seat beneath her felt too soft, too luxurious, a cruel contrast to the fear gripping her chest. Her wrists were still trapped in the iron-like grasp of the man beside her—Rafael De Luca.The name meant nothing to her, but the way he carried himself, the way he looked at her like she was already his, sent ice-cold terror down her spine.Sophia’s breath came fast, erratic. Her heart pounded violently against her ribs, but she refused to sit still. She twisted in his grip, kicking her legs, trying to push herself away from him."Let me go!" she screamed, her voice cracking with desperation.Rafael didn’t flinch. If anything, amusement flickered in those emerald-green eyes as he
Darkness.Sophia’s world had shrunk to the suffocating press of the silk blindfold, the smooth fabric cool against her skin. Without her sight, everything else intensified—the hum of the car’s engine, the leather seat beneath her, and most of all, him.Rafael De Luca.He sat beside her, his presence an unspoken weight in the confined space. She could feel his eyes on her, feel the raw power radiating from his body, and it terrified her. He hadn’t hurt her—yet—but there was something far worse than pain in the way he spoke.Possession.He acted as if he already owned her.Her breathing came fast and uneven. “Where are you taking me?” she demanded, trying to keep her voice steady despite the blindfold, despite the unknown.A deep chuckle rumbled from his chest, so smooth and dark it sent a chill down her spine. “Home.”Her stomach clenched. “That’s not my home.”His fingers brushed against her wrist, slow and deliberate, as if he were savoring the feel of her pulse racing beneath his to
The grand foyer of the mansion swallowed Sophia whole.Marble floors gleamed beneath the soft glow of chandeliers, their golden light casting shadows that flickered like ghosts. The air smelled rich—like leather, wood smoke, and something darkly masculine. Like him.Her pulse pounded in her ears as she took an unsteady step forward. Everything about this place screamed power, control—a cage disguised as luxury.Rafael stood beside her, his gaze unreadable. He hadn’t touched her since they’d stepped inside, but his presence was an unspoken command, an invisible chain wrapped around her throat.Sophia’s hands clenched into fists. She needed to think. She needed to get out.She turned sharply, fixing him with a glare. “You can’t keep me here.”Rafael’s lips curled at the corner, slow and knowing. “I already am.”Her stomach twisted, but she refused to let fear win. “Someone will come looking for me.”He took a step closer, towering over her. “Who?”The single word sent ice through her ve
The silence in the mansion was deafening.Sophia stood in the grand foyer, her heart still pounding from Rafael’s parting words."Then run, little rabbit."The way he said it, the smug confidence laced in his voice—it made her skin crawl. He saw this as a game, but she wasn’t playing. She was fighting for her freedom.Her gaze darted around the space. Every exit seemed sealed, the towering windows too thick, the doors guarded. She needed a plan. A way out.Taking a slow breath, she moved forward.The mansion was massive, each hallway lined with art, expensive furniture, and a haunting stillness that made her uneasy. It was a beautiful prison—designed to trap her without walls.She passed a room with a roaring fireplace, the flickering glow casting golden light over deep leather chairs and bookshelves that stretched to the ceiling. It felt like a space Rafael would sit in—a king in his castle.A shiver ran down her spine."I’ll make you want to stay."She swallowed hard, pushing forwar
Sophia stood in front of the dining room doors, her fingers curling into the silk fabric of the dress she had been given. It was smooth, expensive, and hugged her body in a way that made her feel more exposed than protected.The dress wasn’t a gift. It was a message.A reminder that she was in his world now.Taking a steadying breath, she pushed open the heavy double doors.The dining room was breathtaking—high ceilings, golden chandeliers, and a long, polished table set for two. Only two.Her stomach tightened.Rafael was already there, leaning back in his chair like a king surveying his kingdom. His dark green eyes locked onto her immediately, piercing through her composure.She forced herself to keep her steps even as she walked toward the table.“You came,” he murmured, his deep voice smooth as silk.Sophia met his gaze. “Did I have a choice?”Rafael smirked, his fingers idly tracing the rim of his wine glass. “Not really.”Her jaw clenched.A servant pulled out a chair for her. S
Sophia’s pulse pounded in her ears."I’ve been watching you for a long time, Sophia."The words twisted in her mind, wrapping around her like a noose.Rafael leaned back in his chair, swirling the wine in his glass, utterly relaxed—as if he hadn’t just shattered her entire sense of reality.Sophia gripped the edge of the table, her breathing shallow. “What the hell does that mean?”His emerald eyes gleamed with something unreadable. Something dark.“It means exactly what I said.”Her stomach twisted.“This isn’t a coincidence,” she whispered.Rafael smirked. “No, piccola. It never was.”Her chair scraped against the floor as she pushed back, needing distance. Needing air.“You’re insane.”He merely lifted his glass, taking a slow sip. “Possibly.”Sophia shot to her feet, her heart slamming against her ribs. “I don’t belong here.”Rafael tilted his head. “And yet, here you are.”She turned toward the doors, her breath hitching. Run. Now.But before she could take a step, a hand clamped
Sophia's breath came in uneven bursts, her fingers digging into the fabric of her dress as she stormed down the dimly lit hallway. Rafael’s words still echoed in her mind. "I’ve been watching you for a long time, Sophia." Her stomach twisted. How long? Had he been lurking in the shadows of her life, orchestrating events, pulling invisible strings to bring her here? The thought made her want to scream. She needed air. She needed out. Her heels clicked against the cold marble floor as she turned blindly down a corridor. The mansion was massive, an endless maze of hallways and locked doors. Locked doors. Her pulse spiked as she reached out, fingers curling around a handle. She twisted—locked. Panic started to crawl up her throat. She tried another. And another. Every single one was locked. A tremor ran through her body. No. No, no, no. This wasn’t just captivity. This was a cage. A beautifully crafted, inescapable cage. Sophia took a shaky step back, her heartbeat hammerin
Sophia could still feel the ghost of Rafael’s touch long after he had stepped away.His words—You belong to me.They weren’t just a statement.They were a warning.A declaration of ownership.And the worst part?A dark, twisted part of her wanted it to be true.Wanted to be his.But that realization terrified her.Because Rafael DeLuca wasn’t just a man.He was a storm, a fire, a predator.And she wasn’t sure if she wanted to escape him—or burn with him.A Dangerous GameThe next morning, Sophia woke up to the smell of coffee and something rich, something decadent.She blinked, disoriented, before realizing she wasn’t in her own bed.She was in Rafael’s.The sheets were soft, silken, infused with his scent—cologne, smoke, and something unmistakably him.Heat crept up her neck as she recalled the night before.His touch.His words.The way he had stripped her of every illusion she had of being in control.She sat up quickly, her pulse pounding.The door to the bedroom swung open.Rafae
Sophia knew she should resist.She knew she should fight back against the possessive certainty in Rafael’s voice.But the moment his fingers brushed against her skin, all reason evaporated."You don’t own me," she whispered, though the words sounded weak even to her own ears.Rafael smirked.His grip on her chin tightened slightly, tilting her face up so she had no choice but to meet his gaze."Say it again," he murmured, his voice like velvet-wrapped steel. "Convince yourself, if you can."Her pulse pounded."You don’t—"He cut her off.Not with words.But with a kiss.It wasn’t gentle.It was devouring, consuming, a kiss that burned with the force of all the things he hadn’t said.Sophia gasped against his lips, her hands instinctively pressing against his chest—to push him away, or to pull him closer, she didn’t know.Rafael took the choice from her.In one swift motion, he backed her against the wall, pinning her beneath him."You feel that, piccola?" he murmured against her lips.
The warehouse on the outskirts of the city smelled of iron and fear.Rafael stepped inside, his presence a storm waiting to break.Matteo stood near the center, his expression tight."We caught two of them, boss," he said, nodding toward the men kneeling before them, their hands tied behind their backs, their faces bruised and bloody.Rafael’s gaze swept over them, his fury ice-cold.One of them had the nerve to lift his head."You think you scare us, DeLuca?" the man spat, blood dripping from his mouth.Rafael didn’t react.He didn’t need to.Instead, he took a step forward, his movements slow, deliberate.Then—without warning—he struck.His fist collided with the man’s jaw, sending him sprawling onto the concrete floor with a sickening crack.A strained groan escaped the man’s lips as he struggled to push himself up.Rafael crouched beside him, gripping his hair and yanking his head back."You made a mistake," Rafael murmured, his voice eerily calm.The man coughed, blood staining h
Sophia knew she should stop.She knew she should push him away, demand distance, regain control.But as Rafael’s lips claimed hers again, as his hands tightened around her waist, all logic crumbled.This wasn’t just lust.It was possession.Raw. Overwhelming. Unrelenting.His body was pressed against hers, his heat searing through her dress as if he could burn his mark onto her skin."You think you can walk away from me?" he murmured against her lips, his voice thick with desire and something far more dangerous.Sophia’s breath hitched.She had never felt this before.This level of craving, this absolute need.His hands skimmed up her sides, fingers dancing over the curve of her waist before sliding down to grip her thighs.With a swift movement, he lifted her.Sophia gasped, instinctively wrapping her legs around his waist, her arms clinging to his shoulders.Rafael smirked, dark and wicked."That’s right, piccola. Hold on to me."And then—He turned, striding toward his bedroom.The
Sophia barely slept that night. Even in the sanctuary of her apartment, Rafael’s presence lingered—on her skin, in her mind, deep in her bones. She had spent hours replaying every touch, every whispered word, every dark promise in his gaze. And despite her better judgment, she wanted more. She should have been afraid. Because Rafael DeLuca wasn’t just dangerous. He was lethal. And now, she was standing at the edge of a precipice, staring into the abyss of what it would mean to belong to him. To be owned by him. A chill ran through her, but it wasn’t fear. It was excitement. And that terrified her more than anything. The Call That Changed Everything Sophia was nursing her second cup of coffee when her phone rang. Her pulse spiked at the unknown number. She hesitated before answering. "Hello?" Silence. Then— A low chuckle. A man’s voice, unfamiliar and smooth as silk. "You’re quite the enigma, Sophia Moretti." Every muscle in her body locked. "Who is this?" Anoth
Sophia’s back pressed against the cold metal of her car, her breath shallow as Rafael’s lips trailed a searing path down her neck. The night air was cool, but she felt feverish—her skin hypersensitive, her body betraying every ounce of logic screaming in her mind. This wasn’t just a kiss. This was Rafael staking his claim. And the worst part? She wanted him to. His hands gripped her waist, pulling her even closer, his body an unyielding wall of heat and muscle against hers. "Tell me to stop," he murmured against her skin, his voice rough, edged with restraint. Sophia swallowed hard. She should. She should push him away, get in her car, drive far from this madness. But when she opened her mouth, the only words that escaped were, "Don’t stop." A low growl rumbled from Rafael’s chest. And then— He devoured her. His lips crushed hers in a kiss that was pure fire—ruthless, demanding, consuming. Sophia gasped against his mouth, her hands fisting his shirt as he deepened the
Sophia’s footsteps echoed through the dimly lit hallway as she fled Rafael’s office, her heart slamming against her ribs. Her body still burned from his touch, her mind trapped in the aftermath of his dominance. She needed air. She needed distance. She needed to forget the way his lips had felt against her skin, the way his presence had drowned out all logic. But as she stepped into the cool night air, the weight of Rafael’s words clung to her like a brand. "I could ruin you, and you’d love every second of it." Sophia shivered, but not from the chill. Because deep down, she feared he was right. A Battle of Wills She stalked toward the parking lot, her heels clicking against the pavement. This was a mistake. Coming here, confronting him, thinking she had any control in this game. Rafael DeLuca was a man who played with power like it was an extension of himself. He dictated the rules, set the traps, and waited for his prey to step right into them. And she had walked in will
The heat from Rafael’s body still lingered on Sophia’s skin long after he stepped away. Her mind was a battlefield of contradictions—rage, shame, and something far more dangerous—desire. She wanted to scream at him, to slap that arrogant smirk off his face. But her lips were still swollen from his kiss, her breath still uneven, her body still betraying her. And Rafael knew it. His emerald eyes glinted with dark satisfaction as he leaned lazily against the desk, watching her with the patience of a predator that had all the time in the world. “You can keep running, piccola,” he murmured, his voice smooth as silk. “But I always catch what’s mine.” Sophia’s nails dug into her palms. “I’m not yours,” she snapped, forcing the words past the lump in her throat. Rafael chuckled, a deep, sinful sound that sent a shiver straight through her core. “Then why,” he mused, stepping closer, “are you still here?” Sophia’s breath caught as he lifted a hand to brush a strand of hai
The dim light of the room cast shadows on Rafael’s sharp features, making him look even more predatory—like a wolf that had finally cornered his prey. Sophia’s chest rose and fell rapidly as she fought for control, but the fire in her veins betrayed her. His hands were heavy on her hips, his fingers pressing into her skin with a possessive force that sent a dangerous thrill through her. He was everywhere. His scent. His heat. His dominance. And she—she was drowning in him. A War She Can’t Win Rafael’s emerald eyes locked onto hers, his pupils dilated with a hunger that sent a shiver racing through her. His thumb traced the outline of her lips, slow and deliberate, watching as she trembled beneath his touch. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this moment,” he murmured, his voice dripping with dark promise. Sophia’s throat tightened. “I don’t belong to you,” she whispered, trying to sound defiant, but her voice wavered. His smirk was lethal. “Oh, piccola,