All Chapters of His Control: The Mafia’s Prisoner: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

"You seem to have forgotten that I now own you, Tesoro," he muttered. Now, Balia was flush against him, both of her palms flattened against his chest, and there was a way he had said those last words like cream was being poured on velvet cake. The word rolled out his mouth so smoothly, and Balia felt her knees weaken.But no, she wasn't going to let this man see how his words weakened her, how his touch made her want more. She was going crazy. Since last night, after seeing how he had fucked Cenzia, he was all she could think about, and she wished that, at this moment, he would bend her over like he had bent Cenzia over. She was starting to get jealous. It wasn't a good feeling. "Can you let me go?"His eyes raked down her body. She wore a light purple dress that didn't get to her knee. She remembered this dress. She had liked it the instant she saw it, mostly because of its colour, and then she wore it and fell in love with it the more. It hugged the curve of her tiny waist, fall

Senna's private jet waited on the rooftop of one of his companies. It had been prepared an hour before his arrival, and when he got to the tarmac, a hostess dressed in a pair of royal green penciled skirts and a white shirt with a cherry red muffler tied around her neck ushered him into the private jet. Batista had nearly fucked things up, and now he was left to finish the job. This was what he hated about people. As long as it wasn't their business, they never fully invested in it, and he had trusted Batista to do this well. Well, he wasn't going to make this mistake again. The door to the jet was closed, and the air hostess came into the plane bearing a chrome tray of sparkling wine and a champagne flute. "Sir, would you like to have a drink?""In a few minutes, please," He replied as he took out his phone and dialed Placido's number. He hadn't gotten in touch with him for the past two days, and he was starting to worry that things on his end had gotten shitty. "Sir," Came his v

Senna's POVFor starters, if Marchetti thought I was stupid, he should have said it straight to my face. A fucking empty warehouse? I didn't need anyone to tell me that there was something up in here. I could sense danger as soon as I stepped in with Batista. We were surrounded by men with guns, waiting for an order from their boss.But unbeknownst to him and his men, Batista's men were stationed in strategic points, trained snipers who knew what to do with their guns. I stopped in the middle of the empty building and looked around. "Marchetti, you know I am not one for games. If you've got something to talk about, then come out to say it to my face."There was silence for a while, and then I heard footsteps coming from behind us. We turned to see Marchetti walking into the warehouse with a gun pressed to his side. "Well, hello there. It's been how many months since we last saw? Three?""Two months, three weeks, five days, and about fifteen hours. I love how reminiscent you are."H

Balia's POVSenna was at the table, and a cup of steaming hot coffee sat beside him as he leafed through files. They probably contained information about the people he was to kill. I saw things like these in movies.How was he able to do this with a straight face? Wasn't he supposed to feel sinful for all the evil acts he'd been committing? I guess bad people do evil to the fullest—immorality at its finest. Tina had just set my food before me when Senna slapped the file on the table. He folded his fingers into one another and stared right at me. "You were asleep when I came back last night," He began. I picked up my spoon and scooped the soup into my mouth. What was he expecting? A reply? A reply, my ass. "You heard what I said, didn't you?"Sighing, I dropped the spoon on the space beside me and looked him in the eyes. He still had that cold glare on. "And what do you want my reply to be? Oh, yes, I was sleeping. There, you have it."He lowered his head and picked up his fork. "I

Balia didn't care if she was naked. She didn't care if Tina or any other person saw her naked. She walked through the door leading out of the dining room with slight difficulty, and she was sore all over.He had handled her without minding if she enjoyed it or not, and she hadn't. Not at all. She had hated every moment of it, and she wished there was a way she could erase all of these from her head. It was going to haunt her for a while. As she stepped onto the steps, her hand gripped the railing, and she trudged weakly up the stairs. She slipped into her room and went into the bathroom, washing herself with so much vigor. She didn't want to feel his touch on her, didn't eat to feel his scent on her skin from when he had pushed her against his skin and their sweats had mingled. She sat on the bathroom floor as hot water from the shower poured against her skin. As soon as she was done bathing, she cleaned her body up and slipped into a pair of cotton pants and a small tube. She f