บททั้งหมดของ Sold to the Mafia Boss : บทที่ 11 - บทที่ 20

Logan's P. O. V. " Take me straight home " I ordered my driver as soon as I entered the back door. Nodding slightly, he shuts the door after me and sits back behind the wheel, driving off and into the streets. I wouldn't care about going home on other days but right now, I felt I needed to be at home right that minute. The thought of Layla had crossed my mind several times as I stood inside that house. I clenched my teeth, fixing my suit and noticing a blood stain on the faded blue color of my inner shirt, around my wrist. He'd been close enough to get his blood on me. I looked away, trying to relax my clenched jaw. Images of Layla probably trying to escape now that I wasn't in the house appeared in front of my eyes, causing me to smirk wickedly. She'd be a fool to try to escape. Like the last time, she was definitely going to make a run for it. Especially when she notices that she's all alone. But I had eyes in every nook and crannies in the house. The large Victorian gate

I watched my reflection on the mirror as I ran my hands on the burgundy shift dress. The corset necklace is traced with glittering stone. I didn't need to be told to know that this dress probably cost a fortune. Expensive things didn't really need tags, the qualities easily gave them away. After returning up to this room earlier, a woman with ocean blue eyes and a red hair walked in. She was dressed in all black top and skinny jeans. She opened the door and stepped in with a long pink Moll bag. She didn't say a word to me after dropping it off on the dresser. She'd held her chin up, as if scared to even make eye contact with me. Like she was scared of something. I wondered if she was one of Logan's workers or if she had just been phoned from a random clothe store to deliver a dress to the house. I couldn't bring myself to say a word to her, mostly because she left just as soon as she walked in. There'd been a black stilettos underneath the dress, boxed separately as the boxed dress

As his back disappeared completely through the glass walls, I turned away to see Beverly rummaging through her bag. " Alright...." She said " let's get started on your ideal type of clothes " she sits down on the closest lounge chair. Logan went out of his way to get me someone who would bring clothes to me. How long did he intend to keep me locked up here? I took the sit on my dresser chair and faced her, my eyes glancing at the door every now and then. She points a chart book to me, showing the different types of clothes drawn and sketched on the white paper. Clothes ranging from the different kinds and colors of gowns, tops, jeans, blazers and jackets, shoes and bags. I couldn't bring myself to know what I wanted to pick. All my life all I've worn were faded and old jeans with sneakers or my old flats that I'd refused to outgrow since getting it at the age of fifteen. I was always dressed in t-shirts and sometimes overalls to school. I hardly wear gowns and when I did,

Logan's P. O. V. You never know what it's like to be in pain, what it's like to feel like you couldn't breathe unless you held on to someone until the only person you've ever loved, who has ever loved you gets killed in front of you. And you realize that the only hand you needed to hold on to so you could breathe had just been snatched from you. That was the agonizing pain I felt when I saw Santiago DeAngelo get killed right in front of my eyes. It was still the same trauma that keeps me up at night, knowing that I was right there that night and couldn't save him. I'd watched him from the rope he'd been tied with as he took his last breath. I could still feel the pain compressing down on my chest now as I traced my thumb on the antique silver cufflinks in my palm, staring at it's shimmering light in the dark car as we proceeded towards Dani's direction. Santiago DeAngelo was my uncle. The only man who had ever loved me purely, who had taken me in when my fa

Layla's P. O. V. I slowly rose from the edge of my bed when I thought I heard a sound coming from some place around the house, presumably from the backyard of the house. I walked closely to the door and pressed myself against it, listening for any sound of movement but it was all silence after that. Maybe the sound wasn't from anywhere near. It was getting dark outside and I was getting hungry. I haven't seen any signs of Logan the whole day. I knew he was still in the house but was refusing to come see me. I started thinking about the possibilities that I might have offended him earlier but I couldn't put my hand on it. I felt disappointed in myself when I realized I was actually starting to like his company, by even merely thinking and wondering why I hadn't seen him at all. This is what happens when all I get is his face every day. I slightly tapped on the door and it slid open. I stepped out and walked down the stairs that I'd so mastered by now. I cornered the large sit