Captured by the sexy mafia boss

LAURA

“That man tipped me ten thousand, girl. I’m telling you,” one of them laughed from the back of the line.

“And if we’re lucky, we’ll make ten times more tonight,” another teased, dragging slowly on her cigarette before they both burst into laughter.

I whimpered softly, rubbing my forehead. Not even the loud music from the club behind me could drown out the noise inside my head.

I had only two weeks to raise a sum of money I had never touched in my miserable twenty-four years of existence. But if what they were saying were true, I’d just found a way.

My back straightened immediately.

I didn’t need anyone to explain who they were or what they did. The only thing that mattered was this: they said they could make a hundred thousand tonight.

Without giving myself another second to think, I walked over and joined the back of the line.

A small feeling of fear settled in my chest as the queue grew shorter, but I ignored it.

Soon, I was standing in front of a man who looked like their boss.

He gave me a reluctant once-over before stepping closer.

His rough fingers grabbed my jaw and forced my mouth open as he inspected my teeth like I was some kind of animal on display.

My heartbeat intensified instantly.

I had never even considered the possibility that I might get rejected.

He finally released my face and shoved his hands into his pockets, studying me like he was deciding whether I was worth taking.

“Get in.”

My eyes widened slightly, and my shoulders relaxed in relief.

I quietly climbed into the van.

“Seriously?” one of the girls scoffed. “No screening or anything?”

“Nah,” the man replied lazily. “This one’s brand new. Never been touched.”

They sighed and shrugged grudgingly, throwing me judgmental glances.

Half an hour later, we arrived at an enormous hotel that looked less like a hotel and more like a private penthouse suspended in the heart of New York City.

It was nothing like the part of New York I knew.

Outside, the streets buzzed with passing cars, glowing signs, and endless city lights. The noise of the city wrapped around us as we stepped through the grand glass entrance and were led into a luxury suite.

A few minutes after our arrival, a tall, chubby woman in her forties walked in wearing a flower-patterned A-cut gown.

She whispered a few words to the man in charge while staring at me eerily before turning toward me.

“What’s your name?” she asked, towering above me, her golden-brown skin glowing beneath the chandelier.

“Laura,” I replied shyly.

“I’m Joyce,” she said, giving me a strange smile. “Now let’s get you ready for work.”

Before I could respond, she reached for my dress and tore the soft fabric apart with her hands.

I was given a full-body wax before taking a bath and being dressed in an uncomfortable glittery pink bikini bottom.

My long hair was curled carefully and arranged across my chest.

Then she clipped something shiny around my neck.

A pink leash. A long glittering chain hung from it like some decorative whip.

I swallowed nervously.

I can do this. I reassured myself, forcing my fear down.

“They’re ready,” the woman announced.

“What?” I stared at her in alarm. “I’m half naked.”

“No, you’re not,” she replied calmly, her eyes moving toward my hair.

The realization hit me.

She had styled my hair to act as a covering.

Her small spank against my ass jolted me back to reality.

“You’ve got good titties,” she said in her tiny shaky voice. “There’s nothing to be shy about.”

I cursed under my breath.

What exactly had I expected coming here?

I had bigger things to fear than modesty.

Remember why you’re doing this.

I squeezed my eyes shut, balling my fists tightly.

“You pretty thing,” Joyce said softly, almost sounding sorry for me. “You’re gonna need that resolve.”

Soon, we were all ready and led into a VIP section.

The room was dimly lit and smelled heavily of wood, leather, and alcohol. The atmosphere was strangely calm, almost enough to relax me.

Almost.

Until a rough hand suddenly landed on my shoulder and pointed me toward the darker end of the room.

In that instant, I lost my composure.

A cold sweat rolled down my back. All the courage I had gathered suddenly started melting away.

I turned to study the room again. Honestly, most of the men looked attractive.

Rich too.

But something about them still felt unsettling.

Dangerous.

A tall silhouette moved in the corner at the darker end of the room. If these men already looked this terrifying, then what kind of man sat hidden in the darkness away from everyone else?

“You” the big guy called, giving me a little push. “There” he gestured.

There? I’m an amateur and I got handed the strange, scary man.

I straightened my back anyway and forced my shaky legs forward.

The closer I got, the dark red lights above slowly flickered on one after another, revealing him little by little.

First, his shoes.

Then the tattoos.

God.

Dark ink crawled from his chest and wrapped around his neck like claws. A wicked fang tattoo curved along the side of his throat before disappearing beneath his shirt.

Another step closer and my breath hitched.

He was Intimidating.

The kind of man who made you painfully aware of how small you were.

He slouched lazily against the leather chair, smoke curling from the cigarette between his fingers while one ankle rested over the other.

Then finally, his face came into view.

A sharp jaw and high nose bridge.

Dark, messy hair falling over cold gray eyes that were fixed directly on me.

My emotions twisted instantly between fear and fascination.

Beautiful.

Terrifyingly beautiful.

I quickly adjusted my hair over my chest, pretending it was intentional and not because I suddenly felt too exposed beneath his gaze.

He leaned his head back slowly, releasing a curl of smoke toward the ceiling.

His eyes never left mine.

Heat crawled beneath my skin. Then slowly, he sat up. He stretched one hand toward me.

I panicked immediately.

Was I supposed to shake it?

Before I could react properly, his hand suddenly grabbed my wrist and pulled me toward him.

A gasp escaped my lips as I landed directly against his chest, my thighs spreading instinctively across his waist.

I froze.

One arm wrapped firmly around my waist, keeping me against him.

And beneath me—

My breath caught sharply.

He was already hard.

One hand remained firm against my waist while the other reached toward my chest, lazily adjusting my hair with two fingers, the cigarette still trapped between them.

“How old are you?” he finally asked.

His voice was deep.

Rough.

Dangerously calm.

“T-twenty-four.”

His eyes narrowed slightly, like he was trying to figure me out.

“Why are you doing this?”

The question caught me off guard.

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out at first.

Stupid girl.

Why was I suddenly nervous?

His brows lifted slightly, silently demanding an answer.

“I…” I swallowed hard. “For fun.”

The lie slipped out easily.

A low chuckle left him.

Not mocking. Amused.

His eyes never once left mine.

He finally crushed the cigarette into the tray beside him before gently but firmly grabbing the back of my neck and pulling me closer.

Just enough for me to feel his breath against my lips.

My body stiffened instantly.

He smelled like smoke, whiskey, and something darkly masculine that made my stomach tighten strangely.

“You’re a terrible liar,” he murmured softly.

Then his mouth crashed against mine.

The kiss stole every coherent thought from my head.

Hot, demanding, possessive. Like he meant to consume me whole.

A soft sound escaped my throat as his grip tightened behind my neck, tilting my face deeper into the kiss.

I tried kissing him back, but my nerves betrayed me, and my teeth accidentally caught his lip.

Fear shot through me immediately.

I pulled back in panic.

But he didn’t stop.

He didn’t even flinch.

If anything, his expression darkened further.

His hand tightened around my waist as his gaze locked onto mine.

Something about the way he looked at me made my heartbeat stumble.

Like he was searching for something.

Something I didn’t understand.

His mouth moved away from mine slowly, his eyes never leaving my face.

I trembled beneath his stare.

“What are you?” he asked quietly.

Fear prickled beneath my skin.

“Huh?” I whispered nervously.

His expression remained unreadable.

“Don’t move.”

The warning in his voice froze me instantly.

“One more struggle,” he murmured softly, “and I’ll forget how to be gentle with you.”

His words carried weight. He made me terrified.

My heartbeat thundered painfully inside my chest.

Every instinct screamed at me to run.

But somehow…

I couldn’t move.

His gaze held mine for several unbearable seconds before the ringing of his phone suddenly cut through the silence.

The moment shattered instantly.

He stopped.

His attention shifted away from me as he reached into his pocket, visible irritation crossing his face.

But the second he looked at the screen, everything changed.

Gone was the hunger, the amusement.

His expression became cold.

Empty.

Dangerously empty.

He answered the call silently, listening for a few seconds before standing abruptly.

I remained frozen, my body still trembling from everything that had just happened.

“Stay here,” he commanded flatly.

Then he walked away without sparing me another glance.