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Don’t Have To Know
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2025-05-16 16:48:01
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Claimed By The Mafia Boss Don’t Have To Know
ENZO MORETTI Senator Cruz arrived in a convoy of three cars. We watched as they parked, their movements precise and deliberate. The night served as their perfect cover, men in dark suits moving through the shadows along a path no one else dared to follow. The club was private—strictly members only. Senator Cruz didn’t waste a second getting into the elevator and through the double doors. Marco and I had our guns tucked securely in our pouches. We’d also brought along a few extra weapons, just in case. Sugar Land was wild like that. There was no weapon ban here. I could safely assume almost everyone had something on them. You’d think that would lead to chaos, but people mostly behaved. Stirring up trouble in Sugar Land came with consequences, severe and immediate consequences. If you started something here, the chances of leaving in one piece were slim. Things could spiral out of control in seconds and turn into a full-blown bloodbath. That made it a bad idea for most p
Claimed By The Mafia Boss New Job
CLEO GARCIA My heart raced as I sat in the taxi, digging through my pocket for change. I was stalling, and I’d done a good job of it all day. Marco had given me a task. He wanted me to take charge of their PR management, which meant I had to visit the M & M head office. I’d never been there before—never had a reason to. I was a journalist, trained in school with a Master of Arts degree in journalism. But I wasn’t a PR manager. I didn’t know the first thing about handling public image. All I knew how to do was tell stories and write headlines. A loud horn blared behind my cab, making my skin jump. My driver glanced up at the rearview mirror. A car was waiting for our spot so it could pull into the parking lot. “Please hurry up, miss. I don’t wanna get a ticket,” my cab driver said, starting the engine. He had no choice. The horn stopped once he began to move forward. I paid him because there was no more time left to waste. I’d already wasted plenty earlier. At the coffee stan
Claimed By The Mafia Boss Potato, Potato
ISABELLA GARCIA And come on, Cleo. You see how this is not my fault,” I told Cleo over the line. She’d switched from video call to voice, so I dropped my phone on the fridge. I held the fridge open and looked inside while Cleo made a disapproving sound. “Everyone has faults here, sis,” Cleo squeezed out. I glared at the phone for a second. If only my eyes could do something from here. But they didn’t. The screen stayed black and Cleo stayed quiet. “Should I state the obvious?” Cleo asked after a moment had passed. “Which is? Don’t say anything stupid,” I added as an afterthought. “You earned him a court case,” Cleo said. The fridge was still open and I got distracted from the conversation for a minute. I wanted to make something. The chicken caught my eye but I lacked patience. I would have preferred to have it marinated properly. “Oh please,” I said, deflecting Cleo’s accusation. That was all her words were, an accusation. It wasn’t the truth. “Enzo got h
Claimed By The Mafia Boss Find The Crazy
ENZO MORETTI I pulled a chair and sat down thinking about how Bobby used to be hooked up to a lot more wires. No more wires could only mean he was getting better. Bobby rummaged through the bags we’d brought for him. Every item made his eyes and heart light up with joy. The feeling was contagious. “How are you feeling?” I asked, still watching Bobby. The doctor could tell me one thing, but only Bobby truly knew what his body was going through. If the doctor said he was improving, it didn’t mean much until Bobby believed it too. “Sore.” Bobby paused and coughed. “Okay, a little less sore. Before, I couldn’t cough without my chest hurting so bad.” He was putting the bags away just as Marco opened the door to Bobby’s room. Given the situation, Bobby had to stay at one of my safe houses. It was a private place, and the doctor came by every day to check on him. Marco walked in, distracted by his phone. “Before you ask, I’m good…” Bobby began. “How are you—” Marco still asked,
Claimed By The Mafia Boss Pushing Family Away
ISABELLA GARCIA I pulled Ethan close until his shoulders pressed against my waist and his head leaned in toward me. “Get in the car, baby,” I said to Ethan. Enzo stood behind the couch, his forehead and cheeks sprouting red. He was holding himself together, barely keeping from lashing out. All morning, I’d been pushing him to the edge. I kissed the top of Ethan’s head before sending him off. Enzo’s eyes burned into the floor. As soon as the door shut behind me, Enzo stepped forward. Ethan wasn’t here anymore. “What do you want?” Enzo asked. “To take my son for a check-up without looking over my shoulder,” I said, keeping my tone flat. Enzo wasn’t impressed. He still had plenty to say. His frown stayed in place, and the fist he had made with his left hand wasn’t letting up. “You want to protect your child,” Enzo said, letting it hang somewhere between a question and a statement. “I do,” I replied. I tucked my bag under my right arm and folded my hands around my torso. “T
Claimed By The Mafia Boss Can They Do That?
CLEO GARCIA I remembered last night and all the places we had to be at. I recalled the wine, the large amounts of money, and the moving streetlights. Marco had put me to bed but now it was Isa walking around my room. Isa moved from the table to the bed. She paid me no mind. She didn’t know I was awake. I laid still on the bed, watching her move things around. I tried to blink and move my head. When there wasn't any sharp pain, I sighed in relief and swallowed. My throat was dry land and it hurt to roll things down it. I had to clear it noisily. Isa turned at that. “I thought I would have to carry you down the stairs and into the car,” Isa said, smiling softly. Her forehead was bare as she had pushed her head into a high ponytail. Her outfit was casual and simple, a stretch away from what she’d been wearing last night. It had to be morning. But if it was, where was Marco? Marco was meant to be here. He spent the night in my chair. I knew this because he’d woken
Claimed By The Mafia Boss Four AM
MARCO MARTINSCleo almost tripped in her heels, tipsy and unsteady.I caught her just in time, preventing the disaster from happening."Thank you," Cleo said, touching the side of her head. "I don’t feel good," she muttered against my hands."We’re almost there," I reassured Cleo.We had made it up the elevator. and Cleo siged against me as the staticelevator sound rang out. Carefully, I guided her to her room.Cleo had performed really well today. I could hardly believe how much fun we’d had.If Cruz hadn’t been a dick, the night would have been perfect for me."Fuck, are we there yet?" Cleo asked, her voice more strained.I looked at her for a moment. Sweat was breaking out across her forehead. She pressed her lips into a thin line and wrapped her arms around my neck.Leaning her head against me, she closed her eyes.I pressed the back of my hand to her neck—it was slightly warm."Almost there," I told her, picking up the pace.It was four in the morning.The night had been packed wi
Claimed By The Mafia Boss Dirt In The Casino
ENZO MORETTII got upstairs, washed my face and towel-dried it. A knock sounded at the door. I went to open it, thinking it was Isa, but it wasn’t her."Room service?" the lady and gentleman announced with cordial smiles."You ordered breakfast for two," the lady said.I remembered. I stepped aside and let them bring the food inside. As they were leaving, Isa appeared behind them.They exchanged polite greetings before she stepped in. The door was bolted, and I headed straight to the medium-sized breakfast table to eat.Isa walked over. For a second, I thought she was going to sit with me, but she only checked her food, picked it up, and went to the dresser.That was where she preferred to eat. At least six inches away from me."You only ever talk about Cleo. I didn’t even know you had a mum," I said, making a move to break the ice between us.The tension in the air was heavier than anything I had experienced.The truth was, my brain wasn’t ready for this conversation.We were meeting
Claimed By The Mafia Boss What Is Your Price?
ISABELLA gARCIAJust like the rest of the attendings, we made our way to the next room. This one had a more intentionally designed space.It resembled a sports field. The chairs were arranged around the stage, and an elevated surface stood in the middle of the hall with a pulpit-like structure set up nearby.A new host took the mic, tapping it lightly as people moved around the space. Enzo and I led the way and sat on one of the high-back seats.I didn’t understand why the seats were so much compared to the attendings in the hall. There were plenty of people before, but as we had moved to the next room, which was much larger, the gaps between groups became even more noticeable. It was like evryone didn't join us to the bidding room. Empty seats remained unattended to while people moved in small groups of twos and fours. We sat down, and a tray of champagne was served to us almost immediately. The staff moved quickly, acting as if they weren’t there, slipping through the empty spaces
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