Lovers of dark romance/Mafia Erotica gather here! đ Allison is a 21-year-old girl whose father abandoned their family years ago, leaving her to shoulder the burden of caring for her sick mother and twin siblings. She works multiple manual jobs, including as a cleaner at one of the city's most luxurious hotels, determined to make ends meet for her family. Her life takes an unexpected turn on a fateful day when she crosses paths with Clyde Butch. Clyde, a mysterious and powerful man, is in the city for business and staying at the hotel where Allison works. While cleaning his suite, Allison, sweaty and exhausted, decides to cool off in his bathtub, thinking no one would catch her. But Clyde does. Instead of anger, her bold yet innocent actions intrigue him. Seeing an opportunity, Clyde manipulates the situation to draw her into his life. He hides his true identity and makes her fall for him. But as Allison is swept into Clyde's dangerous world of bloodshed, gangs, and crime, she faces a harsh reality. Can she survive in his world of secrets and violence? Or will it break her completely?
View MoreThree days.Thatâs how long sheâs been gone. Disappeared like smoke in the wind. No calls. No texts. No trace.Three excruciating days without Allison, and still, I can't find the words to describe the slow, brutal agony of surviving each one. My lungs feel like theyâve forgotten how to breathe. Sleep? Forget it. I havenât closed my eyes since the night she vanished.Sheâs got me on the fucking edge, unraveling me piece by piece. And now I know, with brutal, painful clarityâI canât function without her. Not as Clyde. Not as the Viper. Not as anything.Every search has led to a dead end. No leads. No footprints. No mercy.Even her mother was no helpâher eyes swollen from crying, but her voice flat and clueless. When Diego questioned Clara, there was the faintest shift in her expression. Subtle, but telling. Something about the way her gaze dropped too quickly. The tightness in her throat when she said, âNo.â"Are you really sure she didnât say anything to you? Not even a hint?""No," C
Clydeâs POV The mart stank of blood, gasoline, and fear. A single overhead bulb flickered weakly, casting a yellowish hue over the bruised man kneeling at my feet. One of his eyes was swollen shutâa gift from Diegoâs fistsâand his cracked lips trembled with desperation.âWhere is she?â I asked, my voice a low snarl that slithered through the room like venom. Cold. Controlled. Lethal.The old manâs breath came in short gasps. âPlease⊠I only lent her a phone. Thatâs all, I swearâGod knows I donât know where she went.âWrong answer.Without needing to speak, I tilted my chin at Diego. The crack of bone followed. The man crumpled to the ground with a strangled cry, fingers scrambling to clutch my legs like a dying prayer.âPlease⊠spare me,â he whimpered, voice thick with phlegm and regret. âSir⊠I beg of you.âI kicked him off with a slow, merciless motion, my boot slamming into his chest. My rage was a living thing nowâblack, hot, and crawling beneath my skin.Grabbing his collar, I y
The room echoed with the loud shot, the crack of it splitting the air like a lightning strike. My ears rang for seconds, sharp and shrill, as if the sound itself had buried into my skull.Fear gripped me in a stranglehold. My heart stoppedâjust stoppedâas the moment stilled, suspended in a nightmare. The chandelier above quivered, then came crashing down with a heavy, jarring thud, shards scattering across the floor like glittering knives.When I open my eyes, they meet Saidaâsâand what I see there sends a shiver down my spine. Fear. Real, gut-deep fear. For a second, I donât know if itâs hers or mine. Then his voice slices through the tension like a blade, cold and cruel, dragging us back into the horror. He made the shot. Of course, he did."I swear the next bullet will be piercing through your skull, Saida," he gritted out, voice low and sharp like gravel. His hand didnât flinch. The gun was still pressed into her head, the metal digging into her skin like a promise."Do not spoi
Allisonâs POVThe darkness stretched deeper than I could imagineâthick and suffocating. My weary mind drifted through it, lost in the endless struggle between myself and the world. Between reality and madness.If a person could sit still for this long, tied up and barely breathing, without losing their mind⊠it would be considered magic. If that kind of shit was even real. But I was still here. Still breathing. Barely.And even in this void of silence and cold, all I could think aboutâwas him.Clyde.The images came uninvited, sharp and vivid. Him with blood on his hands. Him orchestrating a drug empire with that calm, lethal stare. It didnât have to make sense. The stories werenât supposed to rhyme. But they did. They rhymed too well. Too perfectly. Like a puzzle I hadnât meant to solve.Now here I was. Shackled. Nearly naked. Freezing. Bones aching and bruised, skin raw against the stone floorâbut none of it compared to the pain burning in my stupid heart.And thenâfootsteps.Echoes
Clydeâs POVThe harshness of the alcohol burned my skin as I rode through the city at speed, darkness wrapping around me like an old friend. That familiar numbness, that rage-filled silence, swallowed me whole. I stared hard at the latest picture on my phone. That same damn number. A new set of photos. This time, she was clad in only her underwear, chained to a bed. She looked smaller than she had this morning. And my cold, cursed heart ached beyond words. âWeâll get her back, Clyde. I promise you.â Diegoâs voice rang out inside the car. I was holding the phone so tight it might snap in half. Too late. I was fucking too late. Now I had even bigger problems than before. The warehouse had been three hours out of the city. When we got to the cafeteria they were both gone. Will and my girl. And just when I tried to figure out where the hell theyâd gone, my phone beeped again. That same number. That sick, twisted image of my precious lamb. Caught in bondage. And a m
Allisonâs POV Every part of me burned with worry as I made my way across the street. The cafeteria's light spilled into the dark alley, but it did nothing to lighten my mood. It was a blurâthis moment of weakness. Accepting this invitation even when I knew, deep down, that this single meeting could destroy everything. Fortes worth saving. Or not? My eyes landed on him as I strolled into the cafeteria. Itâs always been our favorite spot from when we were teenagers, a place etched with too many memories to count. He smiled and waved at me as I approached. But when I got close, I realizedâhis bruises had darkened. Clyde definitely hit him hard. A sharp pang filled my chest, tight and unforgiving. All this was my fault. "I can't say how proud I am of you for coming." "Get to the fucking point." I snapped. He smirked, but he must have expected that. He shrugged it off like it didnât sting. His gaze dragged over my body, definitely laughing at my outfit for the
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