Chapter one

CHAPTER 1.

SICILY, ITALY

Shrieks of pleasure erupted from a hotel room, coursing through the walls of the gigantic building.

It was midnight, and the screams were a huge nuisance. But no one laid a complaint, not when they knew where the screams wafted from.

It came from the only room on the last floor of the building. There was only one room on that floor and only one person lodged in that room. It was the Capo of the 'Carianno' Mafia family, and the hotel was one of the many properties of the 'Carianno' family.

Sicily was the haven of the 'Cariannos'. They've been here for generations and practically run the city. No one leaves or enters unnoticed. They robbed the city of its good aura, replacing it with sheer horror.  Vicious killings. Tortures. Crimes. Theft. Rapes. The list was endless. Italy was in chaos. Sicily had it worst, and that was since the new Capo came on board.

'GHOST', that was his name. With no background and identity, he showed up like a ghost and swept Sicily off its bearing, bringing it under his feet.

It was a nightmare for the innocent Italians and hell for the authorities. Sicily was his zone and his footprint was imprinted everywhere. He was dreaded, for all the right reasons.

Another shriek of pleasure and Camilla had to stuff a pillow on her face. She couldn't keep up with the shrieking. It was embarrassing on her part. She was supposed to be the badass, a fucking hardcore lover, who could take on any dick.  But her shrieks weren't putting that off.

If only she could tone it down a bit. But how could she? Her cunt was being pounded by the largest American dick ever. And he was a fucking DOM who got schooled by top-notch Italian mistresses and knew his art of pleasure by heart.

”Fuck!“ She clenched out, as her long legs were guided around his torso and he delved deeper into her cunt.

She could feel her orgasm dangerously closing up on her. He felt it too, and his pace increased.

“Oh shit!” Her hips buckled and she jerked off the bed, wrapping her arms around his neck. She buried her face in his shoulder, biting a bit of the flesh there to keep in her shrieks. He gave her one last thrust and she had an intense release.

Lost in her ecstasy and fucking distorted, she didn't notice him taking her arms off him until she landed hard on the bed. A hard gasp escaped her, and she watched him in awe.

He picked up his briefs and clothes and disappeared into the bathroom. Not a word to her.

Camilla shut her eyes briefly, relieving the erotic moment she just had with the man of her dreams. The only man that ever made her cold heart skip a beat. The monster who she craved like she would her favorite dish.

Biting her lower lips, she placed her head on the pillow with a smile. She was satisfied. He never does a sloppy job when it has to do with pounding a cunt. He was good. So fucking good!

When the door creaked open, he stepped out fully dressed. For a minute, her breath hitched. He looked hot naked but even hotter with clothes on. Especially when he was wearing denim pants that hugged his frame so tightly.

His sleek, classic pompadour haircut cascaded to the side of his face. The cross earring dangling on his ears glistened with the lights from the chandelier. His tattoos were concealed by the denim leather jackets he was wearing. His black boot synched with his jacket and pants. un uomo sexy!

“Leaving?“ Camilla was forced to reality, shaking off whatever crumbs of pleasure still lingered. Her Italian accent was spiked with disappointment. She didn't expect him to leave so soon.

”I gotta attend the meeting,“ He gave a brisk reply, taking his watch from the nightstand.

“But- but I thought – “ Camilla stuttered, getting down from the bed. She was naked and didn't try to hide it. He's seen all of her, touched all of her. There was no reason to attempt any form of modesty.

”What?” He asked glacially, fixing his cold stare on her.

Camilla swallowed a hard lump as her hands formed a weak fist. Her eyes stung with tears, but she didn't dare let them spill. Crying was a sign of weakness. Ghost hated weak girls. She didn't want to fall on that list.

“It's been six months since we last spent time together. I missed you,” She admitted, and it made her heart crushed even more. A tear spilled, but she was quick to wipe it off.

“Get a grip, Camilla. This ain't no soap opera,“ He brushed past her, grabbed his phone, and pocketed it.

She gulped, fighting down the torrent of tears that threatened to make her heart explode. How much longer does she have to put up with his aloofness? Ever since he chose her as his moll, all he's done is fuck her cunt and break her heart with his indifference.

Ghost was a wall, impenetrable and impossible to break through. He had no emotions and showed none. For as long as she's known the man, she's never seen him smile. He was a stoic man,  who only knew how to kill. But he was handsome to a fault and had all the mafioso daughters fawning for his heart.

Camilla Dante was the only daughter of the Dante family. Her Father, Riccardo "Iceman" Dante was the consigliere of the Carianno family.

She'd felt attracted to Ghost at first sight and had her father pull some strings to make Ghost take her as his moll.

Camilla was one to get any man she wanted, and Ghost was no exception. She felt like a fucking queen when the mafia obliged her wish and made Ghost take her as his moll. It was all physical at the onset. Just sex and lots of sex.

But now, it was complicated. She'd fallen head over heels for him, against her better judgment. And he was crushing her heart as he does to his victims.

Six months ago, he left for the Irish part of the world, acting "the enforcer" and snagging up quite a feat. He returned today, and all he's done was fuck her. No words, no talks, no hugs. Just fuck.

“Please,“ She sobbed, hugging him, locking him with her arms, ”Stay a little longer,”

“I'm already late for the meeting, Principessa ( Italian for 'princess'). Are you playing dumb or just trying to piss me off?!” He gave her a vehement push and she landed hard on the bed.

Without a glimpse at her, he stormed out of the room. He took the elevator to the first floor and when it beeped open, Scar was waiting for him.

”You're already thirty minutes late, Ghost,” Scar informed him, trailing behind him as they walked past the lobby and out of the building.

They headed to his private parking lot, but his car was gone. His valet was lying unconscious and so were a few other guards.

Scar ran to them, checking for a pulse. They were breathing, but unconscious. He looked up at Ghost, and the question in his eyes got its answer.

“I'm gonna kill Viper for this!“ Ghost clenched out, jaw knotted in fury. He knew just who had done this.

Sergio "Viper" Carianno, nephew to Don Carianno, a fucking asshole and his rival. This has to be a fucking prank to make him not attend the meeting.

He checked his wristwatch. Forty minutes late. Goddammit!