Owned By Massimo

Isabella's PovI've always been drawn to the edge of danger, the kind that makes your pulse race and your skin flush with heat. The forbidden. The taboo. The thought of being claimed, used, treated like a filthy little slut—it’s what keeps me awake at night, my fingers slipping between my thighs as I imagine a man like ‘him’ taking control. Not just any man. Don Massimo. The mafia king whose name alone sends shivers down my spine and makes my pussy throb with need. I’ve dreamed of him for months, ever since I first heard the whispers about him in the shadowed corners of my father’s mansion. A man who owns everything he touches. A man who could break me, ruin me, and make me beg for more. Tonight, I’m done dreaming. Tonight, I’m making it real. I stand in front of my full-length mirror, my heart pounding as I adjust the scandalous lingerie clinging to my curves. The black lace barely covers my full, heavy breasts, the plunging neckline leaving little to the imagination. The thong

Isabella's Pov I groaned, my head pounding like a drum as I blinked awake. The ceiling above me was strange...high and dark, with fancy wooden beams I didn't recognize. No pink canopy from my bedroom at home. No soft pillows. Just cold, hard reality hitting me. My arms ached, and when I tried to move them, I couldn't. Panic should have kicked in, but it didn't. My wrists were tied to the bedposts with soft silk ropes, tight enough to hold me but not cut into my skin. I tugged a little, testing them, and a rush of heat flooded my body. Massimo did this. The mafia king himself tied me up. My breath hitched, sharp and needy. God, why wasn't I scared? I should be screaming, fighting, begging to be let go. He was the most dangerous man in the city—whispers said he killed without blinking, owned half the underworld, broke people like toys. But no. The thought of his strong hands wrapping those ropes around my wrists made my pussy throb. Wetness pooled between my thighs, soa

Massimo's POV Markus left with that stupid victorious smile still stuck on his face, and the silence that followed him was loud enough to choke me. I stood there alone, one hand around my whiskey glass, swirling the amber liquid in slow circles. The ice clinked softly, mocking me. I stared at the smooth swirl like it held answers, like it could explain why the hell I—Massimo De Luca—had let a foolish, reckless girl stay in my home. It shouldn’t matter. It should not concern me if Pablo wanted her. It should not be my problem if he paid three million to own her, hurt her, ruin her. That was none of my business. I should have just let Markus take her out. Let Pablo claim her. Let whatever happened…happen. But the moment Markus talked about her and Pablo in the same sentence, something in me twisted—tight, sharp, ugly. And the word “Wait” left my mouth before I even knew I’d said it. I brought the glass to my lips, but I didn’t drink. I just stood there,

MASSIMO’S POV“How the fuck are you getting turned on with a gun pointed at you?” I growled, my voice low and rough, barely holding back the storm raging inside me.She stared straight into my eyes, no fear, no shaking…just pure heat. Her lips parted, and in that breathless, cocky little voice she said, “That’s because I know you won’t shoot me.”The words hit me like a slap. This girl…this reckless, wild thing I’d dragged home—actually believed she was safe with my gun pressed to her body. My finger stayed near the trigger, steady as always, but something in my chest twisted hard.“Don’t be so sure,” I whispered, leaning in closer. The barrel of the gun slid up from her hard nipple to rest right under her chin, tilting her head back against the wall. Her skin was warm, flushed, and I could smell her…sweet, feminine, mixed with the sharp edge of arousal.Her breathing picked up, chest rising and falling fast, pushing her breasts against my arm. She didn’t flinch. Instead, her eyes spa

Massimo’s POVI left my room with my blood still boiling and my mind stuck on that wild girl. Her taste on the gun, her bold eyes, the way she licked her lips like a promise…it all clung to me like smoke. I needed air. I needed control. But the moment I climbed the last step toward the main hall, Bianca was already there waiting for me.She stood with one hand planted on her hip, her face twisted in anger and jealousy that made her look ugly. Her eyes burned as she stepped right into my path.“Who the hell is that woman?” she spat, her voice sharp and loud enough to echo off the walls.I stopped, staring down at her with zero warmth. “I don’t owe you an explanation.”Her mouth fell open like I’d slapped her. “Well, I am your fiancée! You can’t just bring some random slut into our home and let her attack me!”I narrowed my eyes, the irritation from earlier flaring hotter. This woman had no idea how thin the thread holding our engagement was. “I can change that,” I said coldly, my voic