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SEVEN: SUSPECT

Author: SOMA
last update Huling Na-update: 2025-08-26 04:45:56

The view from the great hall so enthralled Elena: animated movements, doors opening and slamming shut, orders issued and executed in hushed tones, muscles bulging from their black tees, especially Jeremy's.

Even from above, she could see the fury glistening in his eyes, in all their eyes. They were not the friendliest bunch but had become maniacal since the Turin news broke out.

Whatever was in Turin seemed worth raising hell for. Watching all that testosterone move with military precision did something funny to her insides. She couldn't tear her gaze away from them, especially Jeremy, even after the cars had zoomed off.

If she hadn't been so fixated, she would have heard the wheelchair come in. It wasn't until Mama said something that Elena turned to see the silver-haired woman.

"You look like you've seen a ghost", Mama said.

"Sorry, Mama. I didn't hear you come in", Elena replied, adjusting her skirt. It didn't need any adjustment; she just didn't like being alone with Mama. The wo
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  • TRAPPED WITH THE MAFIA BOSS   THIRTY

    The sun hung high in the sky, casting a relentless heat over the bustling streets, the air thick with the scent of grilled meat from roadside vendors and the ever-present salt of the nearby ocean. A chaotic blend of honking cars, hurried footsteps, and distant laughter filled the afternoon, creating a deceptive illusion of normalcy.Elena sat at an outdoor café, her chair positioned in the perfect vantage point—directly across from the luxury mall’s entrance, where Salvora Millicent would soon appear. Her fingers curled tightly around the porcelain coffee cup in front of her, the liquid inside untouched and growing cold by the second. Her heartbeat thrummed in her ears, her breath shallow, her pulse erratic.She had lived with the Mafia long enough to know death, to sense it before it arrived, to recognize its invisible presence lingering at the edges of life. She had seen men and women executed in cold blood, had walked over bodies that had barely cooled, had forced herself to remain

  • TRAPPED WITH THE MAFIA BOSS   TWENTY-NINE

    The maximum-security fortress stood like a monument to violence and failure.A labyrinth of concrete, steel, and shadows, where the worst of the worst from Italy and beyond were locked away, some awaiting trial, others forgotten by the world outside.Jeremy Cali stepped out of his armored SUV, his presence alone enough to make the guards stiffen. They knew who he was.More importantly, they knew what he was capable of.The prison gates groaned open, leading him through a series of sterile hallways, past rows of men with hollow eyes and rotting souls. The air was thick with sweat, desperation, and the unspoken promise of violence.And at the heart of it all?Michele Millicent.They called him Il Demonio—The Demon.Not just because of the things he had done, but because of the things he had survived.Before he landed in prison, Michele was the kind of man parents used to scare their children into obedience.He had built his reputation in the back alleys of Milan, where he rose from a me

  • TRAPPED WITH THE MAFIA BOSS   TWENTY-EIGHT

    The night was heavy.The meeting with Jeremy had dragged for hours, and now, exhaustion clung to Jeremiah like a second skin. His suit jacket was slung over his shoulder, the top buttons of his shirt undone, the thick muscles of his arms tense from the weight of everything swirling in his head.But the exhaustion wasn’t what bothered him most.It was the hunger.The kind that clawed at his gut, the kind that wasn’t satisfied by food, whiskey, or even the violence he had long been accustomed to.He needed release.It had been weeks. Maybe longer. He hadn’t kept track. With all the madness—Salvora’s return, the Russians, the mole—there simply hadn’t been time to indulge his usual pleasures.A man like him? He needed to feed the beast frequently.The female staff in the mansion had learned never to deny him. They knew what he liked, how he liked it, and more importantly, they knew not to speak a word about it afterward.He could go to them now. Could head straight to their quarters and p

  • TRAPPED WITH THE MAFIA BOSS   TWENTY-SEVEN

    The whiskey in her glass swirled lazily, catching the evening light filtering through the sheer curtains of her hotel suite. The golden glow painted her skin in soft hues, but there was nothing soft about Salvora Millicent.Her cheek still stung.The memory of Mama’s slap burned, not just in her flesh but in her pride.Mama had always been ruthless, but that moment at the mall? That was a death sentence.And Salvora knew better than to ignore a death sentence.She sighed, tilting her head as she caught the faint reflection of herself in the mirror across the room. The mark was barely visible now, a soft shade of pink against her flawless complexion.Still, the humiliation festered.A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts.She didn’t bother asking who it was. She already knew.“Come in,” she called, her voice smooth, controlled.The door creaked open, and Jeremiah stepped in—his broad shoulders filling the doorway, his presence thick with tension.She smirked. “Couldn’t stay away,

  • TRAPPED WITH THE MAFIA BOSS   TWENTY-SIX

    The luxury mall was buzzing with life. High-end shoppers moved in and out of exclusive boutiques, the scent of expensive perfume mingling with the aroma of freshly brewed espresso from a nearby café.Mama never shopped alone.She was wheeled into Dior, flanked by two guards, her presence alone enough to make the attendants stand straighter. Though confined to her wheelchair, she carried herself with the authority of a queen—one whose throne no one dared question.She was mid-conversation with the store manager when the air in the room shifted.A slow hush, a ripple of tension.Then she saw her; Salvora Millicent.Italy was like a small village. Back when Don Cali was in charge, he was like the king of Italy. Some might say he was even more powerful than the president. So, when Salvora did what she did, it was only natural that everyone in Italy treated her like an enemy. She was the black sheep, the ugly creature who would dare attack Don Cali in his home. This was the thing that con

  • TRAPPED WITH THE MAFIA BOSS   TWENTY-FIVE

    The shack smelled of damp wood, cheap cigars, and the kind of misery only criminals and drifters carried in their bones.Jeremiah slid into his usual seat, ignoring the leering men and their hollow laughter. This was where the lowest of society gathered—the desperate, the reckless, the ones who had nothing to lose. And yet, sitting in the farthest, darkest corner, was the Whisperer.He looked exactly as he did last time—stooped, twitchy, and mildly amused by the world around him. He was nursing a small glass of something amber-colored, his long fingers tapping rhythmically against the table.Jeremiah didn’t bother with pleasantries. He threw a thick envelope onto the table.“For your troubles.”The Whisperer barely glanced at it. “You don’t waste time, X.”“No, I don’t. Have they left?”The Whisperer sighed, finally pocketing the envelope. “The Arabs? Most of them, yes. But not all. There are always one or two idiots who think they can slip through cracks that don’t exist.”Jeremiah c

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