LOGINMICAH. I’ve always done as my father commanded—until he sells me to a family in Sicily and I become the property of Sullivan Stone. He’s everything I always want to stay away from; cold, ruthless, and dangerously intent on having what he wants. But what I didn’t expect was how easily his darkness would pull me in—how quickly his world would become mine. Running was never an option. And by the time I understand the truth, I’m already too deep in his game to crawl out. SULLIVAN. I wanted her the moment I saw her—feisty, sly, and meant to be broken. She doesn’t know it yet, but I’ll make her mine in every sense of the word. I’ll train her, tempt her, and mold her until she fits perfectly into my hands. But when she uncovers the secret that brought her to me, she’ll realize survival always demands a price. And this time, that price might be our everything! Get ready for a steamy chaotic mafia novel!
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THIS BOOK IS A WORK OF FICTION. THE DEPICTION OF AUTISM IN THIS BOOK IS NOT MEANT TO BE REPRESENTATIVE OF ANYONE WITH ASD AND ANY SIMILARITIES TO REAL PEOPLE OR SITUATIONS ARE PURELY COINCIDENTAL. . Italy. Sicily... The security opened the back gate and my driver drove in. As soon as the car pulled into the compound, I jumped out and headed straight for the trap door, hidden from anyone living in the mansion. I swung it open and climbed down the stairs that led to the secret underground bedroom, my very own hideaway. I usually bring home some ladies to the bedroom to f**k them but each one of them always ended up escaping in the middle of the fun and I always think I haven't gotten the right person who will fully submit themselves to me, luckily for this bedroom, my religious parents never knew I was up to something like this. Well, I blame my psychological disorder which always pushes me to do these things. I stopped looking around the room, which I named the room of pleasure. The acronym is ROP. I climbed up the stairs and headed to my regular bedroom. I pressed the secret button hidden in the bookshelf which caused it to open, and I entered my regular bedroom, pulling the bookshelf that separated my original bedroom and room of pleasure closed behind me. As I walked in, a knock came from the door. "Is that you Ginevra?" I called timidly. "É mattina Sullivan." My blonde-haired younger sister Gin spoke ' It's morning' to me in Italian walking into my room, and I raised my eyes at her as if I had just woken up. Little did my family know that I didn't sleep at home overnight. Every evening at seven o'clock, I say goodnight to my family and retreat to my bedroom, where I secretly sneak out and go to my workplace. The details of my work are best kept secret. "Good morning, Gin," I called walking to the bathroom. "You should come downstairs and have your breakfast before the doctor comes," Gin spoke English this time. "Alrighty, I will be down in a bit," I said, entering the bathroom, and I could hear her walking out of the room. When I finished bathing, I put on sweatpants and a T-shirt with my half-dried black hair falling to my face. I slipped into my slippers and walked out of my room to the hallway before climbing down the well-furnished wooden staircase. As I climbed on the last stairs and stepped on the concrete tiled floor, my mother noticed me, and she walked to me, who was looking naive, boyishly... Just name it. I'm always on this kind of expression because of my health. "Buongiorno." My mother greeted me in Italian hugging me. "Good morning." I returned to my autistic behavior, and she pulled out of the hug. "Come, let's get you breakfast before your doctor's appointment." She said, walking me to the dining, and I was limping, or, should I say, staggering, till we reached the dining. "How was your night? Sullivan?" Dad asked as my mother helped me to sit. "Great." This time I was avoiding eye contact. My mother served me my favorite meal and I started eating childishly with the rest of the three members of my family eating as well. Dad started talking to Ginevra about business matters, but she didn't seem very happy about it. She had never shown any interest in inheriting the family companies, and neither had I. I may be a patient, but I don't want to take over my adoptive parents' business. I already have my own business, and it doesn't involve inheriting their company. However, they're eager for me to take on that responsibility, so they've arranged for me to see the best doctor in Italy to make sure I get the treatment I need as quickly as possible. "Take your brother to the guest room, he will be meeting the doctor there." Mother instructed Gin. "No! I'm fine." I objected stammering. "I can walk there myself," I added, standing on my feet, trying to maintain a normal standing posture. I started walking to the guest room and as I walked, I struggled to keep my balance. I looked at the ground as I walked, my movements were jerky and clumsy, but I maintained my balance until I reached the room. I opened the door to the guest room and entered it. I sat on the couch, my head still lowered. Although I have been in the early stages of autism spectrum disorder since childhood, thanks to my adoptive parents for the treatment they provided me with, and I haven't gotten worse with this disorder, I can't help behaving like one. It took over an hour with me still on the couch, sitting with my head bowed, when the doctor who usually treated me walked in with my parents. I raised my head, avoiding eye contact with my parents or the doctor, and I greeted the doctor in Italian, who responded in English. "How are you, Sullivan?" Mr. Fiore asked while I was still staring at nothing in particular. "I'm... I'm fine. Thank you." I replied blinking rapidly. "Well as you know, Mr. Fiore. My son needs to get better. At least, he needs to take on the family business before we go old." My dad started taking a seat beside my mother on the sofa opposite the doctor who was seated on an armchair facing both my parents and me. "As you know Mr. Stone, we can't possibly rush your son's treatment. But gratefully, he's responding to treatment, and he's getting better than some patients that I know." Mr. Fiore addressed. "Yes, I know. At least he's no longer freaking out when I hug him." Mrs. Stone, my mother added with a smile which I saw from the corner of my eyes. "True. And he is making quiet phone calls nowadays. Probably he already has a friend from the internet." My dad spoke smilingly, and I almost glanced at him. Did he eavesdrop on me while I was instructing someone who works for me from the phone? "He's certainly showing signs of improvement," Mr. Fiore said. "Though it may take some time before he's ready to take over your businesses, and to be like everyone else out there." My parents nodded in agreement, while I sat there, trying to process everything they were saying. "If you want him to improve faster, I suggest hiring a professional to work with him regularly." He paused. "But for this to be effective, it's important to find someone who is not already part of your family or social circle," the doctor continued. "Someone who has a different personality and can relate to him in a way that's different from how you do. A lady I know from New York might be a good fit." He paused, waiting for my parents to respond. I kept my gaze averted, trying not to look directly at him. "Someone with different personalities?" My mother repeated the doctor's word and he nodded. "Yes, a female." Doctor Fiore confirmed his suggestion. "With the female worker, he can learn about relationships, responsibility, clear communications and even express some certain emotions that he has never done." "Wow, we've never thought about this." My dad said, glancing at my mother, and both of them glanced at me. I felt my anxiety rising, and my eyes were about to pop out of my head. "Si starà bene?" My mother asked giving me a sympathetic look. Well, I don't think I will be okay according to the question my mother asked. And perhaps I will be okay if the person hired to help me is ready to do my bidding!I began struggling to open the door but it was proving no positive effect. "Shit! Damn you Rosa." I swore to remember how Rosa had shut the door and I continued pulling the doorknob with more strength, I even used my shoulders to try and break the door but it was just built too fit for a person like me to break into.My dad had always done the same whenever I went against him when I was young as punishment, and I would stay locked up in the room for two days at most with no food at the thought of it happening again, I couldn't help but scream. "Sullivan!" I banged on the door even though I knew no miracle was gonna happen. "Rosalina!" I shouted my second enemy's name as I continued to bang on the door even harder.But there was no response, and why the fuck did Sullivan have me locked up? If he wanted to kill me for being my father's daughter he should've done so and I'd have appreciated him but not him locking me up and making me feel helpless.The thought that those around me saw me
I strolled out of the bathroom after sleeping for what felt like an eternity, dressed in a yellow nightgown that I had found in the wardrobe.Although it seemed not to fit me, I had to wear it since it was the only nightgown I could find in the wardrobe. But why would Sullivan keep a woman's dress in his house? Or why would he even care to have a room that looks so feminine?Is he as well keeping a mistress? Or wife? Or some other submissive like me? The thought clouded my brain while I began to wonder what the true option was when someone knocked on the door.I looked at the door expecting whoever was knocking to enter but the person knocked again and I smirked at the manner such a person must have.I decided to stand up hoping whoever was knocking ended up to be Sullivan, but why would Sullivan knock in his dwelling place, of course, he isn't the kind of man to possess such manners although he would pretend when he is with his parents.I walked towards the door, opening it when I sa
I didn't want to believe it.Although I was aware that in this world, anyone could become a traitor overnight because of greed and hunger for power, my brother is not capable of that.Is he? I asked myself again still staring coldly at the crying, groaning forties man on the hot seat. His jeans already burning, and in no time, his buttocks will be exposed to the hotness.Adam has been away from me for a while but does that mean he already moved with bad influence and wants to go against me? I doubted my brother, even though I still had the urge not to believe Romano but who could say pure truth better than someone being tortured dangerously?I need to see if my brother is the enemy here."Turn it off," I commanded Black who swung to action."Who ordered you to for the last time?" I asked with a stern look at Romano who was breathing heavily and even crying."I swear..." He cried. "I swear it was Adamo." He replied in Sicilian and I knew he might continue mentioning my brother's name w
"She would use it," Rosa assured me after returning from Micah's room."She would wake up in the next few hours, prepare her dinner, and make her feel comfortable. She'd be back to work as of tomorrow." I instructed and Rosa nodded.I walked out of the main house with Black following me behind.We strolled a bit far away from the main house before reaching the prison building where we had kept Ricky and some of Taylor's men.The door was opened by one of my men standing as a guard at the entrance, and I walked in striding over to Ricky's prison cell.The door to the cell was opened by another of my men, and I stepped in staring at the Ricky of a guy who was yet to be tortured, but he was seated on the electric chair that goes hot when plugged."Please spare me, Don Sullivan." He begged in a familiar American accent fearing my cold look at him. "Please..." He cried. "I was only told what to do." Ricky cried but I didn't expect him to be so fragile so soon and he seemed to be a weakling






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