The Mafia’s Pet

Diego Ripping the tape from her mouth, she winces. "It looks like you want to say something, Mama. What is it?" I ask, abandoning my native tongue, as I doubt they speak Spanish. She spits in my face, and I chuckle as I wipe it away. "A feisty one, I like that. What's your name?""Fuck you!" she seethes, "where is my father? What did you do to him, you monster!"A dark chuckle escapes my lips. "He's maggot food, and you and the rest of your family are going to join him shortly."I'm actually considering another idea, but I say that just to see her reaction. Is she truly as tough as she presents herself, or is she just another weak, sheltered princess crying for her daddy?Her eyes widen, but she doesn't dissolve into tears like her mother, whose wailing has become obnoxiously louder. I grit my teeth, the sound grating against my skull. "Shut the fuck up before I send you to hell with your husband!" I growl. She sobs even harder, and I'm two seconds from actually considering putting a

VanessaAfter being yanked from my bed in the middle of the night, I find myself sitting in a black SUV beside a psychopathic, egocentric monster.He has fair skin, a chiseled jawline, piercing, sky blue eyes, and a rugged allure that makes him appear both sexy and terrifying. His hair is a gorgeous waterfall of black curls, gracefully framing his face. Dressed in an all-black ensemble, tattoos subtly peek out from beneath his jacket sleeves and adorn his neck, adding to his dangerous persona.We've been driving for at least an hour. My senses are on high alert, my blood pounding in my ears so loudly, I can't hear anything else. I scan the car for a way out, but there isn't one. Even if I manage to find a way to knock this asshole out, I would still have to deal with the man who's driving, and my sister, Alicia, is trapped in the other car. I have no doubt that his men would kill her in an instant if I actually made a move. How could my father do this to us? Five million fucking doll

Vanessa The second the words leave my mouth, he forces me onto my knees. Grabbing my hair, he yanks my puff almost painfully as he unbuckles his pants with the other hand and yanks out his dick. I've never seen one in real life before, only in p**n, and quite honestly, I'm afraid of it. It's long and thick and there's no way it will fit in my mouth. "I-I've never done this before," I stammer, feeling tears brimming in my eyes from the painful burn of my scalp. Dickweed grabs my chin, stroking it as he brushes his thumb across my bottom lip. "That's okay, Mama. I knew my pet would need some training." He squeezes my jaw. "Open." I reluctantly obey, feeling a shiver of revulsion crawl down my spine as he spits into my mouth. The thick wad of saliva rests on my tongue, and I fight the urge to gag. Eww, what the fuck? The bodily fluids of other people gross me out, and here this disgusting asshole is spitting into my mouth! How am I supposed to escape this situation, or spit it ou

VanessaI feel his powerful presence behind me, and I clutch Mom's urn harder as if it could shield me from him. He yanks my hair back, forcing me against his chest. His hand snakes around my neck, his warm breath hot against my skin. "I'm disappointed you weren't in my bed when I awoke. I hope you weren't trying to escape from me, Mama." His voice is calm and low, as if he's just waiting for me to confess my sins so he can revel in my punishment. But I refuse to give him the satisfaction. "I'm sure she knows better than that, Diego. She probably just wanted something to eat," the green eyed man assures him with a smirk. So our captor's name is Diego. That information will be useful for the police report I'll be filing as soon as I get the hell out of here. "Is that true?" Diego asks, his grip on my neck tightening just enough to assert dominance. "Do you usually bring an urn with you to breakfast?" My body betrays me, trembling with fear and an inexplicable heat that po

Vanessa "I'm not wearing this," I say defiantly. Unable to hide my grimace, I toss the dress back to him. He chuckles as though I'm merely a tantrum-throwing child. I'm already wearing his stupid collar, now he wants me to put on a stupid dress that is way too short. Dad taught us that only girls asking for trouble wear skirts and dresses. Just imagine if he had seen this one! Diego cocks a dark eyebrow. "Have you never worn a dress before, Mama?" "N-No. And I don't need to wear one. I'm not the whore you're trying to turn me in to!" I assert, feeling my cheeks flush. A shadow crosses over his face. "And who called you a whore?" I ignore the question. "You said you weren't going to pimp us out. So, why are you making me dress like a whore?" I ask, my voice rising in fear and anger. "I already told you that you're all mine, Mascota. My club is upscale, so dressing casually will make you stand out." He rises from the bed and adjusts his black suit jacket. "Why don't yo