"Hello, Madeline," he greeted in a deep, smooth voice that held a captivating allure, capable of sending shivers down the spine of any woman.
However, I didn't belong to the type of women who fell for such refined charms. In the ruthless world of the mafia, the alluring demeanor of a handsome man had no place. With his hands casually resting in his pockets, he strolled with an air of nonchalant indifference. That infuriating grin adorned his face, showcasing a set of flawlessly white teeth. It was a boyish charm seemingly designed to dismantle my defenses.
Faced with this precarious situation, I had only one option: a move I had been trained for since stepping into this unforgiving world. Swiftly, I propelled myself away from the door, aiming my gun at his temple.
"Stop right there, you despicable bastard. It's over," I declared.
He chuckled genuinely, acknowledging my stance with a respectful nod. "I don't think so. In fact, it seems you find yourself in quite a predicament."
He let the words linger in the air, as if I should be deeply concerned. I retorted with a sardonic tone, "I have plenty of those. Which one are you referring to?"
"Your upcoming marriage," he remarked, a glint of knowing in his eyes, as if he possessed a secret I was oblivious to. He approached closer, exuding sophistication with every step. "I happen to be well-informed about your groom, Ernesto. To put it bluntly, he's a real jerk."
His words surprised me, and I fought back a smile. "So what? He's the man I love."
"Don't lie to me, Madeline. I don't appreciate being lied to. It will only earn you severe consequences," he warned.
What an insufferable jerk! Did all men think I would surrender so easily? "I'm not lying."
He simply narrowed his eyes.
Exhaling in exasperation, I shifted uncomfortably. "What have you done with my friend?"
With an air of casual confidence, he replied, "She's resting comfortably. I assure you, I have no intention of harming women."
"Why should I trust you?" I fired back.
In response, he emitted a low, guttural growl, emanating a sense of control. "You don't really have a choice. You and I are about to become intimately acquainted."
"You're insane," I retorted, my patience wearing thin. Who did this stranger think he was? "And why?"
"Let's just say that you're going to assist me in settling a score. Now, I have a proposition for you. It's something you should carefully consider, as there won't be any other alternatives," he explained.
"A proposition? Who the hell are you?" My heart raced so frantically that coherent thoughts became a challenge. What was this vendetta about? Could it be related to the man I was on the verge of marrying? "Is this all about money, then?"
"You certainly have a colorful vocabulary," he remarked, his tone tinged with annoyance. "But let's focus on the matter at hand." Unfazed by the gun I held, he moved closer.
"What do you want?" I inquired.
"As I mentioned, I want to strike a deal with you. It involves money to some extent, and power, but it's also about honor and integrity—qualities not universally possessed," he elaborated.
His persistent, boyish grin grew increasingly irritating. I couldn't comprehend his intentions. My father was ruthless, and from what little I knew about the Satoris, they were power-hungry as well. I felt genuinely intrigued, wondering where he was leading with this.
"What kind of arrangement are you proposing?" I asked, my curiosity overriding my trepidation.
He continued, "Well, if you cooperate with me and refrain from causing any complications, I can offer you a fresh start. And that's just the beginning." Walking closer to my vanity, he helped himself to a glass of champagne. Raising the crystal stem, he swirled the contents and leisurely took a sip. "This is absolutely exquisite. Only the finest for someone of your standing."
"I'm hardly a person of privilege. Who are you?" I demanded, bewildered by the audacity of this stranger.
"Who I am, quite frankly, doesn't matter. And you, my dear, are exactly as described: arrogant and opinionated. I am the only man with the power to alter the course of your life," he stated with a sigh, his words causing my frayed nerves to further escalate. Something about this man felt oddly familiar—his face, his voice triggered distant memories, yet I couldn't place them.
"You're deluded if you think I would ever entertain a deal with someone like you," I mustered.
"Somebody like me," he retorted, his tone turning menacing ashe moved closer. "I am many things, Madeline, including a bastard. But I am much more than that. Let me reiterate once more before the offer disappears: what comes after won't be...comfortable."
My legs started to tremble, and I realized this man wasn't playing games. What choices did I truly have? "Fine. I'm listening."
His golden-boy smile reappeared. "That's the spirit. It's a rather straightforward arrangement. You will accompany me and vanish, at least in Ernesto's eyes."
Taken aback, I was tempted to burst into laughter. "You must be out of your mind. I'm not going anywhere with you. Besides, my father will stop at nothing to hunt you down for even attempting it."
"Oh, I have my ways of dealing with your father. I've done my research. Don't worry," he replied confidently.
Now he had managed to anger me. "Why in the world would I go with you? I don't even know who you are!"
He smiled smugly and replied, "You might be pleasantly surprised. I can assure you that what I have in mind is far more enticing than the man you're currently engaged to."
His proposition sounded absurd. "I can break off the engagement on my own terms if I want to," I blurted out, as if my words held any real weight.
"Hmm... I'm well aware of your trust fund and the obligations that bind you. You're required to remain married to him for a whole decade. Ten long years. I know about his tendencies. He can be quite... sadistic. But perhaps that's what you need. You have thirty seconds to think about it."
No matter how much he knew about Ernesto, I had to trust my instincts, which were warning me that this man was equally dangerous. It was time to gather information, even if it meant playing along.
"And what do I gain from going along with you? I know you're not here to rescue me from a disastrous marriage. That much is clear," I said, cautiously lowering my guard, though I still couldn't trust this individual.
"How astute, Madeline. You and I will join forces to bring down the Satori family," he declared, his words hanging in the air. "But there's a condition."
This man was dead serious. Who did he think he was?
"Of course there is," I muttered, anger simmering within me. "What is it?"
"I'll save you from an awful marriage and assist you in destroying the man you so clearly despise, but in return, you will be mine in every way."
I recollected the events of that day prior to the intrusion of the stranger into my residence. I was en route to the church for my wedding ceremony. "You look absolutely stunning, though that scowl on your face is quite intense," Dana remarked. I stared at my reflection in the full-length mirror, feeling a strong dislike for the dress, the meticulously styled hair, and the imminent marriage that awaited me in less than an hour. "I feel utterly miserable. This is exactly what my father has always envisioned for his little princess," I grumbled. Dana rolled her eyes, walked over to the small vanity, and took hold of my champagne glass. "I think you need this. Maybe I should order another bottle." I wrestled the crystal stem from her grip, tilted it back, and nearly drained the glass. "You mean because I'm being coerced into an arranged marriage?" I replied with a touch of sarcasm. Dana remained oblivious to the world my family was entrenched in. She was my American friend, unaware
"I'll save you from an awful marriage and assist you in destroying the man you so clearly despise, but in return, you will be mine in every way." I was not shocked by his audacious words; rather, I was appalled and disgusted. "You must be kidding." "Not in the slightest. Rest assured, what you would go through with Ernesto... let's just say, being seen in public would become quite challenging." "You're unbelievable." "And I possess the key to your freedom," he declared firmly, his gaze unwavering, never blinking. I contemplated his proposition. What I knew for certain was that there was no way I could go through with marrying Ernesto. He was right; the mere thought made me cringe in disgust. Perhaps if I played along, pretended to cooperate with this man's absurdity, it might buy me some time, unless I could find a way to escape. I weighed the different scenarios, attempting to rationalize them in my mind. I was a fighter, and I had to take a stand, even though fear trembled thr
"I couldn't care less about my needs, as if you have any concern for them!" I swiped at his hands, determined not to reveal my fear. He chuckled, a seductive sound that seemed inappropriate coming from someone so obviously dangerous. "I don't believe we need to resort to insults, do we?" The audacity of this person was truly astonishing. I adjusted myself to sit upright, cradling my throbbing head. "What have you done? Why? Money? Power over my father? What?" "All your questions will be answered in due time." He moved towards the foot of the bed. "Fine. Perhaps you don't truly understand who I am or the influence of my family. Borgata." I emphasized the last word, spitting it out with disdain. He took a deep breath, his gaze intense. "Madeline Alessandro, daughter of Antonio Alessandro, a well-known winemaker. On paper and to the unaware authorities, that's who you are. But the truth is, your family holds significant power in the Italian mafia, strategically aligned with the form
[Warning: R18+] Every instinct of self-preservation surged within me. I lunged at him, scratching his face and delivering several punches to his kidneys. He was a strong and formidable figure, far from the attractive person I had initially thought he was. He belonged to a secretive organization and had a captivating presence that demanded respect. With a threatening growl, he forcefully pushed me onto the bed, using his weight to pin me down. He effortlessly grabbed both my wrists and held them above my head. I couldn't escape his overpowering strength; I was completely at his mercy. "That was not kind, Madeline, and you will face severe consequences for it. I will give you a taste of what awaits you," he stated firmly. He shifted, flipping me over and pulling at my shorts. "What do you think you're doing?" I struggled, trying to free myself from his grip. "I'm giving you what you deserve, princess. A firm spanking." "Are you insane? I have never been disciplined before. How dare
Three days prior... At the young age of eleven, I was thrust into the secretive world of organized crime, a dark and treacherous path that would shape my life into something unrecognizable compared to the innocence of my youth. The memories of my initiation into this sinister realm lingered in the recesses of my mind, a disquieting ritual that unfolded when I was only twelve years old. By the time I turned eighteen, I had become a harbinger of destruction, ruthlessly shattering a man's spirit and body with calculated precision as I climbed the ranks of the merciless criminal underworld. At nineteen, I solemnly embraced the realm of murder, extinguishing the life of a treacherous enemy—an initiation that marked my passage into a world of darkness. Yet, it was at the age of twenty-five that time seemed to freeze, crystallized by the cold-blooded murder of my mother—a haunting reminder of the malevolence hidden within, poised to steal one's soul. Pushing aside the ominous thoughts that
My father nodded, his hand shaking as he attempted to take another sip. "Marcos and Sam. Two of my best men." "And they were protecting you?" He looked at me cautiously. "Just like they always do." "Who is responsible?" Ricardo took his time refilling his drink, visibly disturbed by the attack. "It's believed to be Massimo's men." I felt compelled to reconsider everything I had learned over the years, things I would rather not remember. This news could have disastrous consequences. "Are you referring to the Massimo family from Italy? You can't be serious." The Massimo family held significant influence in Italy, much like the Bratvas in Russia. While they were considered extremists who favored traditional methods, they also upheld their sense of honor. Invading America and overthrowing the existing authority was not their style. Killing two of my father's men was either an act of revenge or a prelude to war. Either way, the danger had just escalated. I was furious at the thought,
"Kelan, please focus here!" "May I have a photo with you?" "Great actor. Great actor." The sounds of excitement reverberated, with fans lining the red carpet, eagerly reaching out for a moment with me. The nickname had stuck after a particularly intense romantic scene in my debut film. I stood casually, hands in my pockets, a smile on my face, shielding my eyes behind sunglasses. The premiere of my latest action-adventure film was poised to dominate the box office. A friend in the police force, a devoted fan of mine, had shared details about the murder. While I suspected that the detective's loyalty was influenced by my father's connections, our conversations had never crossed inappropriate boundaries. Over drinks at a strip club, Shane had provided some basic information: a quick hit, shots fired from a black Cadillac through an open window. The perpetrators lacked courage. Instead of reveling in champagne, I found myself consumed by self-pity and anger. Although I had once idoli
"Do you really think it's wise to discuss this here?" Grinder's rough voice grated on my ears as I shifted my gaze towards the imposing man. His eyes held a mix of anger and suspicion, as if he doubted my involvement in the assassination attempt. I had assigned another individual to protect my father, reserving Grinder's assistance for other purposes. My decision hadn't sat well with him. However, within the complex dynamics of crime families, there were unspoken rules, mandates followed by every capo and soldier alike. Whether they liked or respected me was irrelevant, but they had to obey orders. Protecting the Cosa Nostra had become the top priority. I had indeed absorbed everything my father had instilled in me. "I'm certain. I don't want any attention drawn to my involvement. Do you understand?" I stressed the importance of discretion as Grinder shifted uneasily, maintaining his cold gaze. "Yes, boss," he replied. I also required his protection. I wasn't naive, and he was well-