Todos os capítulos de Kidnapped by The Billionaire The Mafia Boss's Captive: Capítulo 31 - Capítulo 40

Aleksander and I walked for a while. The streets were damp from the rain that had fallen earlier. It was incredible to be in Capri; its corners hide a history that endures. It was beautiful, even after the rain. We walked side by side, but suddenly his hand took mine. No one was around, and I had no intention of running off in these shoes, so I assumed the gesture hid another motive—it wasn't to ensure I wouldn't flee. Even if there had been a passerby, I wasn't crazy enough to scream for help knowing this man had a gun.Any minimal intention I might have had, he would see it. His instincts and perceptions were trained; it was noticeable and deductible. He realized what I intended or didn't intend. He was very smart."What are you thinking about?"Maybe I'm not thinking at all, Aleksander, I assured myself without meeting his eyes, cursing my terrible luck for falling hopelessly in love with a dangerous mafioso whose touch sent dangerous, unwanted shivers straight into my heart.He st

Honeymoon? No such moment existed. Aleksander informed me we had to leave Capri. Apparently, word had reached Elmo that we were on the island. I packed what I could. Nerves attacked me, trembling refused to leave, and that hindered my ability to act quickly."Hurry up, Luna!" he called out from outside.I did the best I could."I'm coming!" I shouted back, nervous to my core.Miraculously, I finished, grabbed my suitcase, and stepped out to find Aleksander pacing like a caged animal, moving back and forth while muttering curses."We have to go."Flight was always so cliché; it always happened with him, offering no stability whatsoever. The biggest question was: Where were we going?"Where are we going?" I asked, rushing out with the same urgency as him."To the airport. We're going to New York," he informed me.Jaw dropping, I tried to form a coherent thought, but nothing came out of my mouth; my vocal cords had been struck mute by the surprise. This meant everything to me; I couldn't

On our way downtown, we passed near the apartment building where I had lived ever since I made the decision to live independently. A lump formed in my throat; I wanted my old life back, and I couldn't have it."There's my apartment," I commented. It wasn't my intention to say it out loud.But he had already heard me."I already knew," he admitted without looking at me, remaining absorbed in driving."How did this happen, Aleksander? Suddenly I'm kidnapped by the Italian mafia and all of a sudden you're holding me captive?" I felt curious about the double kidnapping topic; I had never gotten the right answers—never.I was aware of having been locked in an old room for many days, crying, lonely beneath shadows that magnified uncertainty. Many times I thought I would die or be violated. That never happened. But I was filled with dread when one of those men came for me, dragged me out, and shoved me into the trunk of a car. I remembered oxygen being scarce and finally falling unconscious.

Elena is here. Her voice, her sobs—she is mere millimeters away from me, trying to contain herself at the sight of her son. She isn't crying for me; she's crying for Aleksander. The truth held within those tear-filled eyes tries to connect with mine.Perhaps lying wasn't an option for her; she had to do it to survive. She isn't a bad person. She always treated me well, gave me love, and considered me a daughter. I push my pride aside and run into her arms."Mom, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry," I say, hugging her tightly.I am apologizing for nothing; I am not to blame for what is happening. But I must pretend I regret running away to be with Aleksander. Everything feels like a labyrinth, and I don't know if she is aware that I know Konstantinov is her son."Honey, it's fine. Sometimes we make wrong decisions and we do them for love. Don't apologize for that, Luna. Knowing you're alive is enough for me," she whispers, caressing my cheeks.I get lost in her brown eyes and the black hair fa

After several weeks of returning to Russia, spring has arrived, and it's already bidding farewell in the blink of an eye. I've gone out a couple of times with Aleksander. Outside, at the end of April, the first tree leaves, grass, and flowers have appeared, along with birdsong—a beautiful melody contrasting with the explosions I hear every single day. Whenever I am in bed, pacing back and forth in the room, gunshots ring out, and I ask myself: Is someone else wounded? Dead? Here in Russia, I'm still confined to the room; he only allows me to go out with him on rare occasions—even that time he introduced me to another criminal at a dinner held in a ghostly mansion. It terrified me that a shootout might break out of nowhere among so many armed men and two ambitious guys playing at friendly conversation, with anything capable of happening. In the end, we returned home, and I became a hostage again, which breaks my heart.Not being able to see the sun when I want to, only when he decides,