All Chapters of SOLD TO THE MAFIA LORD: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

Hope. I knelt in the cool soil of the garden and plucked the few weeds from around the flowers and greenery. With Damian ’s morning ritual of working,i had found other ways to occupy my time, much to the dismay of the gardener who flew out twice a week to tend the grounds. Ever since my outburst on the beach, Damian had ceased to push Alba and Dr. Karounis at me for every little health concern. Instead, they stayed firmly in the background on an as needed basis, and Damian had relented on my coming up and down the stairs alone. Despite the fact that he continued to work in the mornings, he came out to have breakfast with me before returning to his office. Then the fun began for me. Each day I found a new method of driving him insane. He would come looking for me when work was finished, and invariably i tried the restraint he had promised to exercise when it came to demanding that i rest. When Damian had found me in the garden on my hands and knees, ithought he was going to burst a

Damian I entered my office, irritation replacing my earlier good mood. I stared hard at Rosie, who stood to the side. “I do not appreciate this intrusion,” i said crisply. “There was no call, no warning, no permission asked to come out here.” Rosie's face paled and her eyes widened. “This is my private living area, and as such, you do not have free rein as you do in my business settings. Are we understood?” “Yes, sir,” she said stiffly. “Now, what was so important that it didn’t warrant a phone call?” I demanded. “I have discovered that another design was stolen,” she said softly. “What?” Curses spilled from my lips, and it took a moment for me to realize I was speaking to myself, and Rose didn’t understand a word of it. I shook my head and put both hands down on my desk. “What design? Tell me everything.” Her expression hardened. “It is an older one, a design you discarded. It was the original plan for the Rio de Janeiro hotel. But still, she must have sold it to Marcelli wit

Hope. Damian's jet touched down in New York in the late afternoon, and a limousine was waiting for us when we stepped off the plane. A tall, formidable looking man stood by the car, and as we drew closer, i could see a strong resemblance between him and Damian . “Tony,” Damian called out. “I did not expect you to meet us. This is a surprise.” Tony gave a half smile. “Can I not greet my brother?” Damian put an arm around my waist and drew me forward. “Tony,you remember Hope. Hope this is my younger brother Tony.” I smiled. “I’m very glad to meet you.” His gaze flickered impassively over me, and he didn’t return my smile.bSlowly mine faded as i read the unwelcoming look on his face. Instinctively, I shrank into Damian Then Tony’s gaze dropped to the hand on which i wore the ring, and he outright frowned. He stared back up at Damian, his jaw tight. “You will be courteous,” Damian said in a very low tone. Even so, I could hear the bite in his voice. “I’m pleased to see you again

Hope. Once inside the house, Damian kept his hand at my back and told Alba and his bodyguards to go to bed. We then went into the living room to grab a bottle of vodka before he led me upstairs to his bedroom. “Are you still curious?” he asked once we were inside and he had closed the bedroom door. Uncapping the vodka, he took a swallow then placed the bottle on the table. Watching him, I did the same, took a couple sips of water, then coughed and handed it back. He chuckled and drank once more before setting the bottle on the nightstand. He dimmed the lights and stripped the bed of its comforter before turning back to me. “Are you?” “Damian” He wrapped one arm around my waist and put his forefinger to my lips. “I want you, Hope. My cock is aching to be inside your warm little pussy.” He kissed me, and I yielded, my body already reacting to his touch, wanting him. Remembering how he made me feel. How he made me cum. His fingers touched my shoulders, and I felt the dress dragged

Damian. I paced back and forth at the foot of Hope’s bed while the hotel physician administered the sedative. She was beyond distraught, and the doctor had moved immediately to prevent further upset. As the doctor stood and backed away from the bed, he looked at me, a grim expression on his face. Fear tightened in my chest. “Is she all right? Is the baby all right?” The doctor motioned me across the room and away from where Hope now quietly lay. “Her injuries are not physical. If they were, perhaps I would be of use. Her distress is mental. If it is as you said, and she has regained her memory, it is that which has caused her immeasurable pain.” I stirred impatiently. “What can be done? She cannot be left as she is. There must be something we can do.” The sight of her pale face and her eyes, so huge with devastation, twisted my gut painfully. “You should return her to your home, to a place that is more familiar. She needs a doctor, not for her physical well being, but one who can