Semua Bab Trapped by the Mafia Boss : Bab 111 - Bab 120

Mario's POVWhat the hell was the mayor of San Diego doing in one of Kosta’s warehouse?That question wouldn’t stop screaming in my head. I sat there, slouched deep into the plane seat, arms crossed, eyes wide open but not really seeing anything. My brain was running miles I couldn’t catch up with.Of all people… A whole Mayor?It made sense now, though. Or at least it explained something. The way Kosta always seemed untouchable. How his name would come up in case files and then vanish. Witnesses gone. Footage lost. Charges dropped like leaves in fall. The system didn’t just fail, someone was helping it look away.And if the damn mayor was involved?No wonder.The mayor of San Diego had always rubbed me the wrong way. Flashy guy. Always in a crisp suit that screamed, I care about my image more than my people. He talked too fast, smiled too wide, and never gave a straight answer. The kind of man that could shake your hand and stab you in the back all in the same breath, then blame it

Mario's POV We were back in the living room, listening in on the warehouses.Sylvia had the chessboard set up on a table, her bare legs curled beneath her as she sat between my thighs, my chest against her back on the couch. One of her arms rested lazily across mine, the other reached forward to move her knight, and I swear, the soft shift of her hips each time she leaned in was enough to test my control.My shirt, loose around her shoulders, barely covering the curve of her thighs was enough to drive me crazy, and the fact that I knew there was nothing underneath, had my thoughts tangled, my concentration slipping with every casual brush of her body against mine.“You’re losing,” she teased lightly, reaching across me for a pawn she’d knocked over. The motion arched her back, lifting the hem of the shirt just enough to show the soft flesh of her ass. My breath caught.God.I clenched my jaw, forcing my eyes back to the board, but I couldn't even remember which color I was playing.“

SYLVIA'S POV The scent of leather, soft perfume, and something faintly sweet hit me the second I stepped inside. Pleasure Chest wasn’t dim or sketchy like I imagined, it was bright, sleek, and warm, with glass shelves and velvet walls lined with things that whispered things to you without ever speaking.A woman behind the counter looked up and gave me a smile, not judgmental, not nosy. Just soft and knowing, like she’d seen a hundred women walk in with the same shy shoulders and secret thoughts.Like she saw women like me all the time: a little wide-eyed, a little excited, dressed in a man’s T-shirt and joggers, holding a black card that clearly wasn't theirs.I nodded slightly and wandered farther in, letting my fingers brush against silk blindfolds, soft ropes, and delicate lace in every color. A display of vibrators sat beneath warm lights like art pieces. A mannequin wore a bold, black custom set; leather straps, mesh cups, open crotch. My eyes lingered on it.“Beautiful,” a voi

Warning: This chapter contains intense explicit sex scenes.SYLVIA'S POV My breath caught.Did he really just say that?I stared up at him, my heart pounding so loud it drowned out everything else. Stroke that sweet pussy for Daddy… The words echoed in my head, heating my skin from the inside out.This wasn’t the Mario who made me breakfast in the mornings or kissed my forehead. This wasn’t the quiet, careful man who always asked for permission with his eyes.This… was different.Raw.Hungry.Commanding.And God help me—I loved it.Still, I hesitated. Not out of fear, but from the sheer shock of it. My lips parted, trying to breathe, to speak, but nothing came out. My hands were trembling, fingers hovering just above my core like I needed to convince myself that this was real.“Don’t be shy,” his voice dropped lower. “Or do you want daddy to help you?”A shiver danced up my spine.This was what I asked for. What I begged him for. Not Mario the husband. Not Mario the protector.But th

Sylvia's POV I woke up aching. Everywhere.The kind of ache that makes you forget how to breathe for a second.My thighs burned, and between them… God. I whimpered before I could stop it, my hand automatically going to my inner thigh where the soreness pulsed hot and deep. I flinched. I was swollen. Raw.Slowly, I blinked the sleep out of my eyes. The room… looked clean. No clothes laying around. Fresh sheets. Curtains drawn. Dim morning light slipping in. It was like nothing had happened.Except… everything had.I was naked, sprawled on soft white sheets that didn’t match what I remembered. He’d changed them. After.My wrists were red. The skin still stung where the cuffs had been. I turned them gently, watching the faint imprint fade in and out with every movement.What the hell did he do to me?The memory hit in sharp, messy flashes. His voice, cold and rough. My own cries. His hands. His mouth. The way he bent me, filled me, used me.I should’ve felt ashamed. Maybe I did. But und