บททั้งหมดของ MY VIRGINITY SOLD TO THE LORD OF THE MAFIA : บทที่ 41 - บทที่ 50

Chapter 41Alaya's point- I won't say anything ... for now. The amenda voice slammed in the air like a cold blade. I felt my throat to tie, each beat of my heart resonating in my temples. - But stop. NOW. If I was able to surprise you, Santino will do it. And that day, he won't even give you time to beg. His eyes overwhelmed in mine, hard, implacable. I didn't even dare to breathe. I felt my legs shirk under me, my fingers tremble in spite of myself. Elias, he remained frozen, with jaws so tight that I could see the tension in his cheeks. He glanced at me, as if to implore me to find a solution, but I had no breath. -Amenda ... he tried in a deep voice, but she immediately raised her hand to stop him. - Not a word, Elias. Not a single one. You cut the bridges. Definitely. An icy chill went back along the water. The way she pronounced these words, like an irrevocable verdict, made me want to shout, to protest, to explain to her that it was not just a story of prohibited pleasure

Chapter 43Amende's point of viewThe vapor of the shower had barely dissipated that I come back to my room, my hair still damp, the towel sliding slowly on my skin. I sat on the edge of the bed, my gaze lost for a moment, then I pulled my bag towards me. By searching inside, my fingers fell on this little cardboard rectangle ... Malick's card. I took it out, Fis Turn between my fingers. The name, the number, everything was ... simple, clear, like him. I don't even know why I looked at her like this. Perhaps because since that evening, his face no longer left my thoughts. This way he had to talk to me ... to look at me ... It disturbed me more than I wanted to admit. In my left hand, my phone. On the right, this damn card. And between the two, my heart that beaten too quickly. Call or not? Part of me shouted that it would be a mistake. That I had nothing to gain from getting closer to him. But the other ... the other just wanted to hear his voice. If only once. I sighed, tilte

Chapter 45Amende's point of viewI remained frozen for a moment, unable to detach my eyes from his own. The air between us vibrated, heavy with a desire that I had not planned to face tonight. When Malick approached, so close that our fronts touched, I felt a meteoric warmth spread in my whole body. My heart was beating so hard that I felt like he was echoing in my temples. I do not know which one of us crossed the limit the first. Maybe him, maybe me. But suddenly, her lips were on mine. Burning. Pressing. As if all these years of absence had accumulated hunger that he could no longer remember. My breath was cut, but instead of backing down, I answered with the same ardor. I surprised myself to open my mouth, to let my tongue find his, with an almost painful slowness at the beginning ... Then faster, more deeply, until savoring each millimeter of her lips, each sigh escaped between us. I felt like I had a forgotten taste, a forbidden taste. When did my hands land on his shoulders

Chapter 47Elias' point of viewIt had been more than an hour that we kicked out in front of this damn gate. The kind of wait that makes you want to smoke the whole cartridge at once. Santino went around in circles like a lion in a cage, a cigarette glued to the lips. Smoke mingled with the smell of oil and salt that came from the port. Luca remained backed by the car, hands in pockets, calm as if we were waiting for the bus. I watched the surroundings. In that corner, you never know who observes you. Then, suddenly, the large gate creaks and opens slowly. Three black SUVs come out, tinted windows. The cars line up, and there ... a guy descends from the first vehicle. Large, dry, the look that pierces you like a cold blade. He had this way of walking ... like a predator who knows that he is at the top of the food chain. I take a look at Santino and Luca. We understand each other without speaking: "Fucking, who is this song?". The guy stops in front of us, hands in our pockets, an

Chapter 49Santino's point of view. I slam the door of my car so loud that the metal moans. My phalanxes are still tense around the steering wheel when I start. The engine rumbles, but not as much as my chest. I feel like my lungs burn anger. The jackal ... this dog son. He dared to look me straight in the eye, without flinching, as if he had nothing to blame himself for. As if it was me, the fool. The road scrolls, the headlights cut at night, and my fingers are drumming against leather. Each turn becomes a stab inside me. I squeeze my teeth. I still hear his voice, calm, almost insolent: "If the goods are not there, it is not my problem, Santino. »»Not his problem? I want to tear her tongue to dare to say that. I arrive in front of the house. I pile in front of the portal, go down like a madman. The guards see me arriving, no one dares to blow. I tear my jacket, the balance on the living room sofa. A bottle drags on the coffee table. I grab it, I drink in the neck, the liquid bu