Lahat ng Kabanata ng Trapped By The Mafia Don: Kabanata 61 - Kabanata 70

ReneighThe taste of him was like always, so amazing in every way. He was bold and unforgiving, dominating, and boy, could the man kiss like no other. I fell against him, my heart racing as he pushed his tongue into my mouth. It was so easy to wrap my arms around him, pulling him even closer.He tilted me back even as she swept me onto my toes, the kiss increasing the savage hunger we both felt. I was breathless, my mind soaring. Maybe there could be a future after all.When he finally eased back, he winked before taking my hand. "Let's go, sunshine. I have a feeling your mother is missing you."The warmth of the SUV was actually nice for a change, the leather seats much more comfortable than I'd remembered. He'd told me about his confrontation with his father and I'd seen the pain on his face, the almost desperate need to find his mother. With all his connections, if he hadn't been able to do so by now, I had to wonder whether his father had lied to him once again.I shuddered at the

ReneighBetrayal.There seemed to be a hell of a lot of that going around lately. In the aftermath of what had occurred at the hospital, Elijah had become antsy, enraged the majority of time. Four days had passed, hours spent alone in a huge house by myself.Well, other than the guards still remaining outside.He'd become convinced there would be some kind of retribution by the Chicago mob, although from what little I'd heard, there were no direction connections of Damien's disappearance that would lead to Storm Enterprises in any manner.He'd only told me I'd never have to worry about Damien again, but I'd seen the bruises on his knuckles after his return. Even his mannerisms had changed, the light I'd once seen in his eyes gone. Shut out. He had difficulty talking to me and even when he did, he'd reverted back to our relationship being all business.Although the nights were filled with passion, unbridled in every way.I couldn't handle many more of his emotional swings, the anger th

Elijah"Elijah?" Nicolas held out a pen, waiting for my signature on the contracts. I was the last one to sign, still having a certain number of reservations.There was no real reason why. I would only be in Las Vegas part time, sharing a portion of the management. We all had other operations, the five diverse in every way.I'd flown out, leaving trash removal to Wally, who'd been promoted to my second. While I knew he'd do a good job, the remorse around time spent with Markus remained difficult. As far as future endeavors, I was undecided at this point. I had other more important things on my mind."You look tired, my friend," Nicolas said as he sauntered closer. "And you are unusually quiet."I gave him a half smile. "I have my reasons.""And they wouldn't have anything to do with a beautiful redhead, now would they?""I can't lament over what I shouldn't have touched in the first place."He rolled his eyes. "You Americans are all alike, no idea what a woman truly wants.""And the C

"This doesn't change anything," I whisper as his fingers slip down along the front of my panties and I release a gasp and a moan. God, it feels so fucking good, the anticipation like candy on my spine. "This doesn't change a thing. Our deal stands. You can do... fuck... you can do this all you want. I still hate you.""I know you do," he says, smirking that devilish grin as his fingers move up and down the front of my panties, down to my dripping with pussy, and oh, God, I'm so wet he slides along my folds and pushes slowly inside of me before teasing my clit in incredible circles. "You despise me and that's why I love this so goddamn much. The way you look at me like you want to kill me, but you also want to fuck me, is like heaven. It's like your moans are music and your tongue is candy and God, Clarissa, I hate you just as much, but I want you even more."—Twenty-two-year-old Clarissa Ricci is going through hell. Offered against her will in marriage to a formidable Italian Mafia D

ClarissaThe door opens and Papa pulls me to the side as three men step into the room.The first is Fynn Russo. I recognize him from back in the day: he gives me a simple frown, nods once, and joins Nico at the drink tray. The next is Gavino Russo, handsome like his brothers, the youngest of the three. He winks once and walks over to Karah, scoops Antonio into his arms, and coos at the little boy, tickling him and making him laugh.The last remains in the doorway.My heart races wildly, staring him in the face after all this time, and it's like I never left. I feel like that girl again, the awkward fifteen-year-old with long gangly legs and a chronic case of low self-esteem, and it only makes me despise him even more. I thought I left that girl behind, but it's like going back in time.He's the same as he was back then, only older, more mature. A grown man now, no longer a boy. Handsome, haughty. Eyes like the space between stars. Hair like coals. He's bigger, more muscular, more stub