Library

Search

Home / Mafia / MAFIA CEO'S OBSESSION / Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

All Chapters of MAFIA CEO'S OBSESSION: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

11 Chapters

1

Valentina ReyesNew York City never lets you forget you're small.I hadn't slept more than two hours in a row for three nights. The alley off Flushing Avenue in Brooklyn was my spot narrow, shadowed by a fire escape, shielded from the worst of the wind. I'd curled up against a dumpster with my back to the bricks, hoodie pulled over my head, knees to chest. Sleep came in fits, sirens blaring, rats skittering past, some drunk yelling at nothing. Every time a car slowed, I jolted awake, heart slamming, ready to run.Morning light hit the alley like a slap. I unfolded myself, joints cracking, muscles stiff. My body felt heavy full breasts aching from the cold, round ass numb against the concrete, thighs chafed from jeans I'd worn for a week straight. The faint stink clung to me, sweat, alley damp, the sour edge of not enough food. I called it my armor. It made people look away. Made me harder to touch.I stood, stretched, and felt the crescent moon birthmark on my inner right thigh itch und

2

Alessandro RossiThe alarm never had to wake me. I was already up by 4:45, the way I had been every morning since I was twenty three and realized sleep was a luxury men like me couldn't afford.Penthouse on the 72nd floor of One57, Manhattan. Floor to ceiling glass looking out over Central Park like a dark mirror. The bed was king sized, black sheets, empty on both sides. I hadn't shared it in years not since the night I realized trust was a blade turned inward.I rose, bare feet silent on heated marble. Naked, I crossed to the bathroom, the city lights still glittering below like fallen stars. Mirror fogged from the shower I hadn't taken yet. I studied my reflection the way I studied enemies, critically, coldly.Dark hair still damp from last night's restless sweat. Blue eyes sharp enough to cut. Jaw shadowed with stubble I would shave in exactly seven minutes. The jagged knife scar on my left hip three inches long, raised and pale caught the low light. I traced it once with my thumb, f

3

Valentina ReyesThe wallet was heavy in my hand, a solid weight that felt like victory as I slipped away from the Rockefeller crosswalk. I didn't look back never look back. The crowd swallowed me whole, bodies bumping, voices blending into white noise. My heart pounded in my chest, not from fear, but from the rush. The thrill of it all. One quick brush, one dip of my fingers, and I was $300 richer, maybe more.I ducked into a side alley off 48th, leaning against the brick wall to catch my breath. The city hummed around me horns blaring, a vendor shouting about hot pretzels. I flipped open the leather, my fingers steady now. Crisp bills, a few hundred. Credit cards I'd ditch. And then... the black one. Matte, no name, no numbers just that gold line shimmering like a promise. I turned it over, felt the smooth surface under my thumb. Limitless. The word echoed in my head.A small smile tugged at my full lips. This could be big. Food for a week. A real shower. Maybe even a night off the str

4

Valentina ReyesThe sheets were cool against my skin, but my body was still humming restless, like the city outside the window refused to let me settle. I lay curled on my side in my red dress knees drawn up, the blanket pulled high. The room smelled faintly of steak and red wine, a reminder of the meal I’d just devoured like someone might take it away any second. King bed. Soft pillows. No rats. No sirens right in my ear. It felt wrong. Too good. Too temporary.I stared at the ceiling, the faint glow from the city lights casting long shadows that moved like they were breathing. My hand rested on my stomach, fingers absently tracing circles.The black card lay on the nightstand beside the empty wine glass, matte surface catching the light like it was watching me back.The burner buzzed again. Rosa.You sure you’re good for tomorrow? High roller. Quiet type. Pays extra for control play. Your favorite.I stared at the screen. Control play. Masks. Power. The things that usually made me feel

5

Valentina ReyesThe sidewalk kept moving under my feet, but I felt like I was standing still while People brushed past in suits ,on phones, tourists with cameras, and a delivery guy on a bike yelling at someone to move. I walked because stopping felt worse. The emerald dress swished against my thighs with every step, the fabric soft and mocking. It had felt like power ten minutes ago. Now it just felt like a costume.My hand was still shaking when I shoved the burner back into my purse. The coffee cup was crushed in my fist, cold dregs dripping onto my fingers. I tossed it into the next trash can without looking.The blue elephant stayed in my head. Big ears. Tiny trunk. Black button eyes. Smiling like it knew nothing about the world.I swallowed hard. Kept walking.The ache in my chest didn’t fade. It spread slow, heavy, familiar. I’d learned to carry it years ago, like an extra heartbeat. But today it hurt sharper. Louder. Like the dress, the hotel, the card had cracked something open t

6

Alessandro RossiThe sun set like it was bleeding out over the Hudson red streaks fading to black. I watched from the penthouse window, tie loose around my neck, scotch untouched on the desk. Day shift was over. Rossi Enterprises had closed deals, moved stocks, built walls of legitimacy that no one could see through. But night? Night was when the real work began.Isabella waited in the living room when I came out. She was nursing a glass of red, legs crossed on the leather couch, her dark hair pinned back like she was still in boardroom mode. My sister three years younger, sharper than me in some ways, softer in others. The only family I had left after our father's "accident" and our mother's heart giving out from the stress. She'd taken over the legal side of the business cleaning money, handling contracts, keeping the feds at bay."You're going to the warehouse?" she asked, not looking up from her tablet.I adjusted my cufflinks. "Meeting with the Colombians. The shipment's delayed."Sh

7

Isabella RossiThe penthouse was too quiet after Alessandro left.I stood in the living room for a long moment after the elevator doors closed behind him, glass of red still in my hand. The city lights glittered through the floor to ceiling windows, indifferent. I swirled the wine, watched the legs run down the inside of the glass. My pulse was already up but not from the alcohol.From what i know I had twenty, maybe thirty minutes before he came back.I set the glass down and Walked to the hallway that led to the private wing. The door to the guest suite was cracked open. Light spilled out, warm, low.I pushed it wider.Mateo was inside.My sexy personal bodyguard he is six foot three and built like a wall with dark hair cropped short, jaw sharp enough to cut glass. Tattoos crept up his neck from under the collar of his black shirt. He’d been assigned to me two years ago after a close call with one of Enzo’s men. Alessandro’s orders “Keep her safe. No exceptions.”Mateo never left my sid

8

Isabella RossiThe guest suite door closed behind Mateo with a soft click that felt louder than a gunshot.

9

Alessandro RossiThe scotch burned going down, but it didn’t dull the edge.I sat in the booth, curtains drawn, the club's pulse throbbing through my veins. The crowd had thinned to the late night die hards ,the ones who didn’t know when to stop, or didn’t care. A masked woman with red hair approached the table next to mine, leaning in to whisper to a suit with too much money and too little self control. He slipped her a wad of cash. She led him to the back.I watched them go, the sway of her hips reminding me of her,Luca slid back into the booth across from me, a fresh beer in hand, face flushed from working the room.“Talked to Tony,” he said, voice low under the music. “He remembers a girl matching the description red lips, green eyes under the mask, full figure. Came in a couple times last month. Didn’t stay long. Left with clients who paid big. Said she was ‘professional but distant.’ No name. No regulars. Just cash and gone.”I nodded once, fingers drumming the glass. “And Kira?”Luc

10

Valentina ReyesI stared at the coffee. Black. Cold.Waiting for tomorrow suddenly felt like suicide.The declined ATM was a scream in the dark. They were close. Too close.I couldn’t afford another night in the hotel. Couldn’t afford another swipe. Couldn’t afford to wait for $18k.$12,200 was all I had.But it was enough to beg Javier for mercy.Enough to leave tonight.I stood. Left cash on the table for the untouched coffee. Walked out fast heels clicking, emerald dress catching every light like a beacon.No going back to the hotel.No bags.Just me and the cash.I pulled out the burner one last time.i Dialed Javier.He answered, voice rough. “Val? Again?”“I’m not waiting for tomorrow,” I said. “I’m coming now. $12,200. Take it. Get me out tonight.”Silence.Then a long exhale.“$12k? That’s suicide money, mija. Group run only. Desert walk. You’ll be lucky to make it.”“I don’t care. I’m leaving now. Same spot?”“You’re insane. But fine. 4 a.m. Flushing Ave tire shop. Bring the cash. Nothing else.

PREV

NEXT

SCAN CODE TO READ ON APP

DMCA.com Protection Status