All Chapters of His Possession: The Mafia's Bride: Chapter 1 - Chapter 7

CHAPTER 1: The man who bought me was wearing a black suit that cost more than my father's life.I knew it the second I saw his shoes. Italian leather, polished so clean I could see the reflection of our broken kitchen light. No one in our neighborhood in Rome wore shoes like that. No one except the kind of man my father used to whisper about when he thought I was asleep.The Mafia."Two million dollars, Marco. Where is it?"I froze behind the thin curtain that separated our kitchen from the living room. My hands were still in the soapy water from washing the plates from my waitress shift at Mama Rosa's Diner. I worked twelve hours today. My feet were bleeding inside my cheap sneakers. I had thirty euros in my apron pocket. That was all the money we had left in the world.And my father owed two million.My father, Marco Rossi, was on his knees on our cracked tile floor. He was 55 years old but he looked 70 tonight. Chubby, balding, his white t-shirt stained with sweat and cheap wine.

CHAPTER 3:I couldn't breathe.The silver frame in my hands was shaking. The woman in the photo was smiling so brightly, so kindly, with long wavy dark brown hair, hazel eyes, light morena skin, and a small mole near her left eye.I have the same mole. In the exact same place.The little boy she was holding was maybe 13 years old, with black hair and cold grey eyes even then. Damien. A young Damien, before he became a monster. He was smiling too - a real smile, not the cold smirk he gave me. He was holding his mother tightly."Isabella and Damien, 2005."The handwriting on the back was a woman's handwriting. Soft, elegant.Isabella.Isabella Vitale.The name hit me like a train. I had heard that name before. Not from Damien. From my father.When I was seven years old, before my mother left, I remembered my father coming home late one night, drunk, crying. He was a driver for a rich family then. He kept saying a name over and over."Isabella, I'm sorry. Isabella, forgive me. It was an

CHAPTER 5: I woke up because someone was staring at me.It was not a scary stare. It was a quiet, intense stare that made my skin tingle even in my sleep.I opened my eyes slowly.Damien Vitale was lying on his side, his head resting on his hand, looking at me. He was already dressed - not in a suit, but in a simple white t-shirt and black pants, his black hair still messy from sleep, his grey eyes soft in the morning light coming from the floor-to-ceiling windows.The black silk nightgown had slipped off my shoulder while I slept. His eyes were on my bare shoulder, then on my face."Good morning, Mrs. Vitale," he said, his voice rough from sleep.I pulled the sheets up quickly, covering myself. "What time is it?""Six AM. You slept for five hours. You were tired."Five hours. I had been Mrs. Vitale for twelve hours now. Twelve hours ago I was a waitress in Rome washing plates. Now I was in a billion-dollar mansion in Sicily, in a black silk nightgown, in a bed with a Mafia Don who w

CHAPTER 7: His hands were under my thighs, carrying me to our bed.My black Louboutin heels had fallen off somewhere near the fireplace - one near the chair, one near the closet - and I didn't care. My arms were around Damien's neck, his black tuxedo jacket cold against my bare shoulders from my off-shoulder blood red dress, his grey eyes dark and looking at my red lips that were swollen from his kissing."Elena," he whispered again, his forehead against mine, both of us breathing hard from the kiss that had started downstairs in the dining room and continued all the way up the marble staircase, through the hallway, into our bedroom that he had locked behind us."Damien," I whispered back, my voice shaking. Not from fear now. From something else. Something that made my blood red dress feel too tight, my heart beat too fast, my skin tingle where his hands touched my thighs.He laid me down gently on the huge bed with black silk sheets. The bed was so big, so soft, and I was in the mid