Sold to the Mafia king
His eyes returned to me—slow, assessing. Then, without warning, his hands shot up and clamped around my throat.
I gasped, instinctively clawing at his arms. He didn’t move. “Disobey me again,” he said, voice low, stripped of warmth, “and we won’t be counting next time.”
Even shaking, I lifted my chin. “Then don’t mistake silence for obedience,” I said hoarsely.
Carlino’s voice followed—calm, absolute, as if nothing had happened. “Lock her floor tonight.”
That was when it settled.
There was no mercy here. No exaggeration. Every word, every threat—he meant them.
He wasn’t pretending to be the devil. He simply didn’t bother hiding it.
---
She hates him.
He refuses to le
Bab Populer