The Mafia’s Feisty Captive
Santiago struggled in his hold, his fists swinging wildly but Bianchi stared at him with amusement dancing in his eyes, he gave him a taunting smile as he slammed him down on the pavement roughly.
“Fuck!” Santiago gasped as pain shot through his body.
Bianchi crouched beside him, grabbing him by the chin and forcing him to meet his gaze.
"The Don wants a word," he said, voice smooth but deadly. "And lucky for you, I'm in a generous mood tonight. You're still breathing."
Santiago glared at him with hatred burning in his eyes. "Fuck you and your fucking boss!"
Bianchi’s grin widened, he always did love a fighter. Without warning he drove his fist straight into Santiago’s gut.
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