Sold to the Mafia king
His forehead dropped to my neck, his breath still uneven, his hand slowly moving up into my hair, tangling in it.
“I lost everything today,” he murmured. His voice had changed. Not sharp. Not commanding. Just… tired.
I shifted slightly beneath him. “The warehouse? The fight? Or…”
“No,” he said, pulling back just enough to look at me.
“My brother. Malder.”
My breath caught.
“I had to do it,” he continued, his jaw tightening. “He betrayed us. He set everything in motion. He’s the reason you were taken.”
A pause.
Then quieter—