Contracted to the Mafia: A Plus-Size Bride
Alexandro got up from the ring floor. His muscular body was still damp with sweat, but his eyes had cleared again. He walked to the bench in the corner of the room, took his wallet from his pants pocket lying there.
He took out a black card, not an ordinary credit card. It was dark, heavy, with a foreign bank's name and only one name embossed on it. Alexandro De Luca.
"Here," he said, handing me the card. "You can buy whatever you want."