Contracted to the Mafia: A Plus-Size Bride
I don’t know what it is, but I know I don’t want it.
“Alex… please…”
“Call me Mr. Alexandro.”
“Mr. Alexandro… please… don’t…”
He pushes deeper. I cry.
“You’re going to learn. You’re going to learn who holds the power. You’re going to learn who controls your life, and after this, you’ll never dare ask for a divorce again,” Alexandro says.
I can’t answer. I can only cry, on all fours on the concrete floor, my body trembling, the pain spreading from behind through my entire body.