Mafia Lord’s Possession
They pinned Marco’s shoulders against the cold metal chair, his arms secured as he struggled, a small flicker of pain in his eyes but never breaking his silence.
Lorenzo rolled his eyes. “If he won’t break, maybe we can do something to that pretty face.” From his pocket, he took out a small, polished blade, turning it thoughtfully between his fingers. A dark grin spread across his face as he leaned down, meeting Marco’s gaze.
“You’re proud of that face, aren’t you?” Lorenzo murmured, his tone mocking. “Let’s make sure it leaves an impression.”
Marco struggled, knowing his face used to be his prized possession since his mother looked so much like him. He had vowed to never let any harm come n
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