Five Years After Breaking Up, the Don Begged Me Back
My ex-boyfriend, the Don's heir, was getting married today.
In the grand reception hall, the bride, Elena, moved through the crowd with a champagne flute in hand, toasting the bosses and captains who'd flown in from across the island.
In the dressing room, Luca had me pinned against the gown the bride had just changed out of, fucking me hard.
The mirror gave me back a stranger, hair tangled, not a stitch of clothing left on me, my neck covered in marks he'd left like a signature.
The camera on the side table blinked red.
Three knocks at the door. Luca stood up, straightened the white rose boutonniere on his lapel, picked up the black earpiece from the table and pressed it in.
He tossed it at me without looking.
"One night. Half a million euros. Anna, you're even pricier than I remembered."
I watched his back as he walked out, and picked up the check with shaking hands.
Rosa, don't be scared. Mama's got the money to save you.