Rebellious Princess
My father found me too rebellious, so he gave me to Marco, tasking him with making a lady out of me.
To the outside world, Macro was the ruthless boss to a Mafia empire, but to me, he was just a man with a perpetually stern face.
I tried everything to defy him.
I smashed his car. Then I swapped his PPT for the lowbrow stand-up he hated most. And he opened it during a company meeting.
Yet, every rebellion ended the same.
He cornered me, his massive frame dominating mine on the silk sheets of his king-sized bed, the polished oak of his desk, or the leather confines of the car's backseat.
His hot skin against mine, his fingers tracing fire along my curves. He moved with a primal hunger