The Special Mafia Bundle

CHAPTER ONE

GRACE

My wrists are burning. My ankles hurt. The cold
embraces me and makes my body shake.

A black blindfold
smothers my vision, plunging me into absolute darkness. I can’t scream, can’t
call for help, can’t even beg for my life—the filthy rag stuffed in my mouth
sees to that. But even if it weren’t there, I doubt I’d have the strength to
utter a single word.

How did I end up like
this?

How did I become a
prisoner in this cold, filthy place?

Who is behind this?

And, more importantly...
why am I here?

The wooden door groans
open with a long, dreadful creak, a sound that sends shivers through me. I
freeze, listening, but nothing follows—only the sound of slow, steady
breathing. Someone is here.

I don’t move. I wait.
Their footsteps approach, deliberate and heavy, until they stop right in front
of me.

“It’s time,” one of them
says.

“At last,” the other
responds before yanking me to my feet.

I don’t struggle. I
don’t fight. There’s no point. These men are monsters—towering, brutal figures
who could break me with a flick of their wrists. I know I have no chance of
escaping them.

The ropes around my
wrists loosen, then the ones around my legs. I don’t deny it—I’m terrified.
What do they mean by "It’s time"?

Finally, they untie the
blindfold. I open my eyes slowly. The room is dim, but I can still make out the
details. My gaze sweeps over the crumbling walls—once red, now fading, black
creeping over half the room like rot. Cracks split the surface. This place will
collapse sooner or later.

Then I see him. The man
in front of me. He’s wearing a suit, but this time, his face is visible. Scars
carve jagged lines across his skin, making him even more terrifying.

“If you scream or try to
run,” he warns, his voice like gravel, “you won’t make it out of here alive. So
do your part, unless you want us to do it the hard way.”

I say nothing. Even with
the rag removed from my mouth, I keep silent.

The other man grips my
neck, forcing me to focus. My body is weak from being tied up for so long, but
I force myself to move, to walk, even though every step is a struggle. My legs
threaten to buckle beneath me.

We leave the room, and
that’s when true fear sinks in. Questions flood my mind.

Is this the end?

Are they going to kill
me?

One thought cuts through
the terror—Kate. My little sister. Sixteen years old, probably waiting for me,
terrified and alone. My parents… they must be searching for me, turning over
every inch of land, sea, and sky.

I miss them.

I miss them so much.

But I can’t cry. I won’t
let them see my weakness. If I break now, I’ll never forgive myself. I take a
deep, ragged breath, forcing the tears back.

The corridor stretches
before us, long and narrow, its deep red walls polished and elegant. Doors line
both sides—room after room, endless. We keep walking until they stop me in
front of one.

“Take her inside and
keep her still,” the scarred man orders. “I’ll go get Candy.”

The other man nods
before shoving me into the room.

The door slams shut
behind us, trapping me inside with him. I stand frozen, my eyes scanning the
space.

Shock washes over me.
The room is filled with women’s clothing—dresses, heels, makeup scattered
everywhere. But what unsettles me most are the mask and handcuffs resting on
the vanity table. My gaze flicks to the opposite wall, where another door
stands closed. A bathroom, maybe.

Before I can process
anything further, a hand snakes around my waist, yanking me back.

A strangled gasp escapes
me, but his large, rough palm clamps over my mouth.

“Shut up,” he hisses.
“If you scream, I swear I’ll kill you myself. Nothing you say will help you. We
don’t like women talking in here...”

I thrash, but it’s
useless. He’s taller, stronger—his grip is iron.

Panic rises as his
breath tickles my neck, his nose pressing into my hair. The sickening sound of
him inhaling deeply sends a shudder through me. His hands start to roam,
fingers creeping up my thighs.

I squeeze my eyes shut,
bracing for what comes next.

Then, suddenly—

The door bursts open.

The man with the scars
stands in the doorway, rage contorting his face. Behind him, a woman stands—her
hair a striking shade of red, velvet-like in the dim light. She looks older
than me, but not by much.

Before I can react,
Scarred Man yanks me away from my attacker with a force that nearly knocks me
off my feet.

Relief floods me, but I
barely have time to catch my breath before the red-haired woman storms forward.
She grabs my assailant by the collar, jerking him close as she spits words at
him in furious, sharp syllables.

“Was zum Teufel machst
du da?!”

(What the fuck do you
think you’re doing?!)

I curse silently,
frustrated that I can’t understand the language they’re speaking.

“Nichts.”

(Nothing.)

Her grip tightens. “Sie
wissen, wie viel Ihr Leben uns kostet?”

(Do you know how much
her life will cost us?)

The man swallows hard.
“Nicht...”

(No...)

“Lass mich nicht in
deinen Arsch treten. Verschwinde jetzt von hier.”

(Don’t make me kick your
ass. Now get out of here.)

With a sharp shove, she
sends him stumbling toward the door. He barely catches himself on a chair
before bolting out of the room.

Scarred Man exhales
sharply, then turns his gaze to the red-haired woman.

“Candy.”

“Yes, sir,” she responds
without hesitation.

“I’m entrusting her to
you. You know what to do.”

“Yes, my lord.”

He storms out, still
seething. The moment the door closes, Candy turns her full attention to me. Her
eyes roam over me, scrutinizing every inch, before she steps closer.

“You’re very pretty,”
she murmurs.

I swallow hard. “What am
I doing here?”

She doesn’t answer.
Instead, she takes my wrist and leads me toward the closed door. My stomach
knots.

“Go inside and shower.
Make sure you clean yourself thoroughly. Understood? Get as clean and
presentable as possible.”

I hesitate. “Why am I
here?” I try again, my voice laced with desperation.

Still, no answer. And I
get it. If I were in her position, I wouldn’t risk my life for a stranger
either.

Resigned, I step inside.
Before I can react, the door clicks shut behind me.

I whirl around,
searching for any possible escape. A window, a vent—anything. But the room is
sealed, its stark white walls and tiled floor giving it the eerie feel of a
surreal prison.

My body folds to the
ground, head resting on my knees as silent tears slip down my face.

A sudden, urgent knock
makes me jump.

“Get out. Now,” Candy’s
voice commands.

I force my legs to move,
peeling off my filthy clothes. The warm water soothes my skin, washing away
grime—but not fear.

Another knock, harder
this time.

“You need to come with
me. Now.”

I don’t answer. Instead,
I grab a towel, wrap it around my body, and step out.

Candy stands waiting,
arms crossed. Her expression is unreadable, but she doesn’t look angry.

For some reason, that’s
the only thing keeping me from completely breaking apart.

Candy moves swiftly,
taking a towel and running it over my hair, my arms, and my legs, ensuring I am
completely dry.

She hands me a bra and
panties, her expression unreadable. I say nothing, numbly obeying as I slip
them on.

Then she extends a red
dress toward me.

Confusion flickers
through me as I take in the design. It’s beautiful, expensive-looking—but far
too short. Wearing it would expose more of me than I’m comfortable with.

“Put it on. That’s an
order.”

My hands tremble
slightly as I take the dress. Slowly, I slip it over my body.

When I’m ready, Candy
moves behind me, tightening the corset to cinch my waist, her hands adjusting
the fabric to accentuate my chest. A sick feeling rises in my stomach.

What is this?

Why am I here?

Next, she presents a
pair of matching red heels. They’re stunning—tall, sleek—but so high I doubt
I’ll be able to walk in them.

“Put them on,” she
repeats.

I comply without
protest, sliding my feet into them.

She takes my arm and
guides me to the vanity. Seated on a small bench, I watch as she moves behind
me again, working on my hair, creating waves that cascade over my shoulders.
The scent of perfume surrounds me as she spritzes it over my skin.

Then she moves in front
of me, pulling out makeup.

Her hands are careful,
precise as she applies it, layering color onto my face. When she reaches my
eyes, blending dark shadows onto my lids, she hums softly. The eerie melody
sends a fresh wave of nerves through me.

Then, she speaks.

“Listen carefully.” Her
voice is firm, carrying an energy that demands attention. “In a few minutes,
you’ll walk out there in front of several men. From there, you’ll see what
happens next. But when you’re on that platform, you must follow three fundamental
rules. If you break any of them, consider yourself dead by the end of the
night.”

Dead?

My breath catches. My
sense of time is already gone—has it really become night already?

I can only sit there,
listen, and obey. I have no choice.

“The first rule—do not
speak. Keep your mouth shut at all times. The second rule—once you have an
owner, you must never reveal anything about your past. No names. No family. No
home. Nothing.” She pauses, her eyes locking onto mine. “And lastly—and listen
well—do not try to run. If you do, they will put a bullet between your
eyebrows.”

A violent tremor runs
through my body.

Did she just say—?

“O-owner…?” I stammer,
disbelief making my voice shake.

Candy opens her mouth,
as if searching for a way to respond, but before she can, the door swings open.

“Is she ready?” Scarred
Man steps inside, his sharp eyes scrutinizing me.

Candy lifts her chin
proudly. “Perfectly ready.”

He strides over,
gripping my chin in one rough hand. His fingers dig into my skin as he tilts my
face, studying me with cold precision. Then, a slow smirk spreads across his
lips.

“Perfect,” he murmurs.
“You’re beautiful. No doubt you’ll make us good money tonight.”

A low, pleased chuckle
escapes him before he turns to Candy.

“Candy.”

“Yes, my lord?” she
replies without hesitation.

“Put the mask and cuffs
on her.”

My eyes widen.

Candy doesn’t hesitate.
“Of course, my lord.”

She retrieves the
handcuffs, holding them out toward me. I don’t resist—it would be useless. My
wrists are bound, the metal tight and unforgiving.

Scarred Man steps in,
ensuring the cuffs are secure before nodding in approval.

Candy moves behind me
again, placing the mask over my face. The world around me darkens, my vision
reduced to near nothing.

“Ready,” she announces.

“Perfect,” he echoes.

Then, he gestures toward
the door.

“Walk.”

I obey.

The door swings open,
and the moment I step outside, the sounds hit me like a tidal wave.

Screams.

Desperate, terrified
screams.

Cries of anger and
anguish.

I suck in a sharp
breath, my stomach twisting as I take in the scene before me.

A narrow corridor
stretches ahead, lined with other girls—girls just like me. Masks. Handcuffs.
Dresses meant to flaunt rather than cover.

But unlike me, many of
them fight.

They thrash, wailing in
protest, their resistance met with brute force.

Some are dragged along,
their bodies limp as they sob hysterically. Others are hoisted onto men’s
shoulders like sacks of grain, their screams muffled by the chaos around us.

This isn’t real.

This can’t be real.

And yet—

I’m here.

The room feels
suffocating, heavy with the weight of sobs, whispers, and the occasional
outburst of raw desperation.

Blondes, redheads,
brunettes—every hair color, every skin tone. Green, blue, brown, hazel eyes
filled with fear. Some girls are tall, others short, some curvy, some thin.

It doesn’t matter. None
of it matters. We are all here for the same reason.

My God, what is this?

A tall man passes by,
carrying a struggling brunette over his shoulder. She thrashes, kicking and
hitting him with every ounce of strength she has left.

Scarred Man laughs.

“What’s going on? Better
control that stubborn mule before I do.”

A chorus of cruel
laughter erupts.

“I’m trying!” the man
carrying the girl snaps. “She won’t stop moving!”

“Don’t even think about
hitting her,” Scarred Man warns. “You know what happens if they see them with
bruises.”

The man sighs in
frustration before dropping the girl onto the hard floor. She lands with a
painful thud, gasping. He grabs her roughly, yanking her up and forcing her to
walk despite the pain written all over her face.

I feel sick.

“Luckily, you didn’t
need to end up like that,” the man escorting me mutters.

I stop in my tracks and
glare at him before quickly lowering my head in fear.

“Keep walking,” he
orders.

I obey, my pace
quickening despite the unbearable ache in my feet from the heels.

The room I enter is
massive. Girls are everywhere—some sobbing uncontrollably, others furiously
trying to escape, their efforts useless. Some are too exhausted, too broken to
do anything but stare blankly ahead.

“Sit there.”

I let my body collapse
onto one of the cold chairs, scanning my surroundings. The room is dim, lit
only by sparkling lights that seem too beautiful for a place like this.

Through the sea of
weeping, I notice one girl—one girl who doesn’t cry.

The brunette who fought
back.

I swallow hard,
gathering my courage.

“Hey…”

She looks at me,
confused. For a second, I think she’ll ignore me—but then, to my surprise, she
smiles. A warm, genuine smile.

“Hello.”

I exhale.

“I’m Grace, but everyone
calls me Gracie.”

Her smile softens. “Nice
to meet you, Gracie. I’m Sasha.”

Before I can respond, an
older man walks past us. His hair is white-gray, his tuxedo expensive,
pristine. He looks exhausted, yet he grips a small microphone with purpose.

Men surround him,
handing him papers, whispering in his ear. He nods as he scans the sheets, his
gaze flickering toward us.

Then, one of the men
murmurs something to him.

It’s time.

Sasha’s hand grips mine
tightly.

“What is this, Gracie?”
she whispers, voice trembling.

I squeeze her hand
gently, trying to steady her.

“Don’t cry,” I tell her
softly. “Don’t show them weakness. I don’t know what’s happening. I don’t know
why we’re here. But whatever you do, when they take you away—don’t scream,
don’t resist. They will hurt you if you do. And whatever happens… do not run.
If you try, they will kill you.”

“They’ll kill us all
anyway!”

The voice comes from the
redhead beside us.

I turn to her, startled.

Sasha leans closer,
whispering, “She’s in shock. She’s from a small farm—this must be even more
terrifying for her.”

The redhead suddenly
bolts upright, her eyes wild.

“You’ll see! I’ll
escape!” she cries. “God, please have mercy on me! Mom! Dad! I have to get out
of here! Please! I have to escape!”

Sasha’s grip tightens
around my fingers.

“Stop being so
loud—they’re going to shoot you!”

“Hey.”

The voice is sharp,
filled with venom.

“Shut up, you stupid
bitch!”

One of the guards steps
forward, gun drawn.

The entire room erupts
into louder sobs.

Sasha looks at me, her
fear mirroring my own. Without thinking, I take her hand again and give her a
small, reassuring smile.

I don’t know why I do
it. Maybe I just need to believe, for even a second, that there’s still
kindness in the world.

Then, we wait.

Several provocatively
dressed women emerge, trays in hand, carrying glasses filled with alcohol. They
disappear behind a massive curtain.

That means—

My stomach drops.

We are behind a stage.

The room falls into a
tense silence, broken only by the heavy footsteps echoing across the platform.

A voice, smooth and
rehearsed, fills the space.

“Good evening,
gentlemen. Tonight, we present to you a rare collection—beauties from every
corner of the world, each more exquisite than the last. A selection to satisfy
all tastes. Delicate. Fiery. Untouched. Every woman you see before you is a
masterpiece.”

I hear soft cries around
me, barely stifled before they’re silenced by the presence of armed guards.

“As always, transactions
are to be made in cash before departure. Enjoy your evening, and let the
auction begin.”

The first girl is
dragged onto the stage. Then another. And another. Each one put on display,
sold to the highest bidder, and taken away by their new owner.

One by one, they
disappear.

Fewer and fewer remain.
Only Sasha, a redhead who won’t stop praying, and me.

The redhead trembles
violently, her whispered pleas turning into frantic cries. She refuses to
believe this is real. She can’t. I feel sick just watching her.

Then, it’s her turn.

She screams, thrashes,
claws at the men dragging her forward.

“French, nineteen,
ginger, tall, slender… a virgin.”

The bidding starts, but
she doesn’t stop fighting.

Then, chaos.

A shout. A struggle. A
gunshot.

The room falls into a
stunned silence.

Seconds later, they drag
her lifeless body back onto the stage. Blood stains her delicate dress.

Screams erupt around me.
I feel my breath hitch, my pulse hammering in my ears.

Then, suddenly, a hand
clamps onto Sasha’s arm.

“No! Gracie! Gracie,
please!” she cries, her voice shaking with terror.

I grab her hand,
gripping it tightly. “Sasha, don’t resist. Don’t run. Please.”

The guard rips her away
from me, shoving me back into my seat.

“Russian, twenty years
old, brown hair, emerald eyes, tall, slender… and a virgin.”

The bidding is
instant—fast, aggressive. Within moments, she is sold.

The man who won her
steps forward—a tall, imposing figure in a crisp black suit. His expression is
unreadable, hidden behind a mask. Without hesitation, he removes his jacket and
drapes it over her trembling body.

Sasha turns her head,
finding my gaze one last time. She smiles, just barely.

I swallow hard, praying
she’ll be okay.

Then, it continues.

Girl after girl. Sale
after sale.

Until finally…

“Get up.”

The man with the scars
unlocks my handcuffs and nudges me toward the steps.

I obey, moving slowly,
my legs numb beneath me.

At the top, the
announcer extends his hand. I take it. Let him guide me to the center of the
stage.

Blinding light crashes
down on me.

I can’t see past the
glare, but I know they’re there. Watching. Waiting.

Men in tailored suits.
Their faces hidden behind masks. Their glasses filled with expensive liquor.
Their pockets heavy with cash.

The announcer grips my
chin and tilts my face toward the crowd.

“Italian. Twenty-two
years old. Brown hair. Medium height. Thin. Blue eyes. Certified purity.”

He pauses for dramatic
effect, then grins.

“The finest for last.
Let the bidding begin.”

A single tear slips down
my cheek.

For a moment, nothing.

Then—

“One million!” a voice
shouts.

"Three
million!" a voice shouts.

"Five
million!" another counters immediately.

"Six million!"
echoes from a darkened corner of the room.

They throw out these
massive numbers like it's pocket change. My stomach turns.

Then—

"Ten million."

The voice is deep,
smooth, and confident. It comes from the back of the room, younger than the
others.

Silence crashes over the
crowd.

Shit. What is this?!

The auctioneer’s voice
rings out, electrified with excitement.

"A bold move
indeed! Ten million dollars. Do we have any challengers? Going once... going
twice..."

The room holds its
collective breath. The tension is suffocating.

Then—

The gavel slams down.

"Sold! For ten
million dollars!"

Applause erupts, mingled
with murmured curses of disappointment from the losing bidders.

I force myself to stay
composed, swallowing back the lump in my throat. I don’t want to cry. Not in
front of them.

"The new owner may
now claim his purchase!"

I wait.

And then he steps
forward.

Tall. Broad shoulders.
The navy-blue suit fits him perfectly, tailored to his powerful frame. A mask
obscures his face, but I can see his eyes—striking, icy blue. If this were any
other situation, I might even think he was handsome.

He extends his hand.

I hesitate for a second
before taking it. His grip is firm, steady, guiding me carefully down the
stairs. In his other hand, he holds a sleek black briefcase.

Without a word, he leads
me through corridors unlike the ones in the back. These are refined,
elegant—designed for men who conduct their business with luxury and power.

At the entrance, a man
in glasses greets us with a knowing smile, his arms outstretched as if
welcoming an old friend.

My buyer shifts the
briefcase in his grip, and with an almost imperceptible nod, the exchange is
made.

That’s it. The deal is
done.

We step outside. Armed
guards are stationed everywhere, ensuring no one leaves without paying their
price.

My buyer opens the car
door, gesturing for me to get in.

I don’t resist. What
choice do I have?

I slide into the seat,
the interior just as expensive as the man who now owns me.

The door clicks shut
behind me, and moments later, he joins me on the driver's side.

The car purrs to life,
and as we drive away, I finally exhale.

I hadn’t realized I was
crying until I feel the wetness on my cheeks.

I lift a trembling hand,
wiping at the silent tears.

Then, movement catches
my eye.

He removes his mask.

I turn to face him—and
my breath catches.

Dark hair, slicked back.
A strong, defined jawline, dusted with just enough facial hair to add to his
mysterious aura.

And those eyes—those
piercing blue eyes—meet mine.

He smirks, just
slightly.

I feel my chest tighten
with fear as the words slip from my lips before I can stop them.

"Do you own me
now?"

I brace myself for his
answer.

His voice is calm.
Steady.

"No."

I blink, caught off
guard.

Confused, I stare at
him, waiting for an explanation.

He glances at me again,
amusement flickering in his gaze before he adds—

"Your owner is
Frank."

PROLOGUE

Vicenzo

Before her everything was alright. I had everything I wanted, my life was fine.

Everyone adored me, and I liked all the attention I got.

All the men wanted to be me, all the women wanted to fuck me. I had a good company and I was rich, what could I want more?

But I didn't know I was craving something all that time. Or rather someone. I didn't know that until the day I met her.

I'll always remember the day when I met Daisy Sinclair.

How her long legs disappeared under that black dress and how that cute dress hugged her tiny waist. I instantly imaged those legs resting on my shoulders, on every dirty way possible.

She was so pure and kind, not knowing what effect she had on me. She had her beautiful brown hair up in a bun on her head, exposing her delicate neck I wanted to suck on so badly. When her innocent green eyes stared up to mine all I could do was drown in them. She had me captured, wrapped around her little slender fingers without even realizing it.

I couldn't wait to explore that perfectly tanned skin of hers, I wanted to discover every inch of her, take a taste of her. That's when I knew she was what I needed. She was that something that I craved. And I would do everything to get it. She became my addiction, my drug. I couldn't get enough of her. I never will.

Daisy Sinclair is mine, and mine only.

And I will raise hell if anyone dares to touch what's mine.

CHAPTER 1

Daisy

The hot liquid burns my tongue as I take a sip of my tea, reminding me once again that I should always wait before taking a sip and blow on the steaming cup.

The rays of sun hug me, its warmth comforting and relaxing my skin as I lean back.

I've always liked this: peace. Just me and the nature. A place where no one can bother me. In school, you can always find me in the library, hiding in some corner with my nose in the books. My best friend is always complaining about how I should make more friends, instead of closing myself off and 'hide my beauty' as she likes to say it.

But I never listen to her. I'm not changing myself to please her. I like the way I am. Even if I'm hiding that so called pretty body behind books and comfortable clothes, then so be it. I don't like showing off my body, because then I feel like I'm being judged by everyone who looks to me or who even glances my way.

But she loves me either way, even though she doesn't show it very much. And Liam never complained about how I dress or look. I was walking in school when I crashed into him and that he helped me with my books. Slowly we became friends and then he asked me out. He never said anything that I should dress up more or that I should put on some make-up. Because he knows that that's not me. And I don't know why, but I never saw myself as pretty. I always received compliments from everyone but never believed them.

I've always been so insecure and I don't understand why Liam wants me to be his girlfriend but he keeps telling me that I'm beautiful in his eyes.

But I'm still hesitant around him, wondering if his love is real. He can have as many girls he wants that can give him what he actually wants.

Sex.

I'm not ready for it, and he knows that and respects it. And even though he doesn't admit it, I know that he wants a release. But I just feel like it's not the right time to give myself away.

Three soft knocks sound on my door interrupt my thoughts, and when I look up I see my mom entering my room, a big smile on her face.

"Honey, your father and I just received some news," she says and takes a seat next to me. "What is it?" I ask her.

"Well, your father received a message from an old friend of his. He's back in town and asked us out for dinner. Do you still remember a Vincenzo Fossati?" mom asks.

Vincenzo.

I frown, trying to get memories from someone named like that. "No, mom. I don't recall someone named Vincenzo," I say. She nods.

"I'm not surprised. You were still a little child when they were friends. Your father and him were for a long-time business partners, but Vincenzo moved back to Italy to start his own company there," mom exclaims happily. Why is she so happy about this?

"And now he's back in town for some business and he invited us to come over for dinner. Maybe he can offer your dad a deal for work or something," mom says hopefully. Is she happy for this because we're in financial trouble? I'm not supposed to know that but I overheard a conversation between mom and dad. We're not doing that well and they won't allow me to get a job.

"That's great!" I smile. "Yes, indeed it is. So, Vincenzo invited us for dinner tomorrow evening, is that alright?" she asks.

"Of course, mom, why wouldn't it be?" I ask her. She shakes her head.

"Just making sure," she winks and gets up.

"I'll tell your dad that it's okay," she says and closes the door behind her. Closing my book, I take my cup of tea and take a seat by the window and look outside. My hand goes automatically up to my necklace and fiddles with it.

It's silver colored and has a heart-shaped pendant. I got it from my boyfriend for our two months anniversary. That was one month ago. I smile at the memory. He started fumbling with the black box and it fell out of his hands. He was so embarrassed and grabbed it from the ground. His messy blonde hair fell over his eyes when he bent over to grab it.

Since that day I'm always wearing it.

Smiling, I grab the book and open it on the page where I stopped reading. Letting my eyes fall over the words I slowly become absorbed in the story, and the world around me fades away.

Sleepily I open my eyes, annoyed at the one who woke me up. "What?" I snarl.

"Don't use that tone with your mother, Daisy!"

A blush of embarrassment creeps up my neck. "Sorry mom," I mutter and open my eyes scanning around me where I am because I don't remember falling asleep. But it's when I sit upright, I notice the ache in my back. I fell asleep against the window, my books still laying on my lap.

"You fell asleep and I wanted to wake you up to put some night clothing on and go to sleep," mom tells me and starts to walk away. "What time is it?" I ask hoarsely and yawn, stretching my limbs.

"Too late for you to be still up, you're lucky I decided to check up on you before I went to sleep," she mutters and throws me a kiss, before closing the door behind her. Tired I get up and strip out of my clothes, not bothering to put on any pajamas and fall asleep immediately.

I wake up with the smell of pancakes.

Thank God for summer vacation.

Smiling I get up from the bed and see the state I'm in. My naked body greets me in the mirror when I pass it on the way to my closet and my big birthmark on the right side of my belly catches my eyes.

It's not that obvious because it isn't that dark but when you pay close attention you can see it. It's right under my breast, which annoys me. I think it's very unattractive, because who knows, maybe Liam is not going to like it by the time I'm ready to give my virginity to him and he'll cheat on me for a woman who hasn't got a birthmark under her breast and who isn't struggling with her stupid insecurities and...

You're overreacting.

Taking a deep breath, I continue my way to my closet and pull on some sweatpants and a sweatshirt. Not caring to do my hair – which is looking like an incredible mess on my head – I walk downstairs and greet my parents by giving them both a kiss on the cheek.

"Hey honey, slept well?" mom asks me as she lays another pancake on a plate. "Yeah, did you?" I ask her and rub my eyes.

"Yes, I did after I found you lying against the window with your mouth ajar," she chuckles. "Mom," I groan and take a seat at the table. "She's right, you sleep with your mouth open and you drool," dad says from behind his paper.

"Did anyone ask for your opinion?" I ask playfully and turn his direction. "You know better than to go against your mother, Daisy. I just don't want to get on her bad side," he says and shoots me a wink before he looks back down at his paper.

"Hey! I heard that!" mom yells and slaps him on the back of his head with her spatula. I laugh at the sight and wait patiently for my breakfast.

It's not that we live in a big house. We have a tiny, cozy house. We never needed more space than this and we're happy with it.

But lately my parents are careful with the money, not spending it on things that aren't really necessary. I want to help them so badly but they won't allow me to get a job. So, I'm really glad to hear that an old friend of dad is willing to offer us a deal, which means that this is a chance that can help us out of the problems.

A plate being placed in front of my face is what gets me out of my thoughts. "It looks delicious mom," I smile at her. "When does it not look delicious?" she grins and takes a seat next to me.

"So, what time did we agree to meet up with Vincenzo?" mom asks and takes a bite from her pancake. Dad puts his paper next to his plate and also starts eating. I reach up for the whipped cream and blue-berries, and spray some of the whipped cream on my pancakes, while I let some blue-berries fall next to it.

Savoring the sweet taste of pancakes, I continue to eat it till my plate is empty.

"We're supposed to go to his house at seven o'clock in the evening," dad says and takes a gulp of his coffee. "Alright, how is he, by the way?" mom asks.

Dad shrugs. "Good, I think. I only received an email with the question if it's good to have dinner at his place so we can discuss some business," dad answers.

"Is it good if I call Sienna?" I ask them. Two heads turn in my direction. "I mean, I need her help to pick something out to wear tonight," I add quickly. "Of course, honey! You know you never have to ask if she can come over," mom smiles. I nod and put my plate in the sink. "Alright, I'm going to call her then," I say and go upstairs.

After I brushed my teeth, I fish out some clothes out of my closet, not bothering to look what I'm exactly wearing and call my best friend.

"Look who we have here," I hear her voice say as soon as she picks up. I roll my eyes. "Hello to you too, Sienna," I smile and take a seat on my bed. "Why are you bothering me, right now?" she asks. The annoying sound of her chewing gum rings in my ears.

"Uh... well I was wondering if you could come over?" I ask hopefully. "Yeah, sure. I'll be there in twenty minutes, alright?" she asks.

"Yeah, sure."

And after that we say our goodbyes and hang up. I don't know how we got to be friends exactly.

She was new on the primary school I was in and we shared the same class, we were in second grade and we never really talked to each other, but one day when I accidently bumped into her she got her chocolate milk all over her and she gave me the blame.

I started apologizing to her but then she pushed me back and we got into a 'huge' fight. One of the teachers got to us pretty quick and she took us to a classroom, asking us what happened.

And from that day on we started to hate each other, but that changed till one day when she saw me getting bullied by a mean girl because she was making fun of my dress. Sienna stood up for me, her eight-year-old self decided that it wasn't fair that some got bullied and she took matters in her own hands.

That's when we started to hang out together and that's the story of how we became friends.

She's always there for me when I need her and vice versa. With every break-up she goes through, I support her with her so called heartbreak. I mean, I love her to death, I really do, but she gets easily distracted by boys. Too easily.

She always claims that she's 'in love' but she isn't.

How can you love someone that you've only known for a week? I think it's shallow but it's her decision. I got nothing to say.

The doorbell brings me out of my thoughts, and I rush downstairs to open the door for her. "Hi!" I exclaim and throw my arms around her.

"Hi, Daisy," she laughs and hugs me back. I let her in my house and wait for her to put her jacket away. After quickly greeting my parents we go upstairs and she jumps on my bed. "So, why did you call me? Because I know you won't call me if you don't need anything," she says and stares up at the ceiling.

"Well, an old friend of my dad invited us to eat dinner with him and I wondered if you could help me out to pick some clothes?" I ask with a sweet smile. She looks up to me and raises an eyebrow. "Of course! My little girl needs some help?" she grins and stands up. Making her way to my closet I follow her and watch how she opens the door and inspects my clothes.

"Well, you're definitely are going to wear a dress, but the problem is; which one?"

And so, we are searching through my closet for the perfect dress, pulling out different kind of dresses and trying them out. When I come out of the bathroom with a strapless, red dress that reaches till my knees she runs her eyes up and down my body before she shakes her head.

"Nope! Not good, enough. Try another one!" she orders and I go back into the bathroom, changing for what felt like the hundredth time. When I come back with only my bathrobe on I see literally all my clothes scattered around my room while she digs for a dress. Suddenly I hear a loud gasp.

"What? What is it?" I ask worriedly and hurry over to her, looking over her shoulder to see what she has found.

"This is perfect!"

Sighing I look at myself in the mirror. I fumble with my hands in front of myself, criticizing my body. Personally, I think it's too short, but Sienna insisted that I should wear it.

Around my neck I'm wearing the necklace Liam gave me.

My eyes travel to my legs, and I frown. Aren't my legs looking too thick in this dress?

Oh God! Did I gain weight? Am I too fat?

"Don't stare at yourself with that face. The only one who needs to appreciate how beautiful you are is yourself," my mom says from behind me. I turn around and spot her leaning against the doorway with a pair of black heels in her hand.

She looks at me with raised eyebrows. "It's almost time for dinner," she says and walks in my room. I nod. "Thanks mom," I say as I take the heels from her.

"Anytime honey," she winks. I notice the red dress she's wearing, her long black hair cascades down her body and her lips are colored in a bold red. I don't know how she manages to look so young at this age. She turns around and walks away.

"We're leaving in a few," she says before she closes the door behind her. I walk to my mirror and check my face. I apply some lip balm to my lips and put my hair in a loose bun, a few strands of chocolate brown hair escaping and hanging next to my face. I put on the black heels and check my body a one last time.

Could be better, but for tonight it's good.

I see my parents standing in the hallway, waiting for me. Dad has his lightly grey hair combed back and he's wearing a grey suit. "I'm ready," I smile.

They turn to me. Dad smiles and wraps an arm around my shoulder.

"You look beautiful tonight, darling," he smiles and presses a kiss on my forehead. "Yes, you indeed do look wonderful," mom adds. "Thank you," I smile. "Shall we?" dad asks. Together we walk out of our house and step into the car.

When we're all settled we drive away and while mom and dad have a conversation in the front of the car, I hear my phone vibrate and I check to see who it is.

Sienna; Tell me if he's hot ;)

Rolling my eyes, I reply.

Daisy; I will certainly not inform you on his looks. I'm not gonna introduce you to him. I don't want him to have a trauma for the rest of his life

Sienna; Ouch! That was harsh!

I check my other messages and see that I received one from Liam.

Liam; Hey beautiful. What are you doing tonight?

Daisy; I'm going to meet an old friend of my dad with my parents

Liam; Great, I think? If you're bored you can always text me ;)

When I look up from my phone I see we're arriving at a mansion. "Is this...?' I ask but can't even finish my sentence from amazement. "Yes, it is. It's big, isn't it?" my mom asks and turns around in her seat. With open mouth, I nod and look back down to my phone.

Daisy; I know. But we have arrived. I'll text you soon. Love you!

Stepping out of the car the three of us head for the big doors. My heels are clicking against the ground and I'm struggling not to fall.

This is why I hate heels so much.

"I didn't remember he was this wealthy," dad mutters and looks around.

"You better make a deal with him then," mom says and looks up to the mansion. It's too big to live in it alone. "Is he married?" I ask my dad.

He shakes his head. "I don't know but I think he's not."

I nod. It must be really boring to live here by yourself, with no one you can share it with. We walk up to the front door, and dad rings the bell. Patiently we wait for him to walk to the door and open it.

I quickly check my body, to see if there aren't any flaws. I sigh relieved when I see that everything's just in place.

When I look back up it's when someone opens the door.

And when I see who's standing behind it, I have to swallow back a gasp.

A guy is standing behind the door. Wait no, a man is standing behind the door.

And he's the most gorgeous man I've ever seen. My eyes travel up and down his attire. He has a strong, chiseled jaw with a light stubble on it and he has plump lips. His cheekbones are high and sharp and his dark brown hair is combed back with gel. Thick eyebrows are placed above his eyes, and he's tall. Very tall. I think six feet, maybe even taller. He's wearing a suit that shows his muscular body and that sits perfectly around his broad shoulders.

"Vincenzo," my dad greets him. His eyes land on my dad with an amused look.

"Long time no see, good friend," he says and gives my dad a hug.

Oh God, his voice. His voice is deep and velvety, like liquid gold. He has an Italian accent that I want to listen forever to. My dad says something to him and he laughs, it sounds so husky and... xy.

I don't know why but I have the urge to clench my thighs together. My mom steps up and presses a kiss against his cheek. "It's good to see you again, Vincenzo," she smiles.

Vincenzo.

Now that I got a look of him, I realize that that name suits him. It's dark and xy.

"Lilian! It's good to see you too," he says and looks down to her. My mom says something else to him before I realize I also have to introduce myself.

Clearing my throat, I take a step forward. He turns to me, and my breath hitches in my throat.

His dark brown eyes pierce right into mine, and I feel something spark in the pit of my stomach. His eyes are surrounded by thick eyelashes that are running up and down my body. "Daisy?" he questions and looks back into my eyes.

The way my name rolls of his tongue is causing that I almost faint.

"Yes?" I ask, hating how hesitating my voice sounds. I don't want him to think that I'm some shy girl. I want to appear confident in front of him.

"You've grown," he says and stretches his hand. His hand is big and rough. He has long and slender fingers and those knuckles.

I wonder how those fingers would feel when they... Daisy!

Shaking my head to get rid of my thoughts, I wrap my hand around his. When my skin touches him, I feel a tingling sensation go through my spine.

I smell a hint of musky cologne, and when I look up to him I see a hint of a smirk dancing around his lips, but it goes away as soon as it came. I see his eyes scan my body again before he clears his throat and let's go of my hand. I can't help but feel cold as his skin leaves mine.

"Come in! It's good to see you guys again," Mr. Fossati says and motions to his house. We all come in and with my jaw on the floor I look around. In the middle of the hall there's a big staircase that leads upstairs.

It's in the middle of everything and at the bottom of the staircase are two doors. My dad and Mr. Fossati start talking about stuff, but I don't know what they're talking about because I'm hypnotized about his voice. It's so smooth and rich. And that accent... it makes me want to listen to his voice forever. Mr. Fossati leads us to a big dining room with a large table in it. Everything is placed on the table, plates, glasses napkins, etc.

"Take a seat, the food is going to be served real soon," Mr. Fossati says and gestures to the table. Not wanting to ruin anything, I pull out the chair carefully and take a seat. My mom takes a seat next to me, my dad sits in front of her and Mr. Fossati sits in front of me.

"I hope you guys don't mind pasta," he says with a charming smile. I melt right away, in front of him while my mom laughs it off, saying that every kind of food is fine. An old lady comes into the room, with a bottle of wine and water in both of her hands.

"Hello, ladies and gentlemen. I'll be the one serving for you tonight," she smiles politely.

Does he have waitresses? How rich is he?

"What do you prefer? Water or wine?" the lady kindly asks. Everyone asks for a glass of wine, and when the lady approaches me, I kindly refuse it and ask for water.

"Are you sure, my dear?" she asks. "Yes, ma'am. I'm sure," I smile reassuringly. She nods and pours water in my glass. Thanking her, I take a sip of my water and listen to the conversation.

"So, Vincenzo, how are you doing? It's been a long time since we saw each other," my dad says as he puts down his glass.

"I'm doing fine. My company in Italy is going well, and some companies here in America are interested, that's why I came here, actually. It's handy that I have this house here in the U.S," Vincenzo responds smoothly. Dad nods.

"That's great! I'm happy your company is doing well," my dad says genuinely. "Yeah, how are you doing?" Mr. Fossati asks. Dad's face falls, but he covers it up.

"Could've been better. I'm still working hard and trying to make money," dad says and takes a sip of his wine. "I'd like to come back later to that, in my study," Mr. Fossati says and smiles at dad. My eyes stay glued on his mouth and his pearly whites.

Is it legal to be this handsome?

Dad turns to me. "I don't know if you remember Daisy?" dad asks him.

Mr. Fossati's piercing eyes turn to me, and I'm trying to catch my breath because his gaze only takes my breath away.

"Yeah, I do. The last time I was here she was a little child," he says and licks his lips. I smile with my mouth closed and take a sip of my water.

"Yes, she was. But now she's almost a grown-up woman. I'm sad to say that my little girl isn't little anymore," mom smiles and presses a kiss to my cheek. I smile at her. "What are your plans after high-school?" Mr. Fossati asks me.

I blush and swallow, trying to find my voice. Why am I so nervous around him?

"I uh... I'm planning to study English Literature in the university and when I'm done with college I want to work at a publisher," I say shyly, hating how quiet my voice sounds. "Interesting, I'm owner of a publishing office," he says. My eyes widen.

"Really?" I ask amazed. He nods with a tiny smile. "You can always visit my office here in America if you ever want to see what it looks like and if you want to know what's going on there," he offers and raises an eyebrow. I nod excited. "I'm considering it," I smile politely.

He nods and takes another sip of his wine. He returns back to a conversation with my parents, and I start to doze off. Thinking about unimportant things.

I wonder what Sienna is doing at the moment. Probably flirting with some guy she met at a bar. She somehow managed to get a fake ID to get into bars, and I told her it wasn't a good idea, she wouldn't listen. I don't know why we're friends. We're so different, in everything, but we managed to be best friends.

I can already imagine her clothes she's wearing right now at the bar. Probably some strapless, white dress that ends mid-thigh with some high heels. Her lips are probably a bright red and her blonde hair is down. She's beautiful, no wonder that every guy is smitten by her.

I feel a light nudge in my side and I look up, to find everyone at the table staring at me. "What?" I ask confused. Dad chuckles. "I asked; how is Liam?"

Liam!

Instantly my hand goes up to touch the necklace hanging around my neck. Mr. Fossati follows my movement with his eyes. "He's fine," I say and start playing with the heart pendant. "Mind telling me who this Liam is?" Mr. Fossati chuckles amused. I blush. "He's my boyfriend," I say, and I feel somewhat disappointed to say that.

What the heck are you doing, Daisy? He's your boyfriend. You shouldn't stare at this older man!

He nods, and right at that moment the food arrives. The tasty smell of pasta fills my nose, and I realize how hungry I am. "Enjoy your meal," the server smiles before she walks away. I look up into Mr. Fossati's eyes, and he winks.

My breath hitches in my throat, an unknown feeling washing over me. I suddenly feel hot, and I feel like I'm going to faint. With red cheeks, I look down at my food and start digging in.

After our dinner, we moved to the living room, which is very spacious. It has a fireplace and a couple of comfortable looking couches. In the middle between the couches there's a coffee-table. As soon as my eyes land on the wall covered in books I'm sold. I love it.

We're sitting on the couch, talking a little bit, until funnily enough both my mom and dad say that they have to pee.

We laugh and Mr. Fossati tells them instructions to get to the bathroom.

Both my parents stand up and walk away, in search for the bathroom which leaves me and Mr. Fossati alone in the room. I keep glancing at the bookshelves on the other side of the room. "You can take a look, if you want," he chuckles. I look up with red cheeks, embarrassed that he caught me staring.

"Can I?" I ask careful. He nods and stands up, offering me a hand. Hesitatingly I take it, ignoring the electricity that shoots through my body. I get up, and much to my dismay he lets go of me. Together we walk to those big shelves and I look up to them.

"When I'm going to live on my own, I have to have this in my house," I say determined. He chuckles and walks next to me while I explore the books. I see so many names that are so famous and that I love.

"I don't doubt that," he says, and puts a hand between my shoulder blades as he leads us in the room. I try not to let this affect me, but fail miserably. I notice that I want his touch on my body, everywhere.

But you can't. Boyfriend, remember?

I let my fingertips glide over the covers of the books, and enjoy the feeling of it.

"You can always come and visit me if you want some time alone to read," he says next to me, and I feel his hand slide down to my lower back. I turn around with a smile on my face. "Really?" I ask him. He chuckles, and nods.

"Of course, mia cara," he whispers, his accent thick and velvety. I swallow back the lump in my throat and nod. "I'll keep that in mind," I whisper back. His hand leaves my hip and he moves away.

Together, we continue to walk in silence, until we hear my parents coming back. When they enter the room we're already seated on the couch, waiting for them. "I just showed Daisy the books," Mr. Fossati says with a polite smile. "Oh, yeah she loves books. It's incredible how many books that girl can read," mom chuckles.

Blushing, I look down to the ground. "That's nothing to be embarrassed about, little girl. You should be proud that you read so much. Kids this time don't even glance at books," dad says.

Little girl.

I don't know why, but I grow irritated when he calls me that. I never cared that he called me that, but now, in front of Mr. Fossati, I hate the word. I don't want him to think of me as a little girl. He must know that I'm very mature and grown up.

Why, exactly? You got nothing to do with him. And for your information; he's older!

He's indeed older. I guess he's in his thirties, I think of him in a sinful way. He's just an old friend of dad. Nothing more, nothing less.

That's right. Forget about him. Act formal around him.

So when we say our goodbyes, I keep my distance and wave at him, not saying anything else to him. He nods back and watches how we drive away.

When I lay in bed that night I fall asleep with the thought that I should forget about him, that he's just a man that my dad used to know.

CHAPTER 6

Daisy

The sunlight shines through the window and sleepily, I open my eyes and blink a couple of times. A little yawn leaves my mouth, and it's when I want to get up I notice the strong arms wrapped around my waist. Shocked, I turn around, and meet the dark brown eyes of Vincenzo.

"Good morning, tesoro," he whispers. I ignore his deep and husky morning voice.

My eyes widen, and all the events from last night come back rushing into my mind.

"Last night really happened?" I ask him, afraid for the answer. He smirks.

"Yes, bella, it really happened," he says, and places a gentle kiss on my neck.

I push him away, and try to pry his hands off of me. "It can't happen again," I say and look into his eyes. He frowns, and then pouts.

He's so cute.

"Why can't it happen again?" he asks, and his grip becomes stronger on my waist so that I can't take his arms off.

"Because it's so wrong and bad. We aren't supposed to be in this situation," I say and wriggle around. He chuckles and puts his head in my neck.

"Last night you weren't complaining, though," he whispers, and gives me a long lick in my neck. My eyes close, and for a second I let myself enjoy it.

Liam never did this with me.

Liam!

"No, Vincenzo this is either way wrong. You're way too old for me and I have a boyfriend! Oh God, I cheated on him! I cheated on him!" I whisper, and guilt takes over me.

I cheated on my boyfriend. I cheated on the one that I love so much.

He's the perfect boyfriend, and he did never anything wrong. God, I don't deserve him.

"Forget about him, Daisy. He can't give you this," Vincenzo says and his hands slide down, gripping my x.

"He can," I protest. He chuckles and squeezes my x-cheeks.

Just ignore the feeling.

"Maybe he can do the same things as I'm doing, but it won't feel the same," he whispers and slides down, so that his face is on the same length as my chest.

"You want to be effed by a man, not by a stupid boy who knows nothing between the sheets. You want it rough, and I can give you that," he says, and kisses one of my breasts. I gasp and push his head away.

"You're dating Gabriella, you're also cheating," I whisper and look him in the eyes while he stares up at me through those dark lashes. He smirks.

"Gabriella doesn't mean anything to me. We went out one night, that's it," he whispers. I blush. "Doing this isn't smart, Vincenzo."

"Admit it, you want this," he says, and his hands leave my x, only to go up and grope my breasts.

I moan, and he leans down, sucking on my x through the material. A louder moan leaves me, and grip his head, pushing him down on my chest.

"Vincenzo," I bring out and gasp as he slightly bites down on my x.

He lays me down on my back, and climbs on top of me. His mouth leaves my breast, and as soon as the cold air hits my x it feels like I can cut diamonds with it.

"What are you doing?" I ask and look up to him. He smirks down at me, and wets his lips. My eyes follow the movement.

"I'm going to kiss you," he says with a raspy voice, and leans down.

I part my lips, ready to welcome his warm lips. But instead of those plump lips, I feel a wet, slick tongue slide over my lips, and I moan. His tongue parts my lips more, and enters. Vincenzo's lips find mine, and he starts kissing me slowly, while his tongue swirls around mine.

Hesitatingly, I kiss him back, and carefully I let my tongue move against his. He withdraws, and thrusts his tongue back again in my mouth. Our mouths move in sync with each other, and the sound of our lips colliding is so hot. It sends an amazing feeling to the pit of my stomach.

He grabs my thighs and wraps them around his waist.

He groans against my mouth, and my hands bury themselves in his silky hair.

"You got me so hard," he groans. He rolls his hips against mine, and I feel something hard collide with my heat. A strange sound leaves my mouth, and I feel him sink against me again.

My hips meet his, and he grinds into me again. I moan at the feeling.

But the moment is ended by my ringtone. I jump up, and push him off of me and scramble to my phone lying on the nightstand.

It's dad.

"Hello?" I say as soon as I pick up.

"Daisy! How are you?" dad asks from the other side of the phone.

"I'm fine," I answer and rub my eyes. "Good, I'm glad the storm didn't blow you off the road," he says. "Yeah, are the roads still closed?" I ask him, and look outside the window, to see the sky still being clouded.

"I don't know, but I think they are. When are you coming home?"

I look over my shoulder to Vincenzo, and see him looking at me through those thick lashes. The sheets are lying around his waist, showing his V-line and his six-pack. I try not to stare at his happy trail, that leads under the covers to his...

"I don't know," I honestly say with a dry throat. Vincenzo smirks, knowing that I'm drooling over him, and scoots closer to me.

He wraps his arm around my waist, right under my breasts, and presses a kiss on the back of my neck.

"I'd like you to be home before noon, is that alright?" dad asks me.

"Yes, that's good, see you then," I tell him. "Love you."

"Love you too," I say with a smile, and hang up.

"Who was that?" Vincenzo asks against my skin, and continues to press kisses against it. "Dad," I answer and turn around, meeting his eyes that are staring up at me.

"What did he say?"

"That I should be back home before noon," I say breathlessly.

He kisses my neck, my collarbone and then he hooks a finger around the V-neck of the shirt, and pushes it down, so he can kiss the valley between my breasts.

Riiiiiip.

I gasp, and look up to Vincenzo who is responsible for ruining his shirt.

Vincenzo ripped the shirt open, so now he has a clear view over my breasts. My cheeks are red as a tomato, and I cover them, but Vincenzo catches them and holds them next to my head while his hungry eyes stay glued to my breasts.

"Beautiful," he whispers to himself, and leans down. He kisses again the valley between my breasts, then moves to the curve of my breasts and kisses that.

All the while breathy moans are escaping my lips, and I close them, letting myself enjoy the feeling.

I feel a hot breath fanning my x, and he kisses it.

Moaning, I arch my back, pushing my chest up for him.

"Eager, aren't we?" he whispers and kisses my other x.

"Vincenzo," I groan, and push myself up on my elbows.

His hot, wet mouth wraps around my x, and he starts sucking.

I throw my head back, and let the pleasure consume me as he slightly bites down on my x, while he lets his hands roam over my body. His hands slide up my thigh, to my x and he squeezes. "Hmm, Vincenzo," I moan.

He hums against my skin and starts licking my other x, sometimes biting down on it, making me jerk up and let out an embarrassing sound.

"You like this, tesoro?" he whispers huskily against my skin. I moan and nod, closing my eyes in pleasure as he starts sucking hard on my x.

"Words, baby," he says and nibbles on my skin.

"I-I like this," I say breathlessly. And then we get disturbed again by my phone.

"Merda," Vincenzo curses and pushes himself up, both his hands on each side of my head while he looks down at me. I bite my lip and scramble from underneath him, to my phone.

Unlocking my phone, I go to my messages and see Liam has send me a message.

Liam; Hey baby, you wanna hang out today?

I swallow, and look over my shoulder to see Vincenzo raising his eyebrows at me.

"Who is it?" he asks. I hesitate a little before I tell him.

"Liam," I answer honestly. He scoffs before he crawls over to where I am and looks at my phone over my shoulder.

"Tell that figlio di puttana that you're busy," he says and wraps his arms around my waist, and pulls me against his chest.

"But then I would be lying to him," I say and frown. "That's the point, bella," Vincenzo smirks, and pecks my lips. I shouldn't lie to Liam.

You shouldn't be doing this at all.

Vincenzo grasps the phone from my hands and starts typing away.

"Hey! What are you doing?" I ask him and look on the screen while his fingers are working fast on the keyboard.

Daisy; Sorry, can't today. I'm busy, maybe another time

I frown, not liking the message. "That sounds rude," I say and take the phone from him.

He shrugs. "I don't care," Vincenzo says, and brushes my hair off my face.

"I think I'm going to take a shower," I mutter and get off the bed. I wrap the shirt tightly around my body so that he hasn't got a view of my chest.

"Do you mind if I join you?" Vincenzo asks with a naughty smirk. "I actually do," I fire back, and turn around walking to the bathroom.

I'm in a lot of trouble.

“I know you warned me about him-” Ashley interrupted me, her voice filled with a mix of exasperation and concern. “Natalia… are you crazy? How did you let Leonardo back into your life? Every fiber of your being should be screaming ‘stay away!’”I exhaled slowly, my gaze fixed on the swirling patterns in my untouched cup of coffee. “I didn’t choose to let him in,” I murmured. “Every time I feel trapped by the endless rules and suffocating expectations of my dad, his presence— that mix of danger and recklessness, well... it feels like the only way out.”I kept recalling that night—the wild rush of riding under the moonlight, feeling like I could finally breathe, like I was free for the first time. The wind felt like it was carrying me away, whispering promises I wanted to believe. And then there was Leonardo. His eyes locked onto mine, intense and unreadable. But instead of kissing me goodnight, he just… teased me... patted my head. Like he was claiming me or something. It was the weirdest mix of unsettling and weirdly exciting, and I hated how much it stuck with me.Ashley leaned in, her voice softer now. “You know what this means, Natalia. His world isn’t just passion and late-night escapes—it’s messy. Dangerous. Full of people who don’t forgive and don’t forget. The longer you stay, the harder it’ll be to get out.”A shiver ran down my spine. I could still feel the heat of his hands on me, the way his touch burned and thrilled all at once. “I don’t care,” I murmured. “Last night, I wasn’t just the mafia princess doing what she was told—I was free. Just for a little while, I was mine.”I exhaled, gripping the edge of the table. “You don’t get it, Ash.”“Then make me get it,” she shot back, leaning forward.I hesitated, words catching in my throat. How could I explain what I barely understood myself? It wasn’t just Leonardo. It wasn’t just his world. I was discovering parts of me I never knew existed—parts that were more powerful than I could have imagined...I stared past Ashley, past the fogged-up window, my mind slipping back to last night. I've never felt like that before. The wind in my hair. The roar of the bike beneath me. The feeling of being untouchable, unbreakable. I wasn’t Natalia Moretti, the mafia princess bound by duty and expectation. I was just me—reckless, untamed, and entirely free.“I felt alive, Ashley,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. “For one night, at least.”Ashley let out a slow breath, shaking her head. “I honestly don’t know how the hell you’re keeping this from your dad and your brother. But it’s not gonna last, Natalia. Sooner or later, they’re gonna find out.”Ashley let out a long breath, shaking her head. “I get it, Nat. You need more freedom. Your dad’s always been on top of you, but it’s because he cares, you know? He’s scared of losing you, just like I am.” She looked at me seriously. “I don’t wanna lose my friend, Nat. I mean it.”I bit my lip, feeling the weight of her words. “I know. But it’s just— I can’t go back, Ash. I’ve seen what it’s like not to be tied down. I don’t think I can live in this cage anymore.”Ashley raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on her lips. “There’s no way I can convince you, huh?”I shot her a grin. “You know the answer to that.”She let out a laugh, shaking her head. “Alright, fine. I’ll keep your secret. But you gotta promise me you’ll be careful, okay? Think things through. At least give it a couple of days before you jump into anything.”I nodded.Ashley sighed, her tone getting serious again. “Look, we’ve got bigger stuff to worry about. What if your family finds out about what went down with Brittany the other day? Can you imagine the mess that’d cause?”I couldn’t help but smirk. “She probably still feels that slap I gave her.”Ashley snorted, but then noticed my mind was already somewhere else.Ashley snorted, but then noticed I wasn’t really listening. “Hey, Nat? Earth to Natalia.”I blinked, shaking my head like I’d just snapped out of a trance. “Sorry, what?”“You’re totally checked out right now, huh?” she teased. “I was saying we..Before Ashley could finish, the deep, familiar rumble of a motorcycle cut through the quiet café. My stomach flipped.“That sound…” I whispered, a mixture of anticipation and dread coiling in my gut. “It’s him.”I turned toward the window, my breath hitching. The rain blurred the streetlights, but I could see the shape of him, waiting. The headlights cast long shadows.Ashley sighed, already knowing. “He arrived. Tell me you’re not actually thinking about—”But I was already standing up.Ashley’s eyes went wide, and she quickly grabbed my shaking hand to steady it. “Nat, are you sure you’re ready to dive into that kind of danger again? Every time you go after him, you risk everything—your family, your life…”“I have to, Ash,” I said, barely above a whisper. “I can’t just ignore this. Even if it all falls apart, I need to know… I need to feel that freedom.”Right then, my phone buzzed loudly on the table, cutting through the quiet between us. I glanced at the screen and saw a single message pop up: “I’m outside.” A cold knot twisted in my stomach.Ashley squeezed my hand, her voice soft but serious. “Nat, you’re playing with fire. If anyone finds out, it could cost you everything. Don’t forget you promised me you’d be careful.” Her eyes were pleading, begging me to rethink this.I met her worried gaze, the weight of her words fighting with the pull of something I couldn’t ignore. “I know, don’t worry. I will,” I whispered, the words feeling too real to take back.Without saying anything else, I gave her a quick hug and walked out.The wind carried the scent of wet pavement, exhaust, and something sharper, something unmistakably him. My heels splashed through the shallow puddles as I crossed the distance. The steady hum of the engine vibrated through my chest, pulsing in my bones.Leonardo finally lifted his gaze, his eyes dark under the hood of his jacket. His fingers flexed around the handlebars before he reached up and pulled the helmet off his head. The rain caught in his hair, slicking dark strands against his forehead.Neither of us spoke. We couldn’t.He held out the extra helmet. A silent invitation.I should’ve walked away. I should’ve turned around, let the cold seep into my bones until it numbed the heat he sparked in me. I should’ve listened to every warning Ashley gave me, every quiet caution from my dad’s men.But instead, I took the helmet.A ghost of a smile tugged at his lips, like he expected nothing less. He waited until I settled behind him, until my arms circled his waist, until my fingers dug into the fabric of his jacket.Then he kicked up the stand, twisted the throttle, and we were gone.The city blurred around us, streaks of neon and shadows. The rain hit in sharp pinpricks, cold against my skin, but I barely felt it. All I could focus on was him—the flex of muscle beneath me, the heat radiating from his body. Every turn, every sharp lean, pressed me closer.I told myself it was just the rush, the speed, the wildness of it all—but it was more than that. It was him.The bike skidded slightly as we took a hard turn onto a smaller road, a path I didn’t recognize. I stiffened, but Leonardo just let out a low chuckle, his hand gripping my thigh like he was trying to reassure me.Or remind me—this was his game, and I’d already chosen to play.Minutes passed—or maybe more—before he slowed down, pulling into a deserted lot behind an abandoned warehouse. The rain had lessened, the mist curling around us like it was part of the silence.Leonardo killed the engine, and the sudden quiet was almost deafening. My heart was pounding in my chest as he turned to me, his expression unreadable.I opened my mouth to ask where we were—why we were here—but he beat me to it.“You trust me?” His voice was low, barely a murmur over the sound of the rain.A loaded question. One with only one right answer.I swallowed, my fingers still locked around his jacket. “No.”He smirked. “Good.”Then, without another word, he reached for me.Forbidden Redemption: Dark Mafia Romance Series.

he first time I saw Knox Draxler, I didn’t know he’d ruin me—I thought he was just another shadow in the crowd, a man too pretty to be dangerous.I was wrong.It’s late now, past midnight, and Eros is alive—lights pulsing like a heartbeat, the air is thick with sweat and perfume. I’m in the middle of it, my heels clicking on the glossy floor, my hips swaying to the bass that rattles my bones. I’m not the girl I am in daylight anymore—here, I’m someone else, someone who doesn’t flinch when men leer or shout over the music. Tonight’s my third shift this week, and I’m good at this, better than I ever thought I’d be. The tips are piling up, the crowd’s roaring, and I’m riding that high—until I feel it.Him.Knox isn’t loud like the others. He doesn’t need to be. He’s leaning against the bar, a tumbler of something amber dangling from his fingers, his dark jacket hugging his frame like it was stitched onto him. His hair’s a little messy, like he’s run his hands through it one too many times, and his jaw’s set tight, like he’s biting back something he wants to say. But it’s his eyes that get me—those deep, unblinking pools that don’t just watch me dance. They hunt me.I try to ignore him, focusing on the routine—spin, dip, let my hair fan out like a curtain. The guys up front are eating it up, tossing bills at my feet, but my skin prickles every time I catch him in the corner of my vision. He hasn’t moved, hasn’t cheered, hasn’t even smiled. He just stands there, like a predator sizing up its next meal, and I hate how it makes my stomach flip—not with fear, but with something hotter, something I don’t want to name.“Keep it together,” I mutter under my breath, adjusting the strap of my top as I finish the set. The music fades, the crowd claps, and I’m supposed to slip backstage, count my cash, and call it a night. That’s the plan. But as I step off the platform, my eyes flick to him again—stupid, rookie mistake—and he’s not at the bar anymore.He’s closer.Knox weaves through the thinning crowd, his stride is deliberate, like he owns every inch of this place. Maybe he does—I don’t know the details, just whispers about the guy who runs things behind the scenes. My chest tightens as he stops a few feet away, close enough that I can smell the faint spice of his cologne over the club’s haze. Up close, he’s taller than I thought, broader too, and there’s a scar cutting through his left eyebrow that I didn’t notice before. It makes him look sharper, more real.“Dove,” he says, my name rolling off his tongue like he’s tasted it before. His voice is low, gravelly, and it hits me harder than the music ever could.I freeze, clutching the wad of crumpled bills in my hand. “How do you—”“Know you?” He tilts his head, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “I make it my business to know who’s worth watching.”My throat goes dry, and I hate how my pulse kicks up, how my body’s betraying me when I need to stay cool. “I’m just here to dance,” I say, lifting my chin like that’ll make it true. “Nothing else.”His smirk fades, replaced by something darker, hungrier. “That’s what you think.” He steps closer—too close—and I should back up, but my feet won’t move. “You’re not just dancing, little bird. You’re putting on a show for me.”I scoff, trying to laugh it off, but it comes out shaky. “You’re full of yourself.”“Maybe.” He lifts his glass, takes a slow sip, never breaking eye contact. “But I’m not wrong.”The air between us feels charged, like static before a storm, and I can’t tell if I want to slap him or—God help me—find out what happens if I don’t. My fingers tighten around the money, the edges digging into my palm, grounding me. “I’ve got a boyfriend,” I blurt, the words a flimsy shield. “This is just a job.”Knox doesn’t flinch. If anything, his eyes gleam brighter, like I’ve just made it more interesting. “A boyfriend,” he repeats, dragging the word out like it’s a joke. “Does he know you’re here, shaking what’s mine every night?”“Yours?” I snap, heat rushing to my cheeks. “I don’t belong to anyone.”He leans in, too fast for me to react, and before I can pull away, his lips crash against mine—hard, brief, stealing the breath I didn’t know I was holding. It’s over in a heartbeat, but it’s enough to light me up, a jolt that sears through me. I stumble back, my hand flying to my mouth, and I want to shove him, to scream, to wipe that smug look off his face—But I don’t.I just stand there, chest heaving, lips tingling, and the worst part—the part I hate most—is the flicker in my gut whispering I liked it. His taste lingers, smoky and sharp, and his eyes lock on mine, daring me to admit it.“See you tomorrow, Dove,” he murmurs, voice dripping with confidence, before he turns and melts into the crowd—leaving me trembling, alone, and wondering how long I can pretend I didn’t feel that spark.❤️‍🔥 Watch what happens next ❤️‍🔥The Viper's Crown: Full Dark Mafia Romance Series. 3 Books in One !