Owned by the mafia boss

MIA

He got me.

My life was over.

“Mia, let’s go.” A voice with a graveled edge yanked me to reality, which was Alessio’s hands, his mouth, his body. All of him would become mine.

I was already his.

I faced a heather-gray shirt that stuck to a broad chest. My gaze skipped over his Adam’s apple and landed on his face. Rain misted his short beard and gave his skin a pearlescent sheen. That combined with his cold-bitten cheeks made it look as though he’d just finished a jog. Heat came off him in waves. I stepped away from the sauna, but he dragged me closer. A sneer curled the perfect lips that had once kissed my sister.

“If you try to escape, I have zip ties and a trunk.”

Horror colder than the brisk wind engulfed my body.

“Nod to show you understand. I’ve had a long night.”

“I get it.”

His giant palms wrapped my shoulders. My bag’s straps slid off, the heavy weight lifting as he unburdened me. Then he grabbed my waist, urging me toward the parked BMW. The driver exited and opened the passenger’s side door.

“Go.”

The younger man shot into the darkness at Alessio’s command, which meant I would be alone with Alessio as he meted out whatever justice he found appropriate. The hand touching me had already maimed so many people.

What was one woman to this killer?

I dug in my heels. Alessio doubled the pressure on my head. I lunged, nailing a hard abdomen. The bag dropped as we struggled. He balled my wrists and yanked. A scream tore my throat. He pinned me to his body as he snapped plastic around me.

“Don’t struggle.” He traced the binding, his touch feather light, soothing, and at odds with what he’d just done. “You’ll make it worse.”

“Take it off!”

He covered my mouth, muffling my yells. I fought viciously as he packed me into the car, but without my hands I couldn’t do anything but contort my body. My back hit the cushions. Alessio pushed me deeper inside as though wrangling young women was the most normal thing in the world.

“See you soon.”

“Wait! Five minutes! Give me that, and I’ll be quiet. I swear.”

He hesitated.

Seconds ticked by, his mute appraisal growing into something that made me wish I’d stayed silent. Dripping, Alessio slid onto the backseat. He tossed my bag onto the floor. The leather groaned with his weight. He slammed the door and raked his hair. He watched me with a slight curl of his lips.

Play it cool.

Pleading wouldn’t get me anywhere. Callous men like Alessio equaled begging with foreplay.

“I-I came here to break it off.”

“Liar. You disappeared for hours. We’ve been looking everywhere.” Alessio’s gaze narrowed to malevolent slits. “Your steady dick was the last place I expected. Lesson learned.”

“You’re angry.” I wetted my lips as blood rushed into my head. “I understand, but don’t take it out on David. He doesn’t deserve to die.”

Alessio said nothing, his silence filling the car with an ugly foreboding interrupted only by the gentle plinking of rain. He shook his sleeve back and checked his watch.

“I ran from the house after you took off. I had to escape, but I didn’t know what to do. So I went underground and rode the metro. I was there for ages.” I waited for Alessio to acknowledge me, but he stared at his wrist as though counting down the seconds. “Read my ticket. The timestamp is right there. It’s in my jeans.”

I rolled my hips, inviting him to check. Slowly, he delved into my pocket. His fingers teased my thigh as he fished out the stub.

Glaring, he held it under his nose.

“See? I must’ve left twenty minutes ago. I’ve been riding the subway the whole time because I knew you’d visit all the stations and my best option was to stay there. I came here because I was desperate. Out of options. Nowhere to go. You made me run, and I thought he’d help me.”

“And did he?”

My throat tightened. “No.”

He flicked the card to the floor, indicating that it didn’t matter-heartless son of a bitch. Killing David was clearly of no consequence to him.

“He didn’t touch me. Do you think I’d be in the mood after last night?”

Alessio looked unconvinced.

“It was twenty minutes!”

“That mook only needs five. The concern over your fuck-buddy is precious. I’m sure he appreciates your devotion when he’s describing your tits to his friends.”

“I’m not concerned, I’m just-he doesn’t deserve this!”

When he slid across the seats, my pulse jackknifed. Alessio bent over me, so close I could’ve counted his lashes. He had such beautiful eyes-swirls of caramel and honey mingled with an espresso. A rich depth swam in them.

“Are you in love with him?”

“No. Of course not.”

Alessio said nothing. He stared.

I tried to meet the intensity head-on, but my hands were bound. I couldn’t defend myself. Dealing with Alessio leached my strength, leaving me powerless and overwhelmed. Alessio seemed to decide as he straightened. Reaching over me, he opened the window and shouted into the rain.

“John, let’s go!”

I blew a sigh, not knowing which was the bigger relief-escaping his touch or the fact that I’d convinced him. My triumph smoldered to ashes when the car started. The sudden jolt pitched me forward, but Alessio stabilized me with a hand on my thigh. Then he pulled me down. I collapsed, head in his lap. His arm draped over me, anchoring me to him.

My mouth grazed his thigh as I turned, humiliated by my position. Which was probably his intention.

Sick bastard.

“Jesus, this weather. Have we ever had a more miserable November?”

I glanced up, a retort caught in my chest, but he was talking to the fucking driver, who bantered with Alessio the whole way. Both of them ignored the third human being in the backseat. Maybe it was another mind game to teach me how little I mattered.

All it did was piss me off.

Alessio chuckled at something John said, and met my seething gaze. A smile still played on his lips as though to ask, why are you upset?

A searing heat flushed my neck and face before I returned the smirk.

You can’t degrade me more than yourself, asshole.

No matter what, I wouldn’t break.

ALESSIO’S HOME was a mansion west of Boston, surrounded by acres of parklands and gardens. All brick, classic Georgian Revival, with a tiered entrance court above the rear lawn. It had eight bedrooms, a private courtyard with a fountain, stone patios and porches, a wood-paneled library, a sunroom with plants and patio furniture, a gym, and a massive garage.

Carmela had gushed about Alessio’s home. She’d told me all about the gorgeous crown moldings and intricate wooden detail. Focusing on the property was better than dwelling on the fact I was zip-tied.

If I could reach my phone.

Dad would move hell and earth to save me, but he didn’t stand a chance against Alessio. I couldn’t call him. Snitching on Alessio wasn’t an option, either. And I wasn’t winning any fights.

What could I do?

Escape.

All I had to do was keep quiet until things settled down. He had no idea about the Toyota with Oregon plates, and the extra ten thousand I’d wired into a separate savings account. If I framed my flight as a knee-jerk reaction, he’d forgive me. I’d apologize, play along with his bullshit games, and act like the perfect fiancée. It’d take time, but he would lower his guard.

Then I’d escape.

A wicked tension headache slammed me as I considered what would be involved. Planning the wedding? Lavishing him with attention? Warming his bed?

When I couldn’t tolerate the suspense any longer, wheels crunched the driveway, which looped to a home whose outdoor lights illuminated gorgeous landscaping. Shadows played on the brick. We parked, and the engine cut off.

Alessio left the car. After he exchanged words with the driver, he helped me out.

“Come.”

At Alessio’s gentle urging, I moved forward. He opened the wrought-iron gate, ushering me toward the red door. A blast of warmth engulfed my body as I stepped into a vibrant foyer. The blinding whiteness of the walls surprised me, as did the six large black-and-white photos right above his console table. In one, a vivacious woman hugged a much younger Alessio. His sister? More framed pictures crowded the mahogany. Small details jumped out, hinting that they were all members of his family.

My fear staggered as he pulled me away from the portraits and guided me upstairs. I wound up like a spring as we reached the first landing. He palmed the French doors. They swung into a carpeted bedroom with a king-sized bed. The sight of it set me on high alert.

He removed his jacket with aching slowness and tossed it onto a chair, his shirt still sprinkled with damp spots. Without the blazer, his bare arms took center stage. So big, compared to David’s. Everything about Alessio was harsh. His skin rougher. His features more angular.

Men like him just wanted their ego stroked. If I gushed about his strength and dwelled on how insignificant and stupid I was by comparison, he’d tone down the aggression. Before I opened my mouth, I glimpsed something that chilled my blood.

A knife in Alessio’s grip. He started forward. My heart seized when he clutched my forearms. A sharp edge pressed into my palm. I swallowed a scream as a firm pressure scraped against plastic. The bonds snapped, and the tension holding my wrists disappeared.

I stared at my freed hands.

Alessio stowed the blade in his nightstand, bleeding indifference as he pushed me onto the mattress. I jumped when he threw my bag at my feet.

“Open it,” he barked.

“W-what for?”

“Do what I say.”

I wasn’t thrilled with exposing my neck to Alessio, but I bent to grab the bag. I unzipped the backpack as Alessio hovered.

“Take out everything.”

Nausea swirled in my gut as I laid it all out on the bed. He swiped the brick of cash from me and flipped through the bills.

“Five grand. Who gave you this?” Alessio’s voice turned sour when I didn’t answer. “Tell me, or I’ll visit David.”

“It’s mine. Saved up from holidays and-and whatever my dad gave me.”

That was a lie. I’d skimmed from my father’s many businesses for years to prepare for my escape, but Alessio probably thought I was a high-maintenance brat.

“Why not deposit it?”

“Dad-Dad always said that there’s nothing better than cash on hand.”

“For criminals, not law-abiding citizens. What’s this?”

He grabbed photos of the redwood forest in Northern California. I could see his bewilderment growing as he shuffled through pieces I’d stuck on my vision board.

“Running away to the forest?”

“They’re vacation spots.” Asshole. “My plan was to bus across the States.”

That wasn’t a complete falsehood. I’d planned a big road trip with a used car I’d secretly bought.

“Where did you want to go?”

“The Great Plains, Grand Canyon, up the Californian coast.”

I wanted to lounge on beaches, ride cable cars in San Francisco, and then disappear in Portland, which was as far from the East Coast as I could get.

Well out of Alessio’s reach.

When I escaped, I would change my name, enroll in college, and date men whose last names didn’t end in a vowel. I’d work at a business that wasn’t owned by my father. Volunteer at more at-risk youth organizations to help kids before they became Davids.

I would be free.

“A vacation, huh? Life as a boss’ daughter must be tough.”

His cavalier tone twisted a knife in my rib cage.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

The fatigue was getting to me, wearing me down. My skull throbbed as though a spike hammered my brain.

He wouldn’t understand.

He didn’t care.

I met his glare, determined to suck it up and lie, but I couldn’t wade above the sadness for another second. The way he’d tossed my photos aside, as though they were meaningless, clenched the fist holding my heart.

“I didn’t just want a break. I had to escape.”

His brows rose. “Go on.”

“My sister went missing. Mom and Dad are a mess. I was beside myself with grief. It was horrible, but I couldn’t leave them after she died. So I put my plans on the back burner.”

“Until me.”

“The last straw.”

“Why leave?”

His voice was softer than velvet, and that somehow made it worse. I shook my head. I barely held in the despair.

“You don’t give a shit.”

“Get it out. I’ll listen.” Alessio sat next to me, his thigh pressing mine. He touched my cheek, the silky caress knocking David’s heavy petting out of the stratosphere.

“You’ll mock me.”

“I won’t.”

What the hell was he doing?

Trying to gain my trust?Nôvel/Dr(a)ma.Org - Content owner.

When I didn’t speak, his arm slid across my back. It tightened around my body and anchored at my hip. Then he dragged me like I weighed nothing. My legs glided over his lap, and suddenly, I was pinned to his blissfully warm chest.

“What are you doing?”

“Just relax.” His voice boomed through me. “Relax.”

Years of constant vigilance had wired me to expect anything, but everything about him felt good. The hand stroking my hair. His protective arms. The swells of his breathing. His hot skin. I wanted to close my eyes and sink into the bottomless pleasure. Even weirder was the impulse screaming to hold him.

“Tell me.”

And then it burst from my lips.

“I hate it here. I can’t stand the violence, and I’m sick of funerals. It’s one tragedy after another. My sister was murdered, and my dad will probably be killed. That’s all my life has ever been, and I deserve something better. I wanted to be like everyone else. Free. So you can threaten me all you want. I don’t care anymore because I’ve lost the only thing that matters.”

“You haven’t.”

I sank into the crook of his shoulder as I shook with silent sobs. It was as though a puppeteer had cut the strings controlling my limbs. I sagged into him, returning the embrace. God, I’d needed this. I dug into his muscled back, and tried not to make his shirt a wet mess.

Falling apart in a stranger’s arms was so embarrassing. Especially when said stranger abducted me from the street and was rumored to be among Boston’s most ruthless mobsters. Alessio held me like it was the first of many times. His touch whispered across my collar and kneaded my shoulders.

“You’re exhausted. You need to sleep.”

He yanked the comforter and tucked me in.

When he pulled away, I clung to his shirt.

“Don’t go.”

I didn’t know how I got here-from fighting to begging-in minutes.

Alessio hesitated.

I couldn’t see much of him in the dark, but the little of him I made out was pensive. Brow furrowed, he removed his shoes and dove into the sheets. The mattress groaned, and his body touched mine. He rolled me onto his chest.

“Sleep.”

He wiped a strand of hair from my eyes and hooked it behind my ear. When his hand glided to my jaw, I turned my head to feel more of him. Alessio obliged, cupping my cheek. The tension headache lifted, filling me with drowsy ecstasy.

I sighed.

His mouth twitched into a smile, and it was a real one, nothing like the jaded smirks he usually threw at me.

“Sleep.”

His velvet-soft voice was like a spell as I sprawled on him, sinking further into oblivion.