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MAFIA LORD LOVER 51
FaustI often dreamed of blood.I laugh at it, filling my mouth and choking me. Drowning myself and everyone I cared about, with no hope of survival.The dreams began when I was a soldier, still being groomed under my father's watchful eye. Back then, the boss's son didn't get a pass on the most gruesome tasks. No, they used these tasks to harden me, to transform me from a boy into a man.A man capable of leading the most dangerous mafia in the world. A'Ndrangheta. There was no choice for me, no other life to consider. Over the years, I followed instructions and never dared to show a hint of weakness. Torture and killing became second nature to me, a job I learned to love. This earned me the respect of my brothers'ndrina and the fear of my enemies. Whispers followed me wherever I went, stories of my cruelty spread far and wide.This made my father proud.He told me this many times, especially after seeing me at my worst. They called him when I was too anxious with my knife, the blo
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Faust9 I rubbed my eyes behind my glasses. The words on the screen were fuzzy, my body too tired to concentrate.Sighing, I picked up my Campari and tonic. I had started drinking in the early afternoon, a habit that Marco disliked immensely, but which I found necessary to ease the pain inside my chest. The last two nights I fell into bed in a drunken stupor and passed out for a few hours.It was an improvement over weeks of sleepless nights.Marco was sitting in the corner on his phone, pretending to ignore me while actually watching me closely. He wasn't fooling me.I read the numbers on the screen again, wanting to prove that I was still on top of my empire. — Toni just made us more than two million euros by selling a technology share.Marco grunted.— Maybe we don't need D'Agostino for this computer idea.He did not answer.I drummed my fingers on the table and took a sip of my drink. When I drank, my thoughts often returned to her, even when I tried to avoid it.She made a fool
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This tour was boring.No one spoke after the call with Fausto ended. Enzo seemed lost in thought and Mariella was looking at her phone. I focused on not vomiting, which seemed like a real possibility with each passing minute.I had to get out of this car.—Can we stop? I need to use the bathroom.Enzo asked Mariella if she wanted to stop, and the other woman shrugged without taking her eyes off her cell phone. He met my eyes in the rearview mirror. — I'm going to stop at the side of the road. There are bushes and trees.—Fuck this. A real bathroom with a real toilet or I swear, I'll ruin the leather upholstery on this car.He looked at me, then made a call. Whoever was on the phone called him Don D'Agostino, so I assumed it was someone who worked for Enzo. Strange that he didn't travel with the level of security and paranoia that plagued other mob bosses. Was this confidence or stupidity?When we finally stopped at a gas station, two black SUVs were parked there. Four men got out of e
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FrancescaClean and modern, Enzo's beach house was the opposite of the castle. The property stretched along the Gulf of Naples, each room offering a magnificent view of the water and Vesuvius. Mariella lived here, while Enzo's wife and children were elsewhere, and he had the luxury of coming and going, the cheating bastard.Even though Enzo was barely around, his guards were always present, as was Mariella, which meant I was never alone, and I was exhausted. I spent most of my time wondering if this was the day I would be tortured or raped in revenge against Faust. Or worse, the day Enzo realized I was of no use to him and put a bullet in my brain.I barely slept. I ate to keep my stomach at peace, but I worried that every bite of food was poisoned. Every noise made me jump, and my nerves felt stretched to the breaking point. How much more of this could I take? How much longer until they realized I was pregnant with Faust's baby? What would happen then?The possibilities were too terr
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FaustI knew something was wrong as soon as Giulio, Marco and five of my men crowded into my office on the yacht. We had anchored off the coast of Naples, not far from Enzo's beach house.“Papà,” Giulio said in his most reasonable tone. — You should sit down.Marco grimaced, knowing me well enough to understand how this happened. No one told me to calm down or sit down. I was the boss of this 'ndrina, the capo, and I could never show weakness. “Tell me,” I snapped, remaining on my feet.“A message arrived from D'Agostino,” Marco said. - Is bad.I appreciated his frankness, but my gut clenched all the same. What had D'Agostino done to her? If he had hurt her, I would bomb the entire Gulf of Naples, skull-fuck her corpse, and then go after his wife and children. - Show me.Giulio handed me the phone and I froze. My glorious girl wason his knees, his face covered in tears as a Glock was shoved into his mouth. Enzo trapped her, ropes crossing her body, under her breasts, and I could see
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FrancescaEnzo stayed for dinner.I tried to hide in my room, but they sent me out to the courtyard to eat with Enzo, Mariella and six of their men. The outdoor space was softly lit and lined with beautiful, fragrant flowers. Gentle waves crashed onto the beach in a calming, rhythmic sound. The setting would have been romantic under any other circumstances, but I couldn't appreciate it. I picked at my spaghetti, aware that everyone was surreptitiously watching me. Was the food poisoned? Were they all waiting for me to eat and then pass out at the table?Mariella tried to keep the conversation going, but Enzo's men were not interested in talking, remaining silent, and Enzo gave her one or two word answers. Finally, he looked at me. —Don't you like pasta, Frankie?"— I'm just waiting for the poison to take effect.—Now, why would we poison you? You are much more valuable alive than dead. — He pointed to my plate. — Take a bite.— I'm allergic to shellfish. - It was a lie. I loved seafoo
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FrancescaEnzo pulled me closer and started moving back. — I didn't lose anything. I still have your puttanella . I'm going to kill her.Fausto advanced, with the gun pointed at Enzo. — You die anyway.— Put your gun down or I'll shoot her. Now. Cum! — Enzo shook me, his arm around my throat, and I choked.Something flashed across Fausto's face at the sound, but he didn't take the gun away from Enzo. - I do not think. You will let her go.— Wrong, I'll keep it. I think I'll let you watch while I kill you.- March! — Fausto shouted, his voice echoing in the large space.Marco entered the door, but he was not alone. He had a wife and two small children with him. Their mouths were covered with tape, hands tied, eyes wide with fear. It looked like everyone had been pulled out of their beds, with the children still in their pajamas. Marco's gun was pointed at the children.Enzo stood perfectly still behind me. His voice was low and angry as he said slowly, “You dare kidnap my family?My st
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FaustI saw her pretend to sleep next to me on the plane. She thought I wouldn't noticethe racing pulse at the base of your throat? Clearly she was awake, but I let her have it. She was upset enough. It would take time to win her over again.But I would. What she and I had together was too strong, too wild to deny.Did Enzo hurt her? I had no idea how she suffered at the hands of my enemy, except for the picture of her on her knees, a damn gun in her mouth. D'Agostino would pay for this a thousand times over before I broke up with him. Was there anything else? I needed to find out what happened during his captivity – not just to punish Enzo, but to offer him support and comfort.I examined her as best I could, but saw no bruises or cuts. No welts or broken bones. Maybe the damage is where I can't see it. My blood ran cold at the thought. Did Enzo rape her? Or harmed my child in some way?“Stop looking at me,” she murmured. - It is scary. And stop moving. I'm trying to sleep.— Cazzat
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