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CHAPTER 8: The Multibillion Dollar Project
Madel McDonoughHi guys! Hope you enjoy this chapter! Lemme know what you think of the story and the characters so far!
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The Mafia's Lycan Slave CHAPTER 9: Another Agreement
A satisfied grin stretches Mr. Alessandro’s lips, deepening the creases on his face. He then gently bobs his head and says, “Well then, expect your contract days from now.” Before I could react to that, Mr. Davide gets up to his feet with force, creating a screeching noise in between his chair and the floor. Without looking at anyone in particular, he says, “I assume this meeting is now over.” He clutches my wrist, forcing me to raise an eyebrow at him. He then continues, “If there are any additional pieces of information about this meeting, send me a copy through my email. Mackenzie and I have to go.” Without more ado, he pulls me out of my chair. Surprisingly, even if he’s obviously mad, his pull doesn’t hurt me. In fact, he even wraps his arm around my waist while I’m standing up so I won’t lose my balance. Everyone is hushed at his action. They all stare at him with blank faces, as if his rudeness is already an expectation to them. Mr. Davide and I ride back in the elev
The Mafia's Lycan Slave CHAPTER 10: The Unknown
Mr. Davide smirks, then he ironically laughs. “What? Don’t tell me you’ve changed your mind?” he teases. Why would I believe what he said? Well, even if what he said is true, if that’s one of the ways I could get a hold of the pieces of their so-called evidence about my race, then why not? I fix my posture as I try my best to ease my nerves, then I say in the most tantalizing tone I can pull off, “Fine. Do what you gotta do, but make sure you’ll help me do what I gotta do.” The sexiness in his stare doesn’t diffuse, but his smirk does. Not long after, his expression turns serious, he responds, “If you’re that desperate to earn millions, so be it. Focus on your research. I won’t force you to entertain me tonight,” he says as he takes the first bite of his steak. Now he is quite nice again. He’s confusing me! And I hate it! It’s either he has a dual personality disorder or I’m just misreading his personality at all. “I can’t believe that you can be that considerate,” I say.
The Mafia's Lycan Slave CHAPTER 11: The Tip of the Iceberg
Dr. Gustavo presses his outstretched right palm at the center of the steel door’s steel wheel. A loud click echoes, which is followed by the same robotic male voice I heard from earlier that says. “Identity verified!” The dull screeching of the door as it automatically opens incongruously chimes with my rapid heartbeats. The instant the door clouts its secret to me, my composure is disturbed. My heart races a millions times faster while my knees uncontrollably tremble, causing me to almost fall. The scene also demandingly makes my eyes wide and my jaw drops. An unconscious or probably dead gray wolf is submerged in a crystal clear greenish water and is confined in a life-size glass tube. Thick criss-crossed wires are attached to its body and the apparatuses near it. “What on earth…?” I murmur. “Welcome! Welcome!” Dr. Gustavo enthusiastically exclaims while skimming his feet against the floor and towards the glass tube. I stagger when I attempt to step forward. Luckily, Mr.
The Mafia's Lycan Slave CHAPTER 12: A Revelation That Can't Be Revealed
Mr. Davide insinuates his c.ock in front of my wet folds. I’m ready to give myself to him. But then, the sudden image of Alpha Allen crops up in my head. “Oh s.hit!” I blast out. I frantically close the gap of my legs, then push Mr. Davide away. My heart thuds so loud in my ears that they hurt. Hostile air flows through me, making me desperate for a more amiable one. “So what now?” Mr. Davide’s annoyed voice echoes. My mind is so disheveled that paying attention to him isn’t my primary concern. I can’t believe that I almost allowed him to own me! His gorgeous look weakened me! It almost made me forget the real reason why I was here! It almost made me cheat on Alpha Allen! I jolt when Mr. Davide zips his pants up, then I tremble when he hunkers down in front of me. To my surprise, the annoyance in his voice from earlier isn't reflecting in his face. His gray eyes are full of concern while silently asking if I’m okay. He attempts to touch the strands of my hair, but I
The Mafia's Lycan Slave CHAPTER 13: The Surprising Change
I wake up to a savory aroma and a sizzling sound. Despite that, laziness is still trotting in my body that getting out of bed is so difficult to do. My laziness isn’t my only problem, my heavy eyes are too. I haven’t slept long enough to be ready for today. The bedroom assigned to me by Mr. Davide, though way better than my own back home in terms of space and looks, is uncomfortable. But what makes me even more uncomfortable is the unrevealed revelation of Mr. Alessandro and Dr. Gustavo about their ‘most precious proof’. If this proof really exists and they’re hiding it somewhere, then I need to find it before it’s too late. My agony about this proof upends my laziness. I quickly climb down from bed, then wash my face and brush my teeth in the bathroom. I rush to the vanity mirror to fix my hair into a messy bun, then to the cabinet to change into my shirt and jeans. When I’m ready, I walk towards the door, but before my hand could nudge the doorknob, knocks come first. Without t
The Mafia's Lycan Slave CHAPTER 14: Meeting the Applicants
Mr. Davide hands over the copy of his applicant’s resume to me. I wanna ask him ‘why?’, but that would only humiliate him, I mean us, since he introduced me as his secretary. He swings his attention back to the first applicant and says, “Tell me something about yourself.” “Sure!” the fake blonde eagerly says. “I’m Antonette Ruiz, 22 years old and I’m from Baguio City.” She's the same age as me and, though she’s pretty, she looks older than me due to the makeup that’s smothering her face. Antonette continues to prattle on about things I don’t think is necessary for the job, that isn’t really a job. Such as her college degree as a nurse, her dream of seeing her first snow, and her most favorite foods to eat. It makes me wonder if she knows what she’s up to or maybe she’s just like me, who’s unaware of what Mr. Davide is offering to her. Well, I hope it’s the latter and if she finds out what this job is all about, I hope she’s brave enough to refuse it. She has a future ahead o
The Mafia's Lycan Slave CHAPTER 15: Mr. Davide's Reason
I’m glad that after the interviews for the most obnoxious job I’ve ever known, Mr. Davide doesn’t forget what he promised - letting me know the reason why he’s settling for a s.ex slave rather than finding a real girlfriend. Mr Davide stands up from his oversized chair and walks towards the wooden cabinet built on the left wall. I can’t really see anything he’s doing since his broad back is facing me. All I hear are echoes of simultaneous screeching, clattering and clinching. After a short moment, he turns around, carrying a box that’s the size of his palm. He sits down on his chair again, then pushes the box to me and says, “Inside this box is the reason why I don’t do and won’t do the girlfriend thing.” I stare at the box with a prudent hesitation to touch it. “Open it," he says. His permission effortlessly crumbles my hesitation. My hands pull the box closer to me, then remove its lid. Inside the box is a smaller box, which seems to be a ring's box. Underneath that, are p
The Mafia's Lycan Slave CHAPTER 16: Tears
DAVIDE’S POV: Mackenzie’s eyes suddenly well up with tears. She’s really very emotional. Imagine getting affected by my story without having even met my late wife? “I gotta go,” she says, sniffing while drying her tears that are menacing to fall down. She walks away from me, barely having enough strength to thrust her legs. I wanna stop her, but she might lose her control again and end up arguing with me if I do. So I let her leave, and in a few seconds, she’s out of the door. A sigh escapes me when I inadvertently slant my view to my applicants’ resumes still sitting on my desk. Mackenzie has forgotten them and I don’t wanna follow her, especially now that she’s battling her issues with her emotions. Besides, it’s been more than twenty-four hours since the last time I had my time alone. I close my eyes as I recline the back of my head to my chair, while permitting my most horrific memory to haunt me once again. Then, my late wife’s name skates out of me in a murmur, “Dhalia.”
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