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Dooming the mafia devil  Novel Cover

Dooming the mafia devil

She was sent to destroy him. A man feared in the shadows, a mafia lord whose name alone commanded power and blood. Serafina Dunes had one mission: send Rapheal Dekoms to hell. Murdered by her husband's mistress, Yuanita Serra was ripped from life before her time-only to be reborn as a missionier, and her first task was to kill Rapheal Dekoms. But fate had other plans. What was meant to be a deadly mission became a dangerous game of desire and hate, where every glance and every touch ignited a fire she couldn't control-and threatened to unravel everything he had ever built.
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Chapter 3

RAPHEAL.

I pushed through the tall frames of the trees, running to wherever my feet carried me. My heart pounded in my chest and my lungs felt so tired. My vision was blurry and stung hard. Given the darkness that eluded the forest, it all felt hopeless. Screeching cries echoed around me, increasing the fright I felt. I looked behind and the figure after me seemed to be advancing further. I've been running for hours but it felt like I was just moving around in corners.

Yet, I kept running.

I couldn't afford to be caught up by the monster behind me.

Another piercing sound caused my toe to hit a big stone. I tumbled on the thorny grass and rolled into a ditch. Cold chilly air kissed my skin as I flew down the pit which seemed to be unending. Instead, it got hotter and cut through me and a shrill cry escaped my throat. A strange sound rang in my eyes and I jolted from my sleep, to the sound of my alarm.

The fear I felt from the dream made goosebumps kiss my damp skin. I took heavy breaths as my eyes darted around in fear and fury. Grazing my fingers in the head board, the lights of my room came on and I breathed a sigh of relief.

This same soul-wrecking nightmare every night.

Grabbing the side table, I flung it to the other side of the room, clattering every single thing on it.

From the sound, one of my maids rushed in, her face laddened in panic.

"Lord Rapheal.." her eyes scanned me slowly. "Are you okay?"

I shot her a glare, ignoring her pity.

"Get out."

"But you don't look okay..." she tried to protest.

Grabbing a wine bottle by the other bedside, I broke it in her direction.

"Get out!!!" my voice thundered at her.

She scurried away before I could even finish, obviously scared for her life.

After trying to derive what my nightmare meant, for the untold time since my wife died, I decided to get on with my day. It's probably because I was yet to move on from her. Peeling out from my free pants, I slipped into a comfy gym wear and headed to the sports room.

What better way to clear your head than to keep your body busy.

My legs moved on the treadmill with swift speed, causing my muscles to flex and relax at intervals. I wiped the sweat that flowed down my body with my face towel, determined to outwork myself if it meant forgetting my bad dreams.

Even though it felt really pointless.

Just then, a lady in her mid forties walked up to me and pushed her tray–chilled bottled water and a glass balanced on it– with a slight bow.

Turning the machine off, I grabbed the water and gulped down immediately, as its coldness calmed my parching throat.

"Your bath has been prepared, Sir." She announced.

I dropped the bottle and strode to the shower to clean up. But while the cold water went down my skin, a warm body pressed behind me, before her arms crossed over to my chest.

"You seem to be stressed, daddy." Her soft voice remarked, gently caressing my bodily hairs with a slimy sickening aura. I grabbed her hands and flung it away.

"I don't like being touched while showering."

Staring at the mirror, I caught her flinch, which she swiftly masked with a seductive smile.

"I only wanted to make you happy."

Slowly, she turned to me and grazed my member on her thigh. Blood surged through my veins and the soft shaft turned to a hard bone.

To me, Bethany was a gross gold. Even if she's not the best I've had, she was very good at what she did.

Gripping her wrist, I wanted to stop her from going further but on second thought, figured I could also give her what she wanted.

It was a mutual feeling, afterall.

Grabbing her neck, I crashed my lips on hers which tasted like whiskey with a blend of vanilla, nearly intoxicating me. I grabbed her soft butts and raised her frame, slamming her onto the tiled wall. A small moan escaped her lips as I spread her legs apart and roughly slipped my hard dick into her.

She felt so tight and arousing, sending tiny sparks of pleasure all over my body. With a firm grip to her waist, I moved in her with needed strength, taking it to a hitting spot. She moaned loudly, as the walls of her pussy contracted on me, and its fluids pooled and trickled down her legs.

"Fuck me daddy!!" She yelled, her grip on my hair hard and needy with her back arched closer to me. Even though my hands were badly cramping from her weight, the pleasure felt too overwhelming. My pace increased, and my sac filled up gradually, which made a groan escape my lips. Faster and faster until I finally felt it at the tip of my dick.

"Suck me!" My voice thundered as I pulled out immediately and slipped into her mouth. She gagged, moving her lips on me with a speed that made my fluids shoot out on her face.

"Thank you, daddy." She chimed with a smile on her face. Ignoring her, I cleaned up myself and walked out, to get ready for the day.

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