Sold to the Mafia king
His eyes returned to me-slow, assessing. Then, without warning, his hands shot up and clamped around my throat.
I gasped, instinctively clawing at his arms. He didn't move. "Disobey me again," he said, voice low, stripped of warmth, "and we won't be counting next time."
Even shaking, I lifted my chin. "Then don't mistake silence for obedience," I said hoarsely.
Carlino's voice followed-calm, absolute, as if nothing had happened. "Lock her floor tonight."
That was when it settled. There was no mercy here. No exaggeration. Every word, every threat-he meant them.
He wasn't pretending to be the devil. He simply didn't bother hiding it.
---
She hates him.
He refuses to let himself want her.
Lina Gray never thought love would betray her. Until the man she trusted, traded her life to pay his debts. Delivered into the hands of Carlino Lacentra, the Mafia king whose name ends conversations. Lina is stripped of choice and crowned Donna to secure a throne she never asked for. In his world, power is law, loyalty is currency, and a woman beside the king is never just a woman.
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Chapter 2
Lina's POV
"You brought her here for a debt?"
A voice broke through the darkness-cold, steady, unfamiliar. I wasn't fully conscious yet, but the sound sliced through the fog in my head like a blade. My eyes were blindfolded. My mouth was sealed with tape. My hands were pinned behind me.
I couldn't see. I couldn't speak. All I could do was listen.
"It's... not what you think, Boss. I had no choice." The second voice trembled, a familiar tremble I couldn't place yet. "The enforcers said it was either I repay the debt and walk away... or they kill me. I had no choice but to use her as leverage. They asked for someone expendable, Boss."
"And she was expendable enough?" The first voice replied with a calmness too controlled to be real. That kind of calm only existed before storms-or executions.
"I... I thought it was the only way," the second voice stuttered. "Everything I touch ruins me. The enforcers don't forgive."
"So she's worth your life, huh?" The words cut through the air, sharp and offended, as if the excuse itself disgusted him.
"I didn't plan any of this, Boss."
"You should've planned before running to my money lenders for a loan." His voice stayed low. Steady. Unmoved. "I don't care. Rules are rules. Laws are laws. You break them, you pay dearly."
My heart slammed violently against the tape over my mouth.
Are they talking about me?
The second voice, why did it sound like someone I should recognize?
"She's mine now," the first man said, final. "Cross me again, and what you'll pay next won't be debt."
"T-thank you, Boss." Relief poured from the second man's voice, heavy enough to choke the room. A door slammed moments later, echoing like a gunshot. That was when panic tore the air from my lungs.
I didn't even realize I was thrashing until my body jerked violently against whatever I was tied to.
Was I... sold? Traded? Used to clear someone's debt like an object?
"Hmph-!" I tried to scream. The tape swallowed the sound.
"This one belongs to me," the first man said again, as if stamping ownership into the air. "Put her in one of the cellars. Give her what she request for until I decide when I'm coming for her. Understood?"
"Roger that, Padrone." The title landed like a blow.
Padrone.
No one used that name lightly in the underworld.
This is real.
I jerked again-harder this time-and suddenly fingers gripped my jaw. The tape was ripped from my mouth in one brutal motion. Fire shot across my skin, sharp and burning, before fading too quickly. Then the blindfold came off.
Light attacked my vision. I blinked rapidly, my eyes burning until shapes slowly came into focus.
A warehouse. Wide. Shadowed. Alive. This place wasn't abandoned. It was being used.
Someone was walking away from me. Tall. Broad shoulders. Thick black hair. I only saw his back, but authority radiated from the way he moved. He didn't rush. Didn't hesitate. Every step belonged to him.
"Wait-please." My voice broke. "Please let me go. I beg you."
He didn't turn. Didn't pause. Didn't even acknowledge that I existed in that environment.
Hands grabbed my arms, dragging me forward with effortless force. My feet stumbled against the floor as they pulled me toward what they called a cellar.
My mind spiraled.
Who would do this to me? I had never harmed anyone. I didn't know gamblers. I didn't know criminals. I barely even argued with people.
Yet here I was-sold like a bargaining chip to a man whose face I hadn't even seen. What if he's a butcher? A trafficker? A murderer?
The monsters in my head multiplied with every step.
The men dragging me didn't help. They didn't speak. They didn't look at me. Black from head to toe-uniformed. Intentional. I'd seen this before.
Ruciano's street. That day. The masked men. The chase.
These men moved the same way. Dressed the same way. Silent. Loyal. My breath hitched.
Whatever world they belonged to-I had just been dragged into it. And there was no waking up from this. The ropes bit into my wrists as they tightened their grip on my arms. My chest felt unbearably heavy, like my heart was being crushed into something too small to hold it.
"Please..." My voice cracked. "What's happening? I didn't do anything wrong. Please just let me go. I swear-I won't tell anyone. Please..."
Silence.
Thick. Stubborn. Suffocating.
They didn't even spare me a glance. No reaction, no hesitation-just cold bodies escorting me deeper into whatever nightmare I'd stumbled into.
"Are you deaf?" The frustration burst out of me, rough and sharp. "Answer me!" My breath sped up with every step. I twisted my wrist, yanking against their grip, but their hands were clamps-unmoving, merciless.
Still no response.
The hallway was dimly lit, shadows stretching across the walls as if guiding us somewhere I didn't want to see. One man walked ahead. The other stayed behind me, close enough that I could feel his presence pressing in.
We descended a long flight of stairs. The air grew colder with every step.
Just two days ago, my life was normal. Quiet. Uneventful. I kept to myself. I avoided trouble. I didn't owe anyone. I didn't hurt anyone.
Now... I didn't even have the strength to fight. Or argue. Or scream. My voice trembled. My body felt hollowed out, exhausted by fear alone.
We stopped.
A huge metallic door loomed in front of us-intimidating, industrial, humming faintly with security. A door like that wasn't meant for storage.
It was meant to keep something in. The cellar.
The man in front punched in a passcode.
A cellar with a passcode? The heavy lock clicked. The door groaned open. The room beyond was dim, its edges swallowed by shadows. One man stepped inside first and reached for a switch. Harsh lights flickered to life-cold, unforgiving. The space was bare. Too bare.
They loosened the ropes around my wrists. Before I could react, they dragged me down another set of stairs. The moment my feet touched the concrete floor, freezing air swept over me, wrapping around my skin like icy fingers.
I turned slowly, forcing myself to look. A metal table sat at the far end of the room. Tools rested on top-tools I didn't want to identify.
And right in the center... A drain.
A drain.
The meaning of it settled deep in my bones.
The men left without a word. The heavy door slammed shut behind them, the sound echoing violently through the space.
Sealed. Locked. Hidden.
Escape was impossible-not with a passageway that required a code, not with a place designed to keep someone trapped.
Why was this happening to me? I'd already lost my job. Then I was abducted. Now I was being tossed into a cellar like livestock sold to the highest bidder. My legs gave out. I stumbled to the far corner, curling into the shadows. Tears spilled before I could stop them-hot, silent, relentless.
~~~
The sound of the lock snapped me awake. My eyes flew open as the door unlocked again. A figure stepped inside.
Tall. Broad. Muscular.
Even his silhouette radiated dominance. He walked down the stairs slowly, deliberately-each step measured, as if he wanted me to feel him before I saw him.
Cold. Controlled. Mean.
He hadn't reached the light yet, but everything about him screamed danger.
"Please..." My voice trembled as I pushed myself backward, my palms scraping the floor. "Just let me go. I haven't harmed anyone. I didn't-"
His footsteps halted, stopping him in track.
"Princess." The way he said it-slow, mocking-made the word feel filthy. "You're already mine," he said calmly. "You belong here. With me."
A pause.
"Make peace with your little demons about not having anyone to run home to. Not even your pretty family. I'm sure they'll find someone else to fix their problems." Every word dripped with sarcasm.
And possession.
I lifted my chin despite the fear burning my chest. "You don't get to decide that."
Silence.
Then he stepped fully into the flickering light.
My breath vanished. The shadows peeled away from his face, and everything snapped into place-the authority, the tone, the threat.
The director. How is that even possible?
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8.7
Alessia Marino is a regular nanny until she is hired to care for the Mafia King's children.
Enzo Rossi is the stunningly attractive King of Mafia, but his ex-wife cheated on him. He would have murdered her, but he does not want his children to know he killed their mother.
He has no time for children, and every nanny that comes along tries to cling to him rather than the children; this is his final straw, and maybe his second love.
What if they become entangled in a love that refuses to end?
8.9
Isabella Romano is the neglected princess of her family, casted away unknowingly by her father, she has lived with her mother all her life, seeking some fatherly love but she learnt to stop caring. Now after a reckless night she finds herself tangled in the sheets of a man she was told to always hate. Vladimir Volkov. A man far more scary that what she has been told, he is not just the boogeyman he is the one you send to kill the boogeyman. Imagine her shock when she finds out she hasn't just gotten the attention of The Russian Don but is also carrying his child
Follow the hate to love relationship of isabella and Vladimir and watch how they navigate their life in his dark world that he dragged her to, making her and his unborn child a target to the new arising enemy that aims to destroy both the Italians and the Russians.
9.3
She's sin wrapped in a nun habit.
He is the devil who makes her want to confess.
Luciano Moretti, the mafia's most feared enforcer, kills without hesitation, prays to no god, and bleeds for the Cosa Nostra.
Sister Elizabeth has spent her life behind church walls, burying her desires under layers of penance and prayer. She is supposed to be untouchable-a quiet, secluded nun devoted to faith.
But when she finds him bleeding on the altar one night, their worlds collide in a sin neither heaven nor hell can cleanse.
He's meant to marry her sister to seal a deal between two mafia empires.
She's meant to keep her vows and distance.
But temptation has a cruel sense of humour...
Because he's the last man she should want.
She's the only woman he can't have.
But one touch, one look, and everything sacred begins to crumble.
Luciano does not seek salvation. Instead, he lures her into a dangerous path, one that includes everything she is meant to avoid, and everytime she whispers "forgive me, Father," her soul sinks deeper into him.
As bloodlines clash and loyalty turns to betrayal, Elizabeth learns that the war outside the chapel isn't the only one she must survive. Because Luciano's world is built on violence and secrets, one of which binds her fate to his in ways neither of them saw coming.
Desire clashes with devotion.
Duty turns to betrayal.
And when they're both drowning in a love so forbidden, not even God can save them.
7.7
My husband, Hudson Higgins, used my dowry to buy his way into the Chicago underworld while his family treated me like a servant in my own home. I endured their insults for the sake of my five-year-old daughter, Josie.
But then, the unthinkable happened. I found Josie's small, lifeless body by the garden fountain, while my sister-in-law Karly and mother-in-law Eleanor stood by, complaining about their party plans.
"She was just too naughty," Karly sneered, adjusting her pearls over my dead child.
When I turned to Hudson for help, he looked at me with dead eyes and told me it was just her fate. In that moment of absolute grief, I remembered the words of the ruthless Don Damien Falcone: "Your husband is a man who knows how to close a deal."
The truth sliced through me like a blade. Hudson hadn't just ignored the Don's interest in me; he had actively sold me to the Devil of Chicago to buy his seat at the table. He let his family punish me for the very sin he committed.
I had lost everything-my dignity, my mother, and now my baby-all sacrificed for a man who traded his wife's body for power. The sorrow in my chest evaporated, replaced by a scorching, blinding thirst for a blood vendetta.
After lunging at Hudson and feeling the world explode into white, I opened my eyes to find myself back in the winter of 1928. It was the exact night the nightmare began, and Don Damien Falcone was walking toward me in his penthouse.
This time, I won't be the broken bird in his gilded cage. If Hudson wants to use me to climb the ranks, I will use the Don's dark obsession to burn the Higgins family to the ground.
8.9
I spent five years protecting Grafton Mcleod, the ruthless King of Chicago. Not because I loved him, but because I swore a blood oath to his dying brother to keep him alive.
On the day my contract ended, I placed my resignation on his desk.
Grafton didn't just refuse it; he laughed.
"You don't resign, Cayla. You belong to me."
He thought I was a jealous, obsessed assistant in love with him. He let his cruel fiancée, Cherrelle, torment me daily.
He forced me to drain my own blood to save her after she faked an accident.
He threw me into a freezing fountain when she lied about me pushing her.
But the final straw came when he dragged me to a syndicate gala. He didn't take me as a guest. He put me on stage, in a silk dress and a collar, and sold me to his enemy for five million dollars.
"This is what happens to property that misbehaves," he sneered as the gavel came down.
I escaped that night, but I didn't run away. I drove to the bridge where his brother died.
I left my phone on the railing and let the icy water take me, finally free of my debt.
It was only when Grafton stood on that bridge, holding my cracked phone, that he learned the truth.
He unlocked it and saw my wallpaper. It wasn't him. It was his dead brother.
And the diary inside revealed that the woman he was about to marry was the one who had ordered the hit that killed him.
7.1
"You broke the first rule, Princess. That means I get to take something from you. I'll start with this," he said, tugging at my panties and a needy throb ran straight through my core.
"Kyren, don't," I tried but it was to no avail.
He roughly pulled at the flimsy material, covering my most intimate part. The sound of lace ripping, filled the room. And the cool air from the AC bit into my exposed skin.
His hands slid up my back. He unclasped my bra with ease and it soundlessly dropped to the floor. His gaze raked over my trembling form with a satisfied hunger.
"You're not a cheerleader tonight. You're just mine. And I'm going to spend the next few hours showing you exactly what happens when you break my rules," he stated, before pushing my legs wide open with his knee.
××
Hailey thought she could handle the "Ice King." She thought she could seduce him, win the bet, and walk away with her heart intact. But Kyren sees right through her games. He doesn't want her seduction, he wants her submission.
As the lines between a dare and reality blur, Hailey finds herself trapped between her father's expectations and a man who wants to claim every inch of her. In a game where the rules keep changing, Hailey is about to learn that the Ice King doesn't just freeze people out... he burns them down.