The Mafia Billionaire's Obsession

The Mafia Billionaire's Obsession

The Kwin’s Pen

5.0
Comment(s)
153
View
18
Chapters

She was never meant to be seen. He was never meant to fall. Elena Devareux has lived her life in the shadows, cast aside by a family that despises her. Her beauty is a curse, her existence an inconvenience, especially to her elder sister, Victoria, who thrives on being the center of attention. Locked away in the estate, Elena is nothing more than a ghost, a servant in her own home, forgotten by the world. Until the night Dante Russo walks through her family's doors. The infamous mafia king. Feared. Respected. Ruthless. He is a man of power, a man of violence, a man who takes what he wants. And from the moment his piercing gaze collides with Elena's, he knows he wants her. But Elena was forbidden. She was way too innocent for the kind of life he lived. When Elena, desperate to escape her gilded cage, makes a reckless run for freedom, she stumbles into the last man she should ever cross paths with. She runs. He chases. He craves her and doesn't plan on stopping until he makes her his. Not even when she shows up the next day, as his father's new wife.

Chapter 1 Dante Russo

Elena

Elena had never been outside the mansion walls-not once in 20 years.

She wasn't allowed.

Victoria could come and go as she pleased, basking in the attention of their wealthy social circle. Elena, however, was nothing more than a secret locked away-a stain on the perfect life her parents wanted to portray.

But tonight, she was done being invisible.

Her heart slammed against her ribs as she crept through the dimly lit hallway, her breath shallow, ears straining for any sound. The clock in the main hall struck ten, its chimes ringing through the enormous house like a warning.

Hurry.

She tightened her grip on the strap of the small bag slung over her shoulder. It wasn't much-just an old hoodie, a bottle of water, and the small amount of money she'd stolen from Victoria's purse earlier. Enough to get far away.

Her bare feet barely made a sound against the cold marble as she moved toward the back of the house. She knew exactly which door to take-the one leading to the service entrance. It was the only exit with a broken alarm system, something she'd discovered by accident years ago.

If she made it past the gate, she could disappear.

No more locked rooms. No more being a shadow in her own home.

But first, she had to make it out.

She took another step-

"Where do you think you're going?"

Elena's stomach dropped.

Victoria.

She whirled around to see her sister leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, a smirk curving her lips.

Dressed in a silk robe, her golden hair spilling over her shoulders, Victoria looked effortlessly perfect-as always.

Elena, by contrast, was wearing an oversized sweater, her hair tied in a messy knot, and her face free of the makeup her mother forced on Victoria.

But that wasn't what made them different.

Victoria was the daughter they loved.

Elena was the daughter they tolerated.

"Move," Elena said, her voice stronger than she felt.

Victoria's smirk widened. "Oh, Elena." She tsked. "You're actually trying to leave? How cute."

Elena's pulse pounded. "I mean it, Victoria."

Her sister took a slow step closer. "And what exactly do you think you'll do out there, huh? You've never even been to a grocery store. You have no friends, no connections-hell, you don't even have a real education. Mom and Dad made sure of that."

Elena flinched. She's right. But I can't stay here.

She thought.

Victoria leaned in, her voice dropping to a whisper. "You're nothing without this house. No one will want you. And if you run, you'll regret it."

Elena clenched her fists, swallowing the rage boiling inside her. Victoria wanted her to break. To prove she was weak.

But she wasn't weak. Not anymore.

She turned on her heel and bolted.

"Guards!" Victoria's voice rang through the hall. "Stop her!"

Elena sprinted through the kitchen, dodging a startled maid and pushing open the side door. The blast of cool night air hit her like a shock.

Don't stop. Just run.

She kept chanting in her head.

The back gardens stretched before her, dark and vast, the scent of damp roses thick in the air. The mansion's perimeter fence loomed ahead, taller than she remembered, but not impossible to climb.

She just had to reach it.

Elena ran, her lungs burning, heart hammering against her ribs. Twenty feet. Fifteen. Ten.

She leaped, her fingers curling around the iron bars-

A strong arm wrapped around her waist and yanked her backward.

A scream tore from her throat as she struggled, kicking and thrashing. No. No, please! I was so close!

A deep chuckle sent chills through her.

"Now, now, pequeña," a voice murmured in her ear. "That's no way to say hello."

Her body stiffened. That accent. Deep. Amused. Dangerous.

Dante Russo.

Her breath caught in her throat as she twisted to see him. Dark blue eyes. Scarred brow. An expression that sent a shiver down her spine.

He was taller than she imagined, his body solid muscle beneath his crisp black suit. Tattoos curled up his wrists, disappearing beneath the expensive fabric.

He was nothing like the men her parents associated with.

He was worse.

He watched her with a lazy kind of amusement, as if she were a puzzle he had yet to figure out. "Now, tell me, little mouse," he said, tilting his head. "Where were you running off to in such a hurry?"

Elena glared, hating the way his presence unsettled her. "Let me go."

Dante chuckled. "Brave." He loosened his grip but didn't step back. "Most people beg when they see me. You, however..." His gaze flicked over her, taking in her messy hair, the hoodie drowning her frame, the fear flickering behind her defiance. "You're not like the rest of them, are you?"

She swallowed hard, her skin still burning where he'd touched her. "I don't belong here."

Something shifted in his eyes.

"No," he said quietly. "You don't."

A shout rang out from the house. Guards. They were coming.

Elena's stomach twisted. If they found her out here, her father would never let her out of his sight again.

She turned, ready to run again-

Dante caught her wrist.

Her breath hitched as his fingers curled around her skin, firm but not painful. His dark eyes searched hers, something unreadable flickering there.

Then, to her shock, he let go.

"Run," he murmured.

Elena hesitated. Why would he let me go?

"Go, before I change my mind," he added, smirking slightly.

She didn't wait.

She bolted into the night, not daring to look back.

She didn't see the way Dante Russo watched her disappear into the shadows, his smirk fading into something much darker.

She didn't hear him murmur to himself, "Interesting."

And she didn't know, in that moment, that she had just become an obsession.

One he wouldn't let go of.

Continue Reading

You'll also like

The Billionaire's Secret Twins: Her Revenge

The Billionaire's Secret Twins: Her Revenge

Shearwater
4.4

I was four months pregnant, weighing over two hundred pounds, and my heart was failing from experimental treatments forced on me as a child. My doctor looked at me with clinical detachment and told me I was in a death sentence: if I kept the baby, I would die, and if I tried to remove it, I would die. Desperate for a lifeline, I called my father, Francis Acosta, to tell him I was sick and pregnant. I expected a father's love, but all I got was a cold, sharp blade of a voice. "Then do it quietly," he said. "Don't embarrass Candi. Her debutante ball is coming up." He didn't just reject me; he erased me. My trust fund was frozen, and I was told I was no longer an Acosta. My fiancé, Auston, had already discarded me, calling me a "bloated whale" while he looked for a thinner, wealthier replacement. I left New York on a Greyhound bus, weeping into a bag of chips, a broken woman the world considered a mistake. I couldn't understand how my own father could tell me to die "quietly" just to save face for a party. I didn't know why I had been a lab rat for my family’s pharmaceutical ambitions, or how they could sleep at night while I was left to rot in the gray drizzle of the city. Five years later, the doors of JFK International Airport slid open. I stepped onto the marble floor in red-soled stilettos, my body lean, lethal, and carved from years of blood and sweat. I wasn't the "whale" anymore; I was a ghost coming back to haunt them. With my daughter by my side and a medical reputation that terrified the global elite, I was ready to dismantle the Acosta empire piece by piece. "Tell Francis to wash his neck," I whispered to the skyline. "I'm home."

HIS DOE, HIS DAMNATION(An Erotic Billionaire Romance)

HIS DOE, HIS DAMNATION(An Erotic Billionaire Romance)

Viviene
4.9

Trigger/Content Warning: This story contains mature themes and explicit content intended for adult audiences(18+). Reader discretion is advised. It includes elements such as BDSM dynamics, explicit sexual content, toxic family relationships, occasional violence and strong language. This is not a fluffy romance. It is intense, raw and messy, and explores the darker side of desire. ***** "Take off your dress, Meadow." "Why?" "Because your ex is watching," he said, leaning back into his seat. "And I want him to see what he lost." ••••*••••*••••* Meadow Russell was supposed to get married to the love of her life in Vegas. Instead, she walked in on her twin sister riding her fiance. One drink at the bar turned to ten. One drunken mistake turned into reality. And one stranger's offer turned into a contract that she signed with shaking hands and a diamond ring. Alaric Ashford is the devil in a tailored Tom Ford suit. Billionaire CEO, brutal, possessive. A man born into an empire of blood and steel. He also suffers from a neurological condition-he can't feel. Not objects, not pain, not even human touch. Until Meadow touches him, and he feels everything. And now he owns her. On paper and in his bed. She wants him to ruin her. Take what no one else could have. He wants control, obedience... revenge. But what starts as a transaction slowly turns into something Meadow never saw coming. Obsession, secrets that were never meant to surface, and a pain from the past that threatens to break everything. Alaric doesn't share what's his. Not his company. Not his wife. And definitely not his vengeance.

The Billionaire's Cold And Bitter Betrayal

The Billionaire's Cold And Bitter Betrayal

Clara Bennett
5.0

I had just survived a private jet crash, my body a map of violet bruises and my lungs still burning from the smoke. I woke up in a sterile hospital room, gasping for my husband's name, only to realize I was completely alone. While I was bleeding in a ditch, my husband, Adam, was on the news smiling at a ribbon-cutting ceremony. When I tracked him down at the hospital's VIP wing, I didn't find a grieving husband. I found him tenderly cradling his ex-girlfriend, Casie, in his arms, his face lit with a protective warmth he had never shown me as he carried her into the maternity ward. The betrayal went deeper than I could have imagined. Adam admitted the affair started on our third anniversary-the night he claimed he was stuck in London for a merger. Back at the manor, his mother had already filled our planned nursery with pink boutique bags for Casie's "little princess." When I demanded a divorce, Adam didn't flinch. He sneered that I was "gutter trash" from a foster home and that I'd be begging on the streets within a week. To trap me, he froze my bank accounts, cancelled my flight, and even called the police to report me for "theft" of company property. I realized then that I wasn't his partner; I was a charity case he had plucked from obscurity to manage his life. To the Hortons, I was just a servant who happened to sleep in the master bedroom, a "resilient" woman meant to endure his abuse in silence while the whole world laughed at the joke that was my marriage. Adam thought stripping me of his money would make me crawl back to him. He was wrong. I walked into his executive suite during his biggest deal of the year and poured a mug of sludge over his original ten-million-dollar contracts. Then, right in front of his board and his mistress, I stripped off every designer thread he had ever paid for until I was standing in nothing but my own silk camisole. "You can keep the clothes, Adam. They're as hollow as you are." I grabbed my passport, turned my back on his billions, and walked out of that glass tower barefoot, bleeding, and finally free.

Chapters
Read Now
Download Book