The Mafia Lord’s Captive
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isbelief. Italy. I was actually in Italy, and what's more, the trip wasn't putting a dent in my bank account. Winning this all-expenses-paid journey was a dream come true, even if Italy wasn't
, I swiped to answer, holding the phone to my ear. "Hey Mom," I greeted, my voice a mix of excitement and fatigue. "I've arrive
llow. Slipping my phone back into my jeans pocket, I took a deep breath, savoring the moment. The thought of sharing m
ashed over me. Thankfully, Italian was one of the languages I had learned along with French and Spanish. I responded in kind, providing the addr
ng the events that had led to this incredible opportunity. My role as an event planner at the prestigious international event managemen
, from the elegant decor to the flawless execution of the runway show, had been planned and executed. The moment the event conclude
gazed out of the taxi's window at the unfamiliar streets, I felt a sense of overwhelming happiness. It wasn't just
I could have imagined. A five-star, if not seven-star, establishment greeted me, oozing luxury from every corner. As I walked toward
ith intricate designs and a level of luxury that left me momentarily speechless. It was as though I had stepp
with a warm smile. "Good evening, ma'am. How may I assist you?
"Hi there. I'm Alessia Marino. I belie
given to me for my journey. My gaze shifted from the receptionist's hands to the elegant lobb
ace. "Ah, yes, Ms. Marino. Just one moment, please." She turned her attention to
tched her work. This was it, the beginning of a new adventur
Marino. Everything is in order. One of our staff members will be with you sho
owing with each passing se
hough I had walked into a realm of pure luxury. The grandeur of the space was beyond anything I had e
awe and disbelief. A king-sized bed that seemed fit for royalty beckoned to me, and without a second thought, I crashed onto it, my fin
oughtful touches that surrounded me. The window view, the elegant seatin
the journey seemed to melt away at the prospect of indulging in a hot shower. I was just about
abbed a bathrobe and draped it around me before walk
ds trailed off as a cloth was suddenly pressed against my mouth, and a strange smell invaded my senses.
was the sensation of falling into a pit of darkness, my
y head as I struggled to make sense of my surroundings. The first thing I noticed was the sea of unfami
scent of something unfamiliar hung in the air. Panic knott
old floor. Confusion and fear surged within me. What was happening? How did
rd the crowd. "Ten million," someone called out, the words echoing around
ice chimed in, each bid like
e announced, and then the bid
, a voice that held a dangerous edge pierc
t, I met his gaze. Dark, penetrating eyes locked onto mine, sending an icy shiver down my spine
eaker's voice cut through, announcing the outcome of the bid. "And the bid for today goes to the renowned Mafia lord, Angelo Santoro," He proclaimed, and
he stage. Panic flared within me, and I struggled against the strong hold of the man in the suit, my voic
d fear swirled together. The rush of cold air hit me as we stepped outside, sending a shiver down
stutter in my chest. His gaze pierced through me, an intensity that seemed to see right through my defenses. My mind raced to piece together
s reached me, a low, velvet-laden voic