Chained By the Italian Mafioso
house. It was a prison, even if it was adorned with the trappings of wealth. I had tried to count the days since I had
d to break.
d mine. The clock on the wall ticked in the background, a reminder of the time slipping aw
ned, and Máximo entered. He didn't
calm, but there was an undercurrent of
on the view outside the window. The sprawling gardens we
r now. I felt him behind me before I saw his reflection in the glas
est. - "Cooperation? That's funny, coming from a
didn't reach his eyes. - "I take what's mi
ot yours
steely expression. He stepped closer,
ecause I allow it. That makes you mine, Suzete
sed to flinch. Instead, I straigh
w to you, you're mistaken. You can take ever
brewing. For a moment, I thought I saw something in his eyes-so
ve you that. But boldne
his steps deliberate. Before leaving
an hour. Wear some
gone, leaving the room cold
-
t wound its way through the streets of the city. Máximo sat beside me, his prese
he car. I stared out the window, watching as people moved about their lives
oing?" - Máximo's voice brok
xpression guarded. -
have been amusement. - "No. But
spond, and
A celebration of sorts. You'll b
uld only imagine what kind of "celebr
if I
dark eyes boring int
ilding. The kind that reeked of power and money. M
no choice. I placed my hand in his, the contact sendi
handeliers hung from the ceiling, and the sound of muted conversations f
m tightened as he guid
ear, his tone low and threatening.
y along. But the fire inside me hadn't dimmed. If anything, it
he owned me, bu
day, I'd
.
ed for him like water, whispers trailing in his wake. It was clear that he wasn't just a man
want to see their faces, didn't want to feel the weight of their assumptions. Th
laughter cutting through the air like knives. One of them turned a
ticed. His eyes flicked to me, lingering for a mome
ightened slightly, a subt
aid, his tone cool and dis
ere was a predatory glint in hi
gain, and I felt exposed under the weight of it.
grip loosened, his hand sliding down to rest lightly at the small of my bac
aid, his voice deceptively calm. -
mock surrender. - "No offense meant, my
f to stay silent. I was a prop in this game, a pawn in Máximo's wo
word. He guided me away from the group, his hand still resti
- he said, his voice low en
pression carefully bla
keep your m
ad of anger, I felt a flicker of satisfaction. He wanted me to
oached with a tray of champagne flute
commanded, his e
my hand. I didn't trust him, di
, his tone amused. - "If I wanted to hur
down my spine. I took a sip, the bubb
against my ear. - "You're doing well t
ite the storm raging inside me. - "I don't
deliberate. It did
e'll
-
ed me to more people, each interaction laced with unspoken power plays and veile
r his control only st
om quieting as the guests left. Máximo led
etween us heavy with unspoken words. I kept my g
ing for him, my head held high. I could feel his eyes
e door behind me with a satisfying click. For the
d to face the
the chair by the window, a
, his voice calm, almost approving. -
chest, but I refused
nt?" - I demanded
s slow and deliberate,
d," - he said, stopping j