My Neighbor's Wife

Chapter 3 2. Zefiro's pov

Word Count: 738 | Released on: 29/01/2025

ulled back by his fist as he rams his dick into her, punishing her, hitting her. Her eyes aren't closed. No, she's gazing out the wind

er, a lustful haze darkening her eyes. And she

nctively hiding my erection. There's no way she sees me. My w

I'm unsure how long I let the downpour drench me. I don't get out until my teeth is clattering and my lips are blu

killed and I have punished myself every day for just as long. It is, after all, the biggest reason I left Mil

r a woman I barely even know. It makes me want to sit in the front pews at the nearest church and beg Dio for damned forgiveness. It ma

ng digits. I have a photographic memory. That made it much more impossible to forget what her folds looked

the first ring."

back and suppress a groan at the burn

round." Two offers actua

arket, Jon. I no l

wfully slow before his low response." You have yet to hear the other offer

Enzo when I let him take my father's seat as heir. I loved it there. Priya loved it there. I intended to sell it when the memories, grief an

t free in my head at the sight of that woman." I don't care, Jon. Take the covers off my damned f

I was a big softie trying to hide behind brutal threats I could

s voice catching." The house w

eased." V

o my car and drive down the street, the entire course of my life s

Chapter End

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My Neighbor's Wife

E_STEVANIA Mafia

“"You're a creepy bastard." His eyes smolder me and his answering grin is nothing short of beautiful. Deadly. "Yet you hunger for me. Tell me, this appetite of yours, does it always tend toward 'creepy bastards'?" **** Widower and ex-boss to the Mafia, Zefiro Della Rocca, has an unhealthy fixation on the woman nextdoor. It began as a coincidence, growing into mere curiosity, and soon, it was an itch he couldn't ignore, like a quick fix of crack for an addict. He didn't know her name, but he knew every inch of her skin, how it flushed when she climaxed, her favourite novel and that every night she contemplated suicide. He didn't want to care, despising his rapt fascination of the woman. She was in love with her abusive husband. She was married, bound by a contract to the Bratva's hitman. She was off-limits. But when Zefiro wanted something, it was with an intensity that bordered on madness. He obsessed, possessed, owned. There'd be bloodshed if he touched her, but the sight of blood always did fascinate him. * When Susanna flees from her husband, she stumbles right into the arms of her devilishly handsome neighbour with a brooding glare. He couldn't stand her, but she needed him, if she was ever going to escape her husband who now wanted her dead. Better the devil you know than the angel you don't. She should have recalled that before hopping into Zefiro's car and letting him whisk her away to Italy. Maybe then, she wouldn't have started an affair with him. He was the only man who touched her right, and the crazy man took no small pains in ensuring he would be the last.”