Conquered by the Mafia Boss

Then I think of how beautiful it would look-my body on the snow, a halo of red around my head. The irony makes me smile.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

Everything just feels surreal. These last few months felt like a practical joke. I’m aware that I should be worried for myself. I should race down these frozen streets and ask Tommy for a gun, or hell, just keep running. Something that might give me a fighting chance at survival.

Is it crazy that last night is the only thing I want to think about?

The moment I saw him in the bar, I wanted him. Yeah, he’s just another bad boy-a wise guy who’s going to chew me up and spit me out, just like Rafael did. At least he had the decency to be honest with me. You can’t say that about most men. Usually they ignore you because they don’t even think you’re worthy of dealing with.

I didn’t care, though. It was instant fire through my veins, the moment I locked eyes with him. He had an amazing body-ripped, and he used it like a pro. He wanted me to get off. He enjoyed it.

Beyond that, I didn’t really think it through. I thought that if I went home with him, at least I’d be safe for one night.

What a crazy night. My face burns when I think about how he utterly destroyed all my expectations. He was so fucking good. I felt like I was floating on clouds the whole time, but it wasn’t anything more than a great night. It would always be just one night.

I mull him over, unable to cool the burn that spreads over my skin. I can’t stop thinking about those eyes full of sin and his devilish smile, hinting that he’s nothing but trouble. Tony is the kind of bad boy I always lusted after, until I realized just how bad they really are.

Forget about him.

It would be easier to forget how to breathe.

Why am I lusting after a one-night stand when I have bigger issues?

After taking a chain of subways, I’m back at my apartment. Fear prickles all over my skin as I stare up at it.

He might be waiting for me.

Then I finally turn my phone on and there are about twenty text messages from Rafael. I blow out a frustrated gust of white into the crisp air. He’s either here or not. I’m out of options and it’s hard to care anymore. I could barely get a stranger to let me stay the night, even though there’s a fucking psycho gunning for me.

Maybe this is the punishment I get for being spoiled my whole life, and doing nothing to earn a single dime. I never really achieved anything. I graduated high school by the skin of my teeth and fucked around in college, wasting Daddy’s money as I tried to figure out what I wanted to do with my life. I never figured it out. The next stepping stone was always marriage, and shortly after, kids. It’s what they expected from me. It’s what all good Italian girls did, and I have to admit that I didn’t really mind settling in that role. Why did people always want to make me feel bad for wanting a simple life?This belongs to NôvelDrama.Org.

Rafael seemed like a great candidate. My dad approved of him, which was hard enough to get, and he was Italian. Worked in the same “business” as Dad. It didn’t even occur to me that he would change after we moved in together.

If Dad was alive, I wouldn’t know what to say to him. I can’t even think about him without feeling a mixture of guilt and betrayal. He sold us out, and for what? To get killed anyway.

Maybe I deserve this.

My feet are like lead as I climb up the stone steps. There’s another set of footprints leading to my apartment, but I don’t care. Fuck it all. My mother is a hollow shell and my own sister resents me. There’s just nothing left anymore. Just a bag of money my dear old Dad left for me.

At the top of the stairs, a small voice whispers in my ear.

There’s still time to make something of your life.

Tony’s hands wrap around my waist and his mouth covers mine. I see that wry smile on his lips as I sit on his lap, straddling his legs. Heat rushes to my face as my heart pounds like a drum, vibrating my whole chest.

Isn’t it worth chasing that feeling instead of giving yourself over to that asshole?

Too late.

My hand trembles on the doorknob, and I push it open. I know that it’s already unlocked.

A scene of devastation greets my eyes. Everything standing is tipped over-every chair and stick of furniture. There’s a vase smashed on the floor. The water darkens the hardwood.

“Fuck!”

My face burns as I walk inside, slamming the door. I pick up the phone and immediately dial the emergency number.

“Someone broke into my house.”

I rattle off the address, and then I carry the phone with me. It trembles in my hand as the operator tries to comfort me.

“Miss, you need to get to a safe place. You need to leave the apartment.”

But I can’t fucking leave. All my possessions are here, everything I bought with the thousands of dollars I brought with me. What a fucking jerk. What a loser.

Every drawer is yanked out, its contents spilled on the floor. I whimper as I step inside my bedroom. Every stitch of clothing is ruined, ripped in half, or otherwise flung to the floor in discarded piles. I bend over and touch the blouses I just bought, their colors bleeding together.

“Hello, Elena.”

I whirl around, red in the face and furious. My body bumps into his leather chest and I scream, my heart rate jacked. The murderous look doesn’t faze me.

“Get out of my fucking house!”

I flinch at the noise of leather squeaking as he lifts his hand and touches my face. “I’m not leaving without you and my money.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so.”

“Listen to me, you little twat. You’re going to bring me to wherever the fuck you stashed the money, and then I’m taking you back to where you belong.”

I shove his chest with both hands, and for a moment he looks incredulous. I don’t think he ever believed I would fight back.

“You listen to me. We are done and you are not getting a cent of that money!”

It’s like some kind of bizarre dance. I back away, and he advances. His hip bumps into mine until the backs of my legs hit the bed.

He grabs my face and shoves me backward. My back hits the mattress hard and I try to scramble to my feet, heart racing, but he places his hand on my shoulder and presses down. He’s so strong that he doesn’t have to try very hard.

Fucking asshole.

Rafael lowers his head, the lines under his eyes like dark scars. “You’re coming back to New York with me, right after you give me my money.”

“Never going to fucking happen, you psycho.”

My face screws up in pain before the blow comes, but a soft hand caresses me. I open my eyes in surprise.

“Ah, Elena. I missed this.”

Then a violent force smashes my jaw and stars erupt in my vision. I roll on the wooden floor, my head splitting into two. My skin burns, but nothing compares to the pain of my humiliation. I’m so fucking tired of falling-of just taking it and never saying a word.