Mafia Obsession

Chapter 52



Alicia

I ake with a pounding headache, finding myself in a moving vehicle. There is no light. I hear the engine roaring beneath me, bringing me back to my senses. The memories come rushing toContent © NôvelDrama.Org 2024.

me at once, as I try to sit up.

The hard floor beneath me is cold, and my body is numb. Someone has kidnapped me-I know that for sure. The bindings cutting into my wrists remind me of that fact, along with the gag in my mouth. Not to mention, I’ve got a damn hood over my head.

My breathing is rapid as I try to gain control of the panic flooding me. The dark fabric hood over my head only makes this whole situation ten times worse. I can’t move, and my head is killing me. Then I remember that asshole’s elbow flying toward me. He knocked me out cold.

Who the hell has kidnapped me?

It’s a ballsy fucking move to break into my father’s house and snatch me out of my damn bed the way they did. This is not the first time someone has kidnapped me, but it’s the first time I’ve been attacked in my home. The place is a fortress, and I can’t understand how they got passed security.

These men seemed far more professional than the men who snatched me while I was out with friends two years ago. I’d given Alex the slip, and he’d paid for it. My father knew it was my fault, but Alex accepted the punishment.

The last time I was kidnapped, it was by a drug lord called Justin Leone. He lived in Austin and got too big for his boots. Altogether, he had me for a little over four hours. They were the longest four hours of my life. It was the only time I ever felt real terror.

Once my father got his hands on him, he made sure Justin and the other men behind my kidnapping suffered far more than I did.

Anyone who wants to kidnap me intends to hurt my father, which means they won’t hesitate to harm me. Dad makes enemies all the time as the leader of a powerful crime family. I’ve always been the perfect bargaining chip.

If my dad had any sense, he’d make it known that he doesn’t give two shits about me. Instead, he’s always been a doting father, even in public. It’s something I’m thankful for, but it’s dangerous considering his line of work.

Alex follows me everywhere for my protection, and it got way worse after that night two years ago. The drone of the engine is all that accompanies my thoughts. I feel my head get heavier as I let it rest against the cold, hard metal behind me.

The last thing I should do is sleep, but as that thought crosses my mind, I feel my eyes shutting against their will. I bite down hard on my lip, drawing blood. It’s my only way of attempting to stay conscious. Still, before long, I float away into the black nothingness of my unconscious.

I DRIFT in and out of sleep, for God knows how many hours. The pounding ache between my eyes getting worse, as the effects of dehydration set in. Whoever these men are, they aren’t from Texas.

If they were from Texas, we’d have been at our destination a long time ago. I feel they are from very far away. It means that I’m in more danger than ever.

The constant state of fear tightening like a vice around my heart drains me of what little energy I’ve got left. I hate not knowing who has me.

The bindings around my wrists are so tight they’ve rubbed the skin raw, and it stings like hell. My mouth is as dry as the Sahara Desert, and the gag isn’t helping. It’s impossible to move into another position to get the blood moving.

If this isn’t a disagreement within our own territory, then it means my dad has pissed off another crime family in North America or God forbid, Central America. Despite attempts to detach myself from my father’s business, I know the way it works.

I fall back and forth in and out of consciousness until the vehicle slows to a stop. I hear the muffled sounds of voices before we move again.

The crunch of gravel beneath the tires of the vehicle has me tensing.

We’ve arrived at our destination, which means the terror will start soon.

Being born into this life has made me more desensitized to the violence that comes attached to it.

As a child, I witnessed brutal acts that no one of that age should ever see. Nightmares haunted me every night for years until something inside me changed. The more brutality I was exposed to, the less it affected me.

After a few minutes of driving along gravel, the vehicle comes to a stop. I can hear people getting out and muffled voices. We’ve arrived at our destination. I hold my breath, waiting for them to grab me.

The clack of the door being opened makes the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. I clench my jaw, stealing myself to prepare for what is about to come. A pair of hands grab hold of my shoulders, dragging me out. I try to fight the person, trying to kick them, but I have no strength.

Another pair of arms wrap around my waist, lifting me over someone’s shoulder.

The crunch of gravel beneath heavy boots, and the jolt of him moving twists my stomach with unease. On the one hand, I’m glad I’m about to learn what the fuck is going on. On the other, I’m an anxious mess over what might happen to me.

Are they going to kill me? Torture me? Nothing would surprise me. “I’ve got Alicia,” the man dragging me states.

The thud of footsteps approaching makes me tense. “Very good, set the girl down. I’ll bring her to him when he is ready.”

“Okay, I’ll wait with her.”

His footsteps trail away, as the guy holding me drops me to my feet. It’s impossible to keep my balance, as I wobble, almost crashing to the floor.

The guy grabs hold of me in the nick of time, forcing me back to my feet. “Stand up,” he barks.

Oh jeez, sorry I was just falling to the floor of my own fucking will. I haven’t used my legs in who knows how many hours, and they have kept me cramped in an unnatural position in the back of a vehicle. I shake my head, trying to gain more steadiness on my feet.

The other guy returns, “I’ll take her from here.”

His hand tightens around my arm in a firm grip, and he drags me. I can’t see anything through the thick fabric hood, making this worse. We walk for a few moments before he jerks me to a stop.

I can’t breathe as three knocks echo on a door. My heart is pounding in my ears, making me dizzy. The worst part of this is not knowing who has me. “Come in.” A deep, baritone voice calls from the other side of the door. A voice that sends shivers down my spine.

The click of the door opening heightens my anxiety. The man drags me into the room. “Is there anything else?” he asks.

I wait and listen for the man to say something. I keep waiting, but no one speaks. The sound of the door closing behind me makes me tremble. I hate showing fear, but it’s impossible not to.

What feels like hours of silence tick by, even though it’s only moments.

The man reaches out and grabs the fabric covering my face, ripping it off my head.

I squint at the sudden light flooding my retina. The ache between my eyes increases and I’m blinded by the intensity of light. As my vision returns, my heart pounds against my rib cage.

The man standing so close to me is gorgeous. It’s an odd thing to think the first time I set eyes on my captor, but I almost forget where I am.

His dark eyes are intense, pinning me to the spot and making me forget my name. There’s a long while where he stares into my eyes as if frozen.

When he doesn’t speak, I break the silence first. “Who the fuck are you?” I ask, keeping my voice confident.

He says nothing, turning his back to me and placing some distance between us. When he turns around, his eyes rake down my body in a predatory way.

I let my eyes fall over his body, and the electricity shooting through my veins amplifies. He is not only unearthly handsome but an Adonis of a man. The tailored shirt he is wearing is expensive and hugs every dip and curve of his hard muscles.

The hard planes of his chest are visible over the three buttons undone at the top, making my mouth dry. Both of his sleeves are rolled up, revealing tribal tattoos adorning the bulging muscles on his left arm.

I return my attention to his eyes. They are burning with hot, fiery desire. It makes my stomach clench, and my panties dampen between my thighs. All I’m wearing is my silk slip, and my nipples are hard and visible to him.

How can this man affect me like this?

He has captured me for fuck’s sake. The pure dominance and power that rolls off of him in waves making my knees shake. My palms are sweaty for all the wrong reasons. It’s not fear that is affecting me, as it should be. This man could overpower me with little effort, and for some sick reason, my body is reacting to the idea.

The mere notion of being overpowered by this man-whoever he is- excites me more than scares me.


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