Arabella Malik, the lethal American mob boss's daughter.
The beauty of the nineteen-year-old was well-known. Her hourglass figure and glowing grey eyes-which mirrored her father's, had practically everyone praising the ground she walked on.
Arabella...
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✰ Ａｒａｂｅｌｌａ ✰
"𝐓𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭"
My head ducks down as Nicolo rages another punch. As he misses yet another shot, I grin triumphantly.
I creep around him predatorily, pulling the red gloves in front of my face. "I dare you to try again," I said, smiling.
He chuckles and jerked his head back to clear his sweaty hair from in front of his eyes. "I'm only going easy on you," he said, smirking.
"Stop being so cocky, little brother. It's not a good look on you," I sniggered and shot my upper forearm at him.
He stepped back and launched a foot behind my leg, sending me tumbling to the ground.
He chuckled and pressed his shoe against my stomach, crushing me. I grabbed his foot with my arms and yanked him to the floor.
I squirmed as he landed right on top of me. "Get off me, you hippo!" I shrieked, and he rammed his red glove in my face, groaning as he pushed off me.
"You play so dirty, Jesus!" He huffed.
He was now lying flat on the mat, his cheek pressed against it. I giggled at his position and instantly got up off the ground.
"It's only been an hour, and you're already exhausted," I grumbled as I attempted to lift him off the ground. He groaned and swatted away my glove.
"I'm worn out," He murmured. I snorted and yanked my gloves off my hands. "From what exactly?"
He gave me a sly smirk as he glanced up at me.
Oh no.
"Fucking."
I started gagging immediately, flung my gloves at his head, and stepped over his sprawled body.
"Ew, Nicolo. You're such a male," I spoke as I walked out of the room.
"No shit!" He replied and I rolled my eyes and then had mindlessly stumbled into something. Groaning, hands held me stable and I glanced up quickly.
"Oh, hi," I blushed and stepped back, rubbing my forehead. He let go of my grip and took a step back.
"What are you doing here?" I asked him, pinning my hands on my hips.
I watched as his gaze moved sensually down my body. My breasts, no doubt glistening with sweat—along with the rest of my body—were his eyes lingered along.
He licked his lips and ran his hand through his hair as he returned his gaze to me.
"Talked to your father,"
My brows shot up, and as they did, my father emerged from the shadows, just behind Roman.
He looked at me and nodded towards the stairs beside me.
