Strong-willed, badass and bounded by the chains of an arranged marriage, Isabela Arias dreams of the freedom to live and love as she chooses.
Being sold to the Italian mafia wasn't exactly on Isabela's to do list...
As she's forced to navigate the r...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"Eliminador? What the fuck is that?"
Lorenzo cracks open a beer bottle, spilling the excess onto the limo's floor. He shrugs, chugging the drink as if someone is about to take it away from him. I think he's ecstatic about not having to drive us around all night.
"Well, it's something my family created years ago to keep things 'fair'. Technically, Jefe is decided by bloodline, like how my brother became Jefe when my dad fell ill, but to have an equal chance, we can challenge the Jefe to be," I explain, failing at pushing my earring through my piercing.
Lorenzo tosses the bottle across the limo and scoots closer to me on the leather seat, grabbing my earring from my hand. "So, why must you challenge him if it's your birthright?" I hiss as he pops my hole, forcing the earring in. "Sorry, Bella-boo. I think your piercing closed."
"It's okay." My face scrunches up with pain as he alternates to my other ear. "I lost my birthright to it when Romeo took my place. It's his now. If I want it back, I'll have to challenge him."
Lorenzo leans on the leather seat, unbuttoning his collared shirt, and reveals a glimpse of his tan, toned abdominals. Heat rushes up my neck and cheeks. I'm seeing too much of Lorenzo than I would've liked.
"Fuck," Lorenzo groans. "I think I'm growing a beer belly. What do you think?"
I clear my throat. "I think you should be worried."
Lorenzo hums. "Goddammit! Why do I gotta love beer so much?"
Refusing to stroke his ego, I grab the champagne bottle from the metal ice bucket and apply pressure on the cork. Why isn't it opening? They're usually so easy.
Lorenzo smirks. "Do you need any help?"
"No. No. I'm perfectly capable of opening this bottle." I grit my teeth, altering the bottom of the bottle to press against my stomach and squeezing the head.
The cork tilts to the side, thrusting out of the bottle along with half of its liquid. Champagne soaks Lorenzo's entire shirt. He bobs his head, sporting an egotistical smirk on his lips as he shakes the excess off his fingers.
He brushes his fingers through his hair. "Thank god, our luggage is in the trunk." Lorenzo leaves very little to the imagination when he slips out of his shirt, draping it over his shoulder. Black ink cover every inch of his abdomen-- a serpent snake in the middle and his right shoulder, a hand with a sword on his left shoulder, a skull with black wings on his neck, the word 'love' by his heart, a flower with the label mom on the opposing side, and a pistol with a red rose on his stomach.
His nipple fucking piercings spark in the multi-color lighting.
Lorenzo clears his throat. "Bella-boo, my eyes are up here." He uses his thumb and pointer finger to hold my chin and tip it upward. "Do you like what you see?"
