The Mafia Lord's Captive✅

Chapter 2

Alessia

"How... how do you know me?" I managed to whisper, my voice trembling, the question hanging in the air like an unspoken promise. There was something inexplicable in the way our gazes had locked, as though an invisible thread connected us, binding me to this enigmatic man who now held my destiny in his hands.

But he didn't answer. Instead, he turned his attention back to his phone and began speaking in rapid Italian, words that slipped through my grasp like elusive whispers. My heart quickened when I heard him mention something about bringing women. I clenched the hem of my dress, my fingers trembling. Perhaps he assumed I couldn't understand Italian. This could be my chance, my only chance.

As the journey stretched on, every minute felt like an eternity. Panic coiled within me as the car continued to speed through unfamiliar territory. We had been driving for more than an hour, and my heart raced with uncertainty.

Suddenly, breaking through the tense silence, the man turned to me and asked a question that sent shivers down my spine. "What is your name?" His voice was calm, but I could sense an underlying intensity, a quiet threat that made me hesitate before responding.

"Alessia," I answered, my voice trembling as I met his intense gaze. He stared at me for a moment that felt like an eternity, and the weight of his scrutiny sent shivers down my spine. This man was far from ordinary, and the tension in the air was palpable.

As the car finally came to a halt, I saw my chance and wasted no time. Without thinking, I jolted for the door and stepped out, driven by the desperation to escape this terrifying situation. But my attempt to flee backfired when I was hauled back by two strong men, their grip strong. I began to wriggle in their hold, my panic mounting as I pleaded with them to release me.

"You've got the wrong person! I don't know who you're looking for, but it's not me!" I pleaded, struggling against the firm grip of the men who held me.

Angelo stepped out of the car approached me with deliberate slowness, his movements sharp and calculated. The slap that followed was swift and sharp, catching me off guard. I gasped at the stinging pain, my cheek throbbing, and tears welled in my eyes.

"Take her inside." He said dangerously.

I kicked my feet and shouted at the top of my lungs, my voice a desperate plea as I continued to struggle against the firm grip of the men who had dragged me inside. "Let me go! I'm here for a paid trip! I can't waste this opportunity!" I pleaded, my words echoing in the dimly lit hallway, but there was no reaction from the man who seemed to hold all the power.

He pushed me toward a room, and before I could react, the heavy door was slammed shut and locked from the outside. I was trapped, alone in this unfamiliar place, with no one to hear my frantic cries.

I refused to give up. I banged my fists against the door, my voice still carrying my protests. "You've got the wrong person! I have no connection to any mafia! Let me out!"

But my words fell on deaf ears. There was no response, no sign that anyone was listening. It was as if I had been swallowed by a void, left to grapple with the terrifying reality of my situation.

I kicked the door in frustration and turned away, pacing back and forth in the dimly lit room. I ran my trembling hand through my hair, trying to make sense of the chaos that had become my life. What was happening? How had I gone from the safety of my hotel room to this unfamiliar house that seemed to belong to a man I couldn't understand?

Deep down, I clung to the hope that he wasn't really a mafia boss, that if I could just explain the situation, he would realize they had made a grave mistake and set me free. But as the minutes ticked by in agonizing silence, my positiveness weakened, replaced by a growing fear of the unknown.