Just as Annabeth's hands reached to grab the back of her jacket, Sonya pivoted smoothly, one arm coiling around Annabeth's waist like a whip. There was a sharp gasp-Annabeth's-and then her spine slammed against the edge of the bar, the breath knocked clean from her chest. Sonya's forearm pressed hard across her collarbone, pinning her in place with infuriating ease. "If you wanted my attention, sugar, all you had to do was ask," Sonya murmured, her voice sultry and rough, lips inches from Annabeth's. "Get off me," Annabeth snarled, squirming beneath her hold. Sonya arched a brow, leaning in even closer until her body molded against the younger woman's-thigh to thigh, hip to hip. "You're feistier than the girls next door," she whispered against the shell of Annabeth's ear, her breath hot. "Careful now, Anna. I've always had a thing for resistance." Annabeth jerked against her, face twisting in rage. "Let. Me. Go. You stink of whiskey and whores," she spat, kicking against Sonya's shin. Sonya didn't flinch. "Say please," she drawled, her voice silk and steel, utterly unbothered. "Manners go a long way in this town." "Never," Annabeth hissed.

"Giana, I let you get away with your disrespect long enough. You do not tell me to shut up. Disrespecting a Moltisanti is like disrespecting God." The shorter woman scoffed as best as she could seeing her air supply was being cut off. "Oh, so you think you're a god now?" Lucia twisted their bodies pressing Giana against the wall with a thud. "Con il modo in cui potrei averti in ginocchio implorando pietà." ["With the way, I could have you on your knees begging for mercy."] \\\\ Giana wanted nothing more than to graduate and finally move far away from her father who was the Mayor of Chicago and the public eye. But during winter break, she finds all her plans are put on hold when she's kidnapped and forced to spend the next few months at the Moltisanti Estate. Updates every other day!