Mafia's Wicked Desire

"Come here."

The command cut through the air, sharp and deliberate. Not loud.

My legs moved before my brain caught up, hesitant, shaky steps pulling me closer until I stood between his knees.

Then, without breaking eye contact, he lifted his gun.

The barrel pressed to my thigh, cold as ice, and I gasped, every nerve in my body sparking alive. The metal slid higher, tracing the hem of my dress, teasing the edge of my lingerie. Goosebumps erupted across my skin, not only from fear, but from the unbearable awareness of his control.

"You tremble so beautifully," he murmured, the Russian lilt thickening his words. The barrel nudged higher, heat sparking where there should only be fear. "Does it scare you, котёнок?" (Kitten)

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Harper Quinn had one simple goal: chill in her pajamas, binge Netflix, and avoid people. Instead, she loses a dumb bet and finds herself in a nightclub... with the Russian mafia. Now, the city's most dangerous man, Roman Sokolov-handsome, terrifying, and oddly obsessed with calling her "Kitten"-claims her as his property.

One wrong move, and she could end up dead. One sarcastic comment, and she might just survive... if she's lucky.

Sassy, terrified, and armed only with her wit (and a very judgmental cat), Harper's about to discover that surviving the mafia isn't just about staying alive-it's about keeping her dignity intact... somehow.

"He calls me 'Kitten.' I call him a psycho. Guess we're even?"

Warning: Contains mafia-level danger, terrifyingly hot villains, and one very stubborn girl who refuses to be anyone's "Kitten."

> Warning: This story isn't for the faint of heart. Expect intense drama, sarcasm, embarassing moments romance, and content meant for adults.
Read at your own risk!