Bought by the Mafioso (Tropical Wolves)

Prologue

“He could conquer empires with a single word, but her gaze left him utterly defenseless.”

Lorenzo

I’m irritated. That’s exactly how I feel as I drive through city streets that are nothing but constant chaos. I don’t know why I even have Marco or pay him so well, since when it comes to important decisions, he won’t do a thing without me there.

I stop at a red light that looks like it’s going to take forever to change. I glance around and notice two young women selling flowers, both wearing dresses with colorful prints that match the blooms in their hands.

They’re young and look a lot alike—dark hair, slim waists, wider hips. The one who looks older has curves that could drive any man crazy, the kind that make you want to lose yourself in them.

Suddenly she turns and looks at my car. I nearly lose my breath—those eyes, so beautiful, dark, deep, and mysterious. I don’t know what it is, but I can’t stop staring. She stares right back, her full lips moving as if she’s about to smile, or something—I can’t quite read her.

I hear a chorus of angry honking and only then realize the light has changed and I’m blocking traffic. I pull away slowly, her eyes following me. What was that? Who is this woman?

I arrive at the club feeling lighter somehow. Those bewitching eyes seem to have melted away my stress and tension. One of the club employees approaches me.

“Hello, Mr. Lorenzo. Marco is waiting for you in the office.”

“Okay.” I nod and head that way.

I walk in and immediately see Marco looking anguished, eyes wide, pacing back and forth, wringing his hands so hard his knuckles have gone white. He’s biting his lip, impatient.

“Thank God you’re here,” he says the moment I walk in.

“Yeah, I’m here. Since you can’t handle anything on your own.”

“But Lorenzo, I can’t handle this one alone. The guy lost everything at roulette, doesn’t have the money to pay, and wants to settle up in a rather... unusual way.” He seems to hesitate before speaking.

“How does he want to pay?”

“With his daughter.” He just blurts it out.

“What?” I’m stunned. This is shocking even for me—and I’m a mobster.

“Exactly—how am I supposed to decide this on my own? And he owes our rivals too. Apparently, if we don’t take the girl, he’s going to offer her to them.”

“I can’t believe this. Why do people gamble until they reach this point?”

“Well, isn’t that the whole point of a casino?”

“No, Marco. The point of a casino is for people to gamble knowing they need to control themselves. This is for people who have money. How do you gamble when you don’t have any?”

“Addiction hits all social classes, my friend. So what do we do?”

“How much does he owe?”

“Around five hundred thousand reais.”

I press my lips together. I can’t just forgive the debt, but how can I buy a girl? And for what purpose? I’m ruthless and I do illegal things, but not to people—especially not innocent ones.

“Is there any other way for him to pay?”

“Dying.”

“What bothers me is that the Mancinnis will use the girl for prostitution,” I say, thinking it through.

“Then you’ll have to buy her. From what I understand, the girl’s a virgin—she’d be a goldmine for them to auction off,” Marco says bluntly.

“I can’t let that happen. I don’t know the girl, but I have a sister too, and I won’t let them do that to this young woman. Is the old man here?”

“Yes. Want me to bring him in?”

“Yes.”

Soon the man stands before me, eyes downcast, hands fidgeting.

“So, you want to sell us your daughter?”

“They’re the only assets I have—the two girls.”

“Do they know you throw your money away gambling?”

“More or less.”

“And what are you going to tell them?” I press.

“The truth.”

I shake my head.

“Well then, you idiot.” I stare at the man. “How can we resolve this without resorting to something this extreme?”

He stares at me, desperate.

“My daughter is beautiful, sir. Young and a virgin. You’ll like her. See for yourself...” The old man is practically begging.

He reaches into his pocket, pulls out a phone, and holds up a photo on the screen. I push it away.

“I don’t want to see that. Aren’t you afraid of what could happen to your daughter?” I stand up so fast I nearly knock over my chair.

“I have no other way to pay this debt,” the wretch whispers, his voice barely audible.

I sigh, swallow hard.

“How old are they?”

“Nineteen and fourteen.”

“Hmm, well, I might accept your proposal, but on one condition.” Marco looks at me, completely confused. “You will never set foot in this casino or any other again. Gambling is for people who have money. If you don’t have it, don’t bet.”

“Okay.”

“And one more thing—you’ll have to find a way to pay the Mancinnis, whatever it takes, but it won’t be with your underage daughter.”

“All right.”

“What’s your name?” I demand, anger in my voice.

“Alberto Vasconcelos.”

“Mr. Alberto, I’m going to print an agreement for you to sign, acknowledging that you’re handing over your daughter to settle a debt, and that you won’t do the same with the other one. If you disobey, I’ll have you killed without hesitation.”

“All right.” He lowers his head. I signal Marco to go print the paper for me.

I stay silent, watching the man and thinking—no one deserves to go through something like this, to be a victim of their own father. A deranged old man who’d rather trade his daughters to settle debts, putting them through irreparable humiliation and pain. I think of Sara, my sister, and the thought of her going through something like this fills me with disgust and revulsion.

Soon Marco returns with the paper. We sign, and I wrap things up.

“Right, when can I pick up my payment?”