Dark Mafia Heir (Mafia Vows #3)

Chapter 9

9

Vivienne

I ’ve been pacing the dark room Luca locked me in, thinking of a way to escape from Antonio and whatever this place is.

I still can’t believe that man had the nerve to kidnap me from my own engagement dinner and bring me here. And what was that he said about us getting married?

No. There’s no way he meant that. He was just bluffing; he had to be.

My shoulders sag, and my legs grow weak, almost giving out from the weight of everything that’s happening. It’s all too much for me to process.

I lower myself on the queen-sized bed behind me, clutching the sheets as if my life depends on it. My thoughts drift to my father and sister. I wonder if Papa is desperately looking for me right now and what he thinks.

I wonder what he thinks of the situation. Has he found out I was kidnapped, or does he think I ran off to avoid marrying Enzo?

And Harper, what will she make of all of this when she finds out about it? She’ll be broken; she’ll resent our father for putting me through this.

I’m startled when someone unlocks the door from outside. I expect to see Antonio or one of his men, but an older woman enters the room instead. Most of her black hair is now gray from old age, and her wrinkles deepen when she smiles at me. She looks no older than fifty or mid-fifties.

“Good evening, child,” she says as she walks to the vanity table across from the bed with a tray of food. “It’s been hours since you arrived, and I thought you might be hungry, so I brought you some food.”

I rise to my feet and stare at the plate filled with spaghetti and meatballs. It smells so delicious that my stomach rumbles for some food. I haven’t had anything to eat for a day now.

I’d been so anxious about my engagement to Enzo that I lost my appetite a day before I even met him.

But it’s not really the mouth-watering dish that has my attention but the shiny knife sparkling under the overhead light. It’s basically whispering and calling out to me, filling my head with stupid ideas.

“I squeezed fresh oranges for you,” the old lady says. “Eat, I’m sure you’ll like it.”

She seems like a nice person and nothing like Antonio, it’s the reason I turn to her and give her an apologetic look before letting my impulsive thought take over.

I quickly grab the knife from the plate and hold it to her throat. “I’m sorry,” I say to her, and I mean it. “This is the only way I can get out of here alive.”

For someone who has a knife pressed to her throat, she is oddly calm. “You can’t escape from here, child. Not even as a corpse.”

I can’t tell if she’s on Antonio’s side or if she’s just being pessimistic, but I don’t let it deter me as I glance at the wide-open door. That door, this woman, and the knife I’m holding are my ticket out of here. “We’ll see about that. Move.”

She huffs out a breath as if I’m a fly who perched on her arm merely to bother her. “You can’t escape from here. The boss won’t let you.”

“That is not for you to decide.” I press the knife hard enough to her throat, so she doesn’t think of anything stupid as I lead her out of the room and down the hallway.

The dim lighting barely reveals the old portraits lining the walls, casting shadows that stretch and warp, adding to the eerie atmosphere of the mansion.

It’s way too quiet here, and I can hear the old lady’s soft breaths as she follows me without putting up a fight. It’s unnerving how she’s acting as if this is all a minor inconvenience, nothing to worry about.

We reach the end of the hallway, and I glance at the stairs stretching out to my right and left. I’d been a bit out of it when Luca dragged me up here, and now I have no freaking idea what way to go. “Left or right?”

She glances left before giving me a faint, almost condescending smile. “Right,” she says, her voice smooth and unbothered.

I don’t know whether to trust her, but I can’t afford to hesitate. Each second is a gamble, and Antonio or one of his men could show up at any moment.

My fingers tremble slightly against the knife’s hilt, but I force myself to keep moving, pressing it a little more firmly against her throat to maintain control. That is when I realize I knew nothing about this woman.

I don’t know her name or why she’s here. She could be a victim of Antonio’s madness, just like me.

My pulse races as I start to climb down the stairs, my gaze bouncing to the foyer and back up to the hallway just in case someone comes in.

“Who are you?” I ask the woman, partly because I’m curious and also to keep the churning in my stomach under control. “Why are you working for someone like Antonio, and why does he want to marry me?”

The woman chuckles softly. “I don’t think you should be asking a question like that with a knife pressed against my throat, child. As for why he wants to marry you, I think you’ll figure it out soon enough.”

“Figure what out?” I snap, feeling a surge of frustration at the fact that I will always be a pawn in this game. Whether it’s my papa or a man who kidnapped me. “Just tell me, why does he want to marry me? I’m sure he can still achieve whatever it is he wants regardless of whether he marries me or not.”

Her eyes twinkle with a mix of pity and amusement as she replies, “I don’t think Antonio himself realizes why he wants you. You’ll both figure it out when it’s time.”

I grit my teeth, fighting the urge to scream at her.

My head is too much of a mess, and I don’t need cryptic nonsense right now. I need answers and a way to get out of here.

We reach the bottom of the stairs, and the foyer stretches ahead of me, lined with more doors. It feels endless, and the weight of walking through that door and making it out of here alive weighs down on me like a physical force.

Still, I sigh in relief when I see there’s no sign of Antonio or his men anywhere. It would be a hassle getting through the door if they were here.

“Which one leads out?” I ask, scanning the doors for any sign of escape.

“The main door is at the end of the hallway,” she replies calmly. “But you won’t make it.”

Her confidence sends a chill down my spine, but I can’t let her words get to me. I have to keep going. Each step is a fight against the voice in my head telling me this might be hopeless. There’s no way escaping from this place would be this easy.

Suddenly, I hear slow and steady footsteps behind me. My heart leaps into my throat, and my hands start to tremble with fear. It’s all over if Antonio or anyone else comes in here.

There’s no time to think. I shove the woman to the side and bolt down the hallway, sprinting toward the door at the far end.

Still clenched in your hand, the knife feels slippery with sweat, but I don’t let it go. I’m feral, and I’ll attack anyone who tries to stop me, no matter who it is.

“Stop!” a deep voice booms from behind, and I know without looking that it’s one of Antonio’s men. It doesn’t sound like the one who dragged me upstairs, so it must be the other one, Lorenzo.

I don’t stop. I can’t. The door is so close now. Just a few more steps?—

A strong arm wraps around my waist from behind, yanking me backward with such force that the air is knocked out of my lungs. When I look back to see who it is, I see that it’s not one of the men from earlier. I haven’t met this one before. He’s as tall as a mountain with one very white eye and the other blue. He’s not ugly, but the icy expression on his face makes him look like a monster from my nightmare when I was a child.

The knife flies from my hand, clattering uselessly on the marble floor. I struggle, kicking and writhing in the man’s grip, but he’s too strong. I am too weak.

Panic surges through me as he drags me back, my feet barely touching the ground.

“Enough!” Antonio’s voice cuts through the chaos like a whip, commanding and unyielding.

The man holding me stops, loosening his grip just enough for me to breathe, but I’m still trapped.

My eyes dart around, searching for any possible way out, but there’s nothing.

Antonio steps into view, his dark eyes lock onto mine, and the cold, calculated expression on his face sends a wave of dread crashing over me.

“I told you, gattina ,” he says, his voice deceptively calm. “There’s no escaping me. We’re getting married, whether you like it or not.”

My heart hammers in my chest, and for a moment, I can’t find my voice. I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. “You’re insane if you think I’ll ever marry you.”

Antonio steps closer, his gaze never leaving mine. “Insane? Perhaps. But you belong to me now. You’re mine whole and entire. Do you know what that means?”

I scowl at him, my nostrils flaring with rage. But God, he’s also so dangerously close and smells so good that I find myself a little distracted by him.

Focus, Vivienne. You hate this man.

I’m definitely not attracted to that fifties pompadour haircut or the black suit he wears like a fucking devil. I hate him—I should hate him.

He nods to the man holding me.

The man nods back and releases me instantly.

I stumble slightly but catch myself, glaring at Antonio as I back away from the man. “I’ll never be yours,” I spit with as much disdain as I can. “I won’t marry you. I’d rather die than marry a pig like you.”

Antonio smirks, a dark gleam in his eyes. “I didn’t ask if you will, Vivienne. You don’t have a choice.”

The truth strokes me like a knife to the chest. For the first time since I was brought here, I realize how truly stuck I am. Antonio’s word is law in this place, and I’ll only leave here if he lets me.

My ego will now allow me to beg him, but I can negotiate with him. I can make him see how fucked up this is, so I try. “I’m sorry you lost someone dear to you because of my father, but you have to let me go. I promise I’ll make him tell you whatever it is you need answers on.”

Antonio cocks his brow.

I have no idea if that’s a sign that my words are getting to him, but I try to take advantage of it. “No, I’ll find out whatever he knows and bring the information to you myself, please.”

His lips twitch with a half-smile. “Are you trying to strike a deal with me, gattina ?”

I square my shoulders and nod. “I am. I will do whatever it takes to leave this place. Just let me go?”

His half-smile turns into a full-lopsided grin now. “That doesn’t sound like you’re begging me. It sounds like you're giving me orders.”

“I won’t beg if that’s what you want.”

He inches closer to me, the heat from his body warming me up. Placing a finger under my chin, he tilts my face so my eyes meet his. “I saved you from marrying that old bastard. If anything, you should be thanking me.”

“I would be thanking you if you didn’t kidnap me like I am a darn animal. I would be on my knees thanking you if you weren’t forcing me to marry you.”

His thumb trails my jawline, and his touch ignites a flame on my skin. “I don’t need you down on your knees, thanking me, gattina . There are plenty of other things I would rather you do if you’re desperate to go on your knees.”

“And what—” I trail off when I realize the perverted thoughts behind those words. My cheeks flush, and there’s a flutter in my stomach. “Pig!”

He chuckles softly. “I’ve been called worst.” Pulling away from me, he claps once.

The front door opens, and two women enter inside, pushing a rack of wedding gowns in different shades of white and designs,

My jaw falls open, and I gape at Antonio, unable to muster any words.

He does a perfect job at reading my expression and explains before I even ask. “Pick a dress you like. We’re getting married tomorrow evening.”

I scoff. “Like heck, I will. You’ll have to kill me first, though.” I turn around and start to leave, but he grabs my wrist and hauls back, pushing me against the wall and pressing his body against mine.

Damn. He’s so strong…and I must be losing my mind because why the hell am I getting turned on?

“Leave,” he growls.

Everyone else in the hallway takes the nearest exit outside.

“Don’t provoke me, Vivienne,” he warns. “Be a good girl and do as you’re told.”

I don’t want to do as I’m told. I want to provoke him and push against his limits until he has none left. Maybe he’ll let me go then or punish me. “What will you do if I don’t? Kill me?”

He leans in, and his hot breath caresses my earlobe as he whispers, “I won’t kill you, but I’ll punish you.”

His words seep through my skin like poison, simmering in my stomach and awakening a throb between my legs. “Punish me.”

I need to see how far he’ll go to prove his dominance over me. I need to know how my body will react to his torture.

His tongue grazes my throat, and a soft moan slips from my lips, the unexpectedness of it sending a shiver down my spine.

The sensation is overwhelming, pleasure mingling with the heat of his touch. “Since you’re so eager to be punished,” he murmurs against my skin, his voice low and dangerous, “make sure you don’t regret it.”

His lips follow with a trail of scorching kisses, each one igniting a fire beneath my skin as he moves along my neck, claiming me with every breath.

My heart is pounding as he speaks, and my body is trembling with anticipation. I don't know what comes over me, but I suddenly feel like I'm in a game of chicken, daring him to go too far, daring myself to break under his touch.

He pins my hands above my head, and I don’t bother to fight him. “You asked for it,” he growls, sliding down the arm of my dress and exposing my breasts.

My nipples are taut and aching, the cool air and his gaze making them even more sensitive. A wave of goosebumps races across my skin as I catch the raw, hungry desire flickering in his eyes, his stare devouring every inch of my exposed body.

The intensity of his lust sends a pulse of heat through me, making me hyperaware of just how vulnerable and bare I am before him.

I try to keep my eyes locked on his, but the current of desire surging through me makes it hard to remain in control.

He's right; I did ask for it. But in this moment, with his hands on me and his lips burning a trail up my neck, all I can think is that I'm not sure I want him to stop.

“Please,” I whisper, my voice barely audible. I want to tell him to stop, but I can’t bring myself to say the words because I want him. I’m attracted to this man as much as I hate him, which is confusing.

Antonio's eyes flash with a predatory gleam.

He never breaks eye contact as he uses one hand to gently pinch my nipple before bringing his other hand down to brush against my clit. A wave of heat floods my body, and a low moan escapes from deep within me.

His eyes flare with excitement at the sound, and he grips the waistband of my dress, pulling it down over my hips and discarding it onto the floor. “ Mio Dio,” he purrs. “You’re beautiful, gattina .”

My heart flutters, a delicious ache settling low in my core, making me crave his next move.

He glides a hand up my thighs and growls at the pool of wetness between my legs. “I see you’re hungry for me, gattina ,” he whispers. “How long have you been thinking of me doing this to you?”

“I…” I let out a raspy breath as he presses a thumb against my clitoris and starts to rub it. “I haven’t been thinking of you.”

He flashes a wicked smile at me and pushes a finger inside me. “Liar,” he whispers against my ear. “You’re dripping with need, and you still lie to me.”

I open my mouth to argue, but a deep, needy moan is the only sound that comes out.

Antonio's eyes darken with desire as he watches me lose control. His lips curl into a smirk as he continues to touch me, probing me further with his fingers and rubbing against my most sensitive spots.

I arch my back and whimper at the pleasurable sensation that courses through my body. My mind is a jumble of conflicting emotions; anger at being trapped by this man, desire for his touch, and a strange sense of longing for something more.

A slow, burning pressure coils deep in my core, tightening with each thrust of his finger in and out of me. It threatens to unravel me completely.

I wrap my arms around his neck, my fingers digging into his flesh as I allow the sweet sensation to cocoon me completely.

Antonio pushes another finger inside me, curling it all the way to my G-spot, and that is all it takes for my orgasm to explode through me.

I cry out with pleasure, my eyes and head rolling to the back and my legs trembling.

He holds me up, rubbing my clitoris harder and faster as I come on his fingers.

It takes minutes for me to recover from the intensity of the best orgasm I’ve ever had in my life—the only orgasm I’ve ever had because my father wouldn’t let me date anyone. He’d threatened to kill whoever laid a finger on me, and I couldn’t stand the thought of anyone getting hurt because of me.

My first and only kiss was in high school, and the boy’s father had mysteriously gotten into an accident the following day. That was enough warning for me not to try anything stupid again.

Antonio releases me and thrust his fingers full of my juices into my mouth. I lick myself off him desperately, wanting to feel more of what he has to offer.

But he doesn’t give me more. He smiles cruelly. “Choose a dress, gattina . We’re getting married tomorrow, and I won’t ask again.”

He slides his fingers out from my mouth and starts to walk away.

I glide down the wall, and a wave of shame washes over me. Shame that I’d given in so easily to this man who I hate, and I enjoyed every bit of it.