I Paid A Mafia Boss For Our Night novel Chapter 12

Chapter 12 My Brutal and Contradictory Employer

Engagement? Who's getting engaged? Antonio?

"If the princess agrees, I have no objections," Antonio said as he pushed open the door, his voice tinged with irritation as he hung up the phone. "I have urgent matters to attend to."

He walked over, swiftly untying the sash around my wrists before spinning around to change into fresh clothes from the wardrobe. "Stay here tonight. I'll have the driver take you home tomorrow. Where do you live?"

"No! I-" I shifted, my arms aching and awkwardly pulling the blanket up closer. I didn't want to stay, "Could I borrow some clothes? I want to go home."

"It's already late," Antonio reminded me, his voice carrying a dangerous undertone as he leaned in close. I recoiled in fear, his scrutinizing gaze intensifying as he forcefully pinched my chin. "What do you think this place is? Your personal brothel? Come and go as you please?"

The pain in my jaw sharpened, and my breathing hastened from fear. I always forgot our roles. I was no longer a client but merely an accessory to him, constantly reminded that I was nothing more than a prisoner marked with his shackles.

Avoiding his gaze to keep my humiliating tears at bay, I whispered, "Alright... I just want to go back."

My handbag had been lost during the abduction, containing my phone, ID, wallet, and the receipt needed to reclaim my camera-all missing. These were important, yet now their whereabouts were unknown.

Rage built inside me, threatening to burst forth from my throat. Why must I endure this miserable life? "Keep calm, Sienna," I reminded myself. Provoking a mobster would do no good. "I just had some things to take care of, my school..." I tried to keep my tone low, though a hint of defiance slipped through.

"You'd better not entertain that thought," Antonio said, slowly fastening his cufflinks. "Your legs are beautiful. They are meant to wrap around my waist, not broken on your walk home." His threat was laced with a perverse jest, truly fitting of his ruthless mobster demeanor.

"You ... F-" I choked, unable to finish my sentence as his grip tightened around my neck. "A good mistress must learn manners!" he rasped.

Only after I nodded obediently did he release me. I coughed twice, rubbing my neck-his grip was firm, yet not as harsh as the man from yesterday. It felt almost playful, a twisted form of intimacy.

As he dressed, I couldn't help but observe. His physique was impressive, the broadness of his back resembling a shoreline as he slipped on a white shirt, his skills in bed undeniable. Lost in my thoughts, Antonio suddenly threw back my blanket.

"Ah! What are you doing?!" I screamed.

He held my ankle, his thumb caressing my foot bone through the thin skin, and then he leaned in to kiss it, his demeaning posture strangely menacing. "Don't even think about running, Sienna. You wouldn't want to know how the mob deals with runaway slaves."

Was he threatening to break my legs if I tried to escape? Antonio didn't elaborate; instead, his fingers traced my sore throat from yesterday's encounter. His touch made my body tremble with fear, yet I couldn't resist, and his expression darkened. "Don't let others touch you. Remember, you serve only me!"

His fury was evident as he irritably tucked me back into bed, leaving without a goodbye. You could at least give me a shirt! Am I supposed to sit here naked all day? Is this his kink? His methods of torment were more than just cruel.

Realizing I had no rights even to clothing as his captive, I couldn't contain my anger. I decided to search the wardrobe.

This was clearly Antonio's residence, his closet filled with shirts in various colors, matching jackets, and trousers. I grabbed a shirt, its hem just long enough to cover my butt. Dressed, I felt slightly relieved but didn't stop searching-I needed to get out, I needed underwear.

After searching the room, I found only a torn bra in the corner of a nightstand. The extent of its damage suggested a fierce struggle-it must have belonged to one of Antonio's mistresses, unwashed.

I couldn't possibly wear it. I threw it in the trash, the only appropriate way to handle garbage. But this also proved my search futile. Without proper attire, I couldn't leave Antonio's apartment.

His scheme had succeeded.