In His Grasp: A Mafia Romance novel Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Marrying Her Off to an Old Man

The instant Emanuele's hand closed around Isabella's neck, she recoiled as if electrified. The room fell into a stunned silence, their companions' eyes wide and fixed on the pair.

"What's amiss, Isabella?" Sophia queried, her voice laced with worry.

"I'm fine. I just need to freshen up," Isabella replied, swiftly rising to her feet and making a beeline for the sanctuary of the bathroom.

The temporary escape from Emanuele's stifling presence was like a gulp of fresh air. "Damn it," Isabella muttered under her breath, the bitterness of her words echoing her resolve to sever any ties with them.

Emerging from the restroom, a walk through the garden corridor was all that separated her from the dining room. But to her shock, she found Emanuele engrossed in a phone conversation. His tone was icy, his words as cutting as a winter breeze, "The swine won't divulge his boss' whereabouts? Then sever his limbs, throw him in a pit with rats, and let him watch as they feast on his flesh!"

Emanuele's chilling declaration sent a wave of dread coursing through Isabella. This man was as she had feared – a devil incarnate.

Just then, Emanuele spotted Isabella, his voice dropping an octave lower. He exchanged a few curt words before ending the call and advancing towards her.

In the dim light, his predatory gaze made him resemble a vampire on the prowl.

Without a second thought, Isabella turned on her heel, heading back towards the house.

She believed that at least in front of the others, Emanuele wouldn't dare to harm her. Little did she know, she would soon hear Emanuele's voice from behind, "If you take one more step, I will shoot and break your legs!"

The menacing presence of Emanuele froze Isabella in place. Within moments, he was looming over her, a towering figure of intimidation.

"Please, I heard nothing. Let me go," Isabella implored, her voice barely a whisper.

Emanuele's dark, sinister laugh echoed in the tense air. "You're that scared of me, little sis?"

Isabella's frame quivered under his gaze, and she tried to invoke a pitiful image, hoping to stir some semblance of familial affection in him. "Emanuele... I'm your sister. Please, show mercy."

The corners of Emanuele's lips curled up into a smirk at her plea, as if he found her fear amusing. He drew her close, his strong arms wrapping around her trembling form. He saw the defiance flicker in her eyes, beneath the layers of fear. He observed her revulsion, thinly veiled behind her pleas for mercy.

The contradiction intrigued him - why did she tremble with fear, yet refused to succumb?

Fascinating indeed!

Emanuele had been aware of this stepsister long before her appearance in his life. Her sudden presence presented a complex dilemma. His father's remarriage, two decades after his mother's passing, didn't bother him. However, this stepmother's daughter attempting to weave herself into their family fabric was something he wouldn't tolerate.

It signified the potential division of their family's power and wealth. Everyone knew the Lombardi family held a significant influence on this continent. Numerous women yearned to be associated with them. The notion of a random woman aspiring to become a mafia princess within their ranks was nothing short of audacious!

So, he had conducted a thorough investigation, learning that she was a twenty-two-year-old college graduate-to-be, currently interning at a hospital. Upon their first encounter, he had to concede that she possessed a captivating beauty. Her skin was as creamy and flawless as porcelain, her auburn hair silky soft. Her features were exquisite, eyes always alight with a brilliant sparkle.