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"You're in the Mafia, aren't you?" I wished again that I had a pen and paper. "We don't like to use labels. But I am the Mafia, tesoro." ~*~ "You're threatening me." "If that's how you choose to take it. I was simply pointing out to you that I know where you live, where your family lives, the paper you write for, the shops you frequent. We know everything there is to know about you. We've just become very, very close." "Indeed we have." I croaked, my throat suddenly feeling very dry and tight. "Except I know almost nothing about you, and all of this." "Si. It's better that way." He said, standing up straight. ~*~ Miss wanna-be journalist, Cassandra Thorne, would do anything for the scoop. Anything, including finding her way into an underground club exclusive to only those in the Cartel Mafia and the beautiful women they employ. What could be more perfect? She would stick to the shadows, record a few videos, and write the biggest story New York has ever seen, thereby making her a legend. Easy as pie. Until she got found out. A series of blatant lies and luck breaks later, and she's mistaken for one of the workers underneath. While many might be terrified of this, Cassandra couldn't be more excited. The freedom to roam the area and talk to all the members of the infamous brotherhood will leave no rock unturned. All she had to do was keep her cover until the night is over and the workers go home. But there were just two problems: One was him, Christiano Moretti. The Don. The Godfather. The one damned man who had taken a keen interest in Cassandra. Even that was something she could handle for one night. Except for problem number two: They don't leave. Not at the end of the night, the end of the week, or even the end of the year. By the time Cassandra realized that not even the biggest scoop is worth the price, she was in far too deep to call it quits now.
CASSANDRA
~*~
Anything for the scoop. That should be my motto. I was a budding journalist, and in my eyes, there was no such thing as going too far. The bolder and more crazy the story, the more I wanted to be the one to cover it. The more dangerous the situation, the bigger the headline. I couldn't care less about the payout, I was in it for the story. My name would someday be a household name.
I was a reporter, there was no distance I wouldn't go. No rock I wouldn't turn. I would get that scoop. And someday, I would be the most sought-after journalist there was...
Someday.
Today, unfortunately, was not that day. Today? Well, today, I couldn't afford to buy a pack of cigars from this stupid imported store I was standing in.
"I'm sorry?" I rolled my eyes, "The rumors, that this establishment is somehow connected to one of the five families?"
"The...what?"
"The five families! The five original Italian American Mafia crime families of New York! The five families that have dominated organized crimes in the United States since the late thirties! The-"
"Early thirties," He interrupted.
"AH HA!" I gasped, "So you have heard of them. Tell me, who is your business coo hoots with?" I leaned across the counter further forcing the recorder closer to him. "Is it the Gambinos? No, no, I'll bet it's the Genovese. No! The Bonanno!"
"It's not my store. I just work here." He said, putting his hands up submissively.
I frowned, "Listen-" I glanced at his hand tag and then back to his face. "Pete, if you know something you need to talk. Not only would you be obstructing the Law if you didn't, but imagine how great your life would be if you did. I mean, if you helped uncover something like this-"
"If anyone uncovered anything to do with any mafia, they'd be a dead man."
He had a point there.
I pulled the recorder away. "I'm not getting anything from you, am I?" I asked with a sigh.
He smiled, seeming partially sympathetic to my struggle, and shook his head. " Sorry, love, there's no story here."
I sighed, "Are you suuuuuuure?" I put on my best flirtatious face.
"Positive."
I pressed the stop button on my recorder, "Fine. Can I at least use the bathroom before I go?" I grumbled.
He smiled politely and pointed me in the direction of the bathroom.
I made my way to the restroom, I didn't even have to go, I was hoping that maybe there'd be some interesting pictures or something along the hallway or in the bathroom, a face that I could trace. The owner of this building leads to that building leads to... and so on. But nothing. I was feeling frustrated now.
I was sick of reporting dead-end stories. I didn't even have a paper I worked for. I haven't earned that yet. Yes, I was still stuck doing freelance, along with every other wannabe out here. If I wrote it, and they liked it, I was in. But that meant it had to be better than everyone else's, and if it was a story their own company was covering, then it was useless. Finding my stories was essentially my only hope now.
I picked up the stupid swan dish with individually wrapped mints in it, scoffed, and slammed it back down. "Ridiculous!" I muttered. I pulled out a tube of ruby-red lipstick and applied a thin coat over my lips. I had time to kill in here. I had just smacked my lips when I started hearing a ruckus.
A loud ruckus.
The kind of ruckus you generally hear from guns. Plenty of guns. The building was being shot up? Oh yes, definitely mafia-related ties here. But that would have to wait. I dove into a stall and jumped up onto the seat, so my feet would disappear. And then? The reporter in me pulled her cell phone on and hit the record button.
Holy shit.
I was in the middle of a shooting. If I survived this, I would have inside footage! Well, inside the bathroom footage anyway.
The sounds of the continuous rounds stopped, and the bathroom door came open with a slam. The normal human being and terrified woman in me wanted to let out a shrill scream, but I remained completely mute, even when whoever had entered started firing off in the room. Bullets came through the bathroom stall, they seemed to never stop coming. I was covering my head with both of my arms and chewing my cheek so hard to keep from screaming that I could taste blood from them.
After what was probably a couple of seconds of open firing across the whole bathroom, the room was quiet. And then, I heard footsteps.
'Oh, fuck. Oh! shit. Oh, God!. Oh! Damn. Oh, no. Oh, hell. Oh, I'm going to die- I thought frantically in my head. I heard the door of the stall beside me get kicked open, and then silence. I had left my lipstick on the counter! Fucker. Fucking fucker! More footsteps. I pointed my phone camera towards my stall door, my hands were shaking so badly, but I was ready to capture him when he came. Not that anyone would ever see this.
The stall next to my own was kicked violently open. 'Oh hell' After a few moments of silence, I swallowed the lump in my throat. This was it. I was going to die. And I did t even get the story. I saw his shoe from under the stall, I held my breath as he took a step forward.
"Sbrigati, sprigati!" I heard someone yelling. "Andiamo! Polizia!"
("Hurry, hurry! Let's go! Police!")
"Figlo di puttana. Si arrivo." He groaned madly, suddenly the feet in my line of vision were retreating. Feet and voices I had on camera!
Holy damn!
("Son of a bitch. I'm coming.")
I stayed holed up in the bathroom for what felt like three eternities before finally bringing my still-shaking feet to the floor. I turned back to look at the holes in the stall, the stall that I had just been leaning against. How had they missed me? He knew what he was doing, the bullets were not in a straight line, Oh no. They were high, low, right, left, and somehow, no one had touched me.
Someone was on my side tonight, and I wasn't going to let that go to waste. I was going to get my scoop.
While still wielding my phone set to record, I made my way out of the bathroom.
The scent of my arousal spread across the room and I felt like I was flooding with wetness underneath. A finger ran along the swollen lips of my cunt and I squirmed at his rough touch. āThatās right, stay wet for me, it might not hurt that much.ā ā¢ā¢ā¢ At first, it was a myth, but then it became a rumor. About an Alpha beastā¦ A scarred beast who lived in the shadows. known as a sex Alpha before the battle went down and after, he was known as the scarred beast who preyed on females in heat. No female had ever survived his wrath or bore his mark. Except for one. Penelope never thought that she could come across one full moon night where she felt more heated than ever. Once marked by the beast, everyone frowned upon her and she was ruined until the beast appeared again, claiming her as his. 18+ (Gruesome sex scenes)
Listen to me, if youāre-ā āShut up.ā I was taken aback by his sudden choice of word. āLetās get something straight miss Grey, I do not appreciate people talking to me, and I loathe it more when people talk back at me. Truthfully, you are crossing your limit and patience with me. So from now on, youāll do exactly what I say and as I say. You understand me?ā ā¦ā¦ā¦ā¦ā¦ā¦ā¦ā¦ā¦ā¦ā¦ā¦ā¦ā¦ā¦ā¦ā¦ā¦ā¦.. Mystery. Romance. Deceit. Finding evidences of her dead brotherās whereabouts, Becky Grey believes that he is still alive. In pursuit to find her brother and restore her familyās remaining happiness, she encounters the infamous and Godforsakenly alluring Russian bastard Sinister Alexander Salvaltore and gets ensnared in his plan of capturing her brother. In order to attain his goal, he offers her a deal. However, the deeper she dives into the tangles of Sinisterās merciless world, she finds herself in a hauntingly farmiliar past. A past that she has been erased from- A past that she cannot escape. Unsettling secrets loom the air of her maddening relationship with Sinister. The question is, will she run from him? Or to him?
"Ahh!" She was in a moaning mess. She did not want to feel anything for this man. She hated him. His hands began to move all over her body. She gasped when he pulled down the back chain of her dress. The chain stopped at her lower waist, so when he zipped it off, her upper back and waist were exposed. "D-Don't touch m-ummm!" His fingers rolled around her bare back, and she pressed her head against the pillow. His touches were giving her goosebumps all over her body. With a deep angry voice, he whispered in her ear, "I am going to make you forget his touches, kisses, and everything. Every time you touch another man, you will only think of me." - - - Ava Adler was a nerdy omega. People bullied her because they thought she was ugly and unattractive. But Ava secretly loved the bad boy, Ian Dawson. He was the future Alpha of the Mystic Shadow Pack. However, he doesn't give a damn about rules and laws, as he only likes to play around with girls. Ava was unaware of Ian's arrogance until her fate intertwined with his. He neglected her and hurt her deeply. What would happen when Ava turned out to be a beautiful girl who could win over any boy, and Ian looked back and regretted his decisions? What if she had a secret identity that she had yet to discover? What if the tables turned and Ian begged her not to leave him?
For as long as Emily can remember, she has wanted to overcome her shyness and explore her sexuality. Still, everything changes when she receives an invitation to visit one of the town's most prestigious BDSM clubs, DESIRE'S DEN. On the day she chose to peruse the club, she noticed three men, all dressed in suits, standing on the upper level, near the railing. Despite her limited vision, she persisted in fixating on them. Their towering statues belied the toned bodies concealed by their sharply tailored suits-or so she could tell. The hair of two of them was short and dark, and the third had light brown-possibly blond-hair that reached the shoulders. The dark, crimson background incised their figures, exuding an air of mystery and strength. They stood in stark contrast to the unfiltered, primal energy that pulsed through the club. Shocked by the desires these men aroused in her, she was disappointed to learn that they were masters seeking a slave to divide and conquer. She couldn't afford the fee, and she also realized that they were outside her league. Emily hurriedly left the club, feeling disappointed and depressed, unaware that she had also caught the group's attention. A world of wicked pleasure, three handsome men. Over the years, they have lived a life of decadence, their lavish lair serving as a stage for their most sinister desires. But despite the unending parade of willing subjects, one woman sticks out. A mysterious stranger with white porcelain skin and a killer body, a slave, a name with no address, the first lady to attract their eye and they will go to any length to obtain her no matter the consequences.
Rachel used to think that her devotion would win Brian over one day, but she was proven wrong when his true love returned. Rachel had endured it allāfrom standing alone at the altar to dragging herself to the hospital for an emergency treatment. Everyone thought she was crazy to give up so much of herself for someone who didnāt return her feelings. But when Brian received news of Rachelās terminal illness and realized she didnāt have long to live, he completely broke down. "I forbid you to die!" Rachel just smiled. She no longer needed him. "I will finally be free."
Rena got into an entanglement with a big shot when she was drunk one night. She needed Waylen's help while he was drawn to her youthful beauty. As such, what was supposed to be a one-night stand progressed into something serious. All was well until Rena discovered that Waylen's heart belonged to another woman. When his first love returned, he stopped coming home, leaving Rena all alone for many nights. She put up with it until she received a check and farewell note one day. Contrary to how Waylen expected her to react, Rena had a smile on her face as she bid him farewell. "It was fun while it lasted, Waylen. May our paths never cross. Have a nice life." But as fate would have it, their paths crossed again. This time, Rena had another man by her side. Waylen's eyes burned with jealousy. He spat, "How the hell did you move on? I thought you loved only me!" "Keyword, loved!" Rena flipped her hair back and retorted, "There are plenty of fish in the sea, Waylen. Besides, you were the one who asked for a breakup. Now, if you want to date me, you have to wait in line." The next day, Rena received a credit alert of billions and a diamond ring. Waylen appeared again, got down on one knee, and uttered, "May I cut in line, Rena? I still want you."
"I heard you're going to marry Marcelo. Is this perhaps your revenge against me? It's very laughable, Renee. That man can barely function." Her foster family, her cheating ex, everyone thought Renee was going to live in pure hell after getting married to a disabled and cruel man. She didn't know if anything good would ever come out of it after all, she had always thought it would be hard for anyone to love her but this cruel man with dark secrets is never going to grant her a divorce because she makes him forget how to breathe.
Allison fell in love with Ethan Iversen, the soon-to-be Alpha of the Moonlight Crown pack. She always wanted him to notice her. Meanwhile, Ethan was an arrogant Alpha who thought a weak Omega could not be his companion.Ā Ethan's cousin, Ryan Iversen, who came back from abroad and was the actual heir of the pack, never tried to get the position nor did he show any interest in it. He was a popular playboy Alpha but when he came back to the pack, one thing captured his eyes and that was Allison.