The Mafia Lord’s Captive

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isbelief. Italy. I was actually in Italy, and what's more, the trip wasn't putting a dent in my bank account. Winning this all-expenses-paid journey was a dream come true, even if Italy wasn't

, I swiped to answer, holding the phone to my ear. "Hey Mom," I greeted, my voice a mix of excitement and fatigue. "I've arrive

llow. Slipping my phone back into my jeans pocket, I took a deep breath, savoring the moment. The thought of sharing m

ashed over me. Thankfully, Italian was one of the languages I had learned along with French and Spanish. I responded in kind, providing the addr

ng the events that had led to this incredible opportunity. My role as an event planner at the prestigious international event managemen

, from the elegant decor to the flawless execution of the runway show, had been planned and executed. The moment the event conclude

gazed out of the taxi's window at the unfamiliar streets, I felt a sense of overwhelming happiness. It wasn't just

I could have imagined. A five-star, if not seven-star, establishment greeted me, oozing luxury from every corner. As I walked toward

ith intricate designs and a level of luxury that left me momentarily speechless. It was as though I had stepp

with a warm smile. "Good evening, ma'am. How may I assist you?

"Hi there. I'm Alessia Marino. I belie

given to me for my journey. My gaze shifted from the receptionist's hands to the elegant lobb

ace. "Ah, yes, Ms. Marino. Just one moment, please." She turned her attention to

tched her work. This was it, the beginning of a new adventur

Marino. Everything is in order. One of our staff members will be with you sho

owing with each passing se

hough I had walked into a realm of pure luxury. The grandeur of the space was beyond anything I had e

awe and disbelief. A king-sized bed that seemed fit for royalty beckoned to me, and without a second thought, I crashed onto it, my fin

oughtful touches that surrounded me. The window view, the elegant seatin

the journey seemed to melt away at the prospect of indulging in a hot shower. I was just about

abbed a bathrobe and draped it around me before walk

ds trailed off as a cloth was suddenly pressed against my mouth, and a strange smell invaded my senses.

was the sensation of falling into a pit of darkness, my

y head as I struggled to make sense of my surroundings. The first thing I noticed was the sea of unfami

scent of something unfamiliar hung in the air. Panic knott

old floor. Confusion and fear surged within me. What was happening? How did

rd the crowd. "Ten million," someone called out, the words echoing around

ice chimed in, each bid like

e announced, and then the bid

, a voice that held a dangerous edge pierc

t, I met his gaze. Dark, penetrating eyes locked onto mine, sending an icy shiver down my spine

eaker's voice cut through, announcing the outcome of the bid. "And the bid for today goes to the renowned Mafia lord, Angelo Santoro," He proclaimed, and

he stage. Panic flared within me, and I struggled against the strong hold of the man in the suit, my voic

d fear swirled together. The rush of cold air hit me as we stepped outside, sending a shiver down

stutter in my chest. His gaze pierced through me, an intensity that seemed to see right through my defenses. My mind raced to piece together

s reached me, a low, velvet-laden voic