Page 7 of Owned by the Italian Mafia Boss
Change isn’t a luxury I can afford.
With an impatient sneer, I snatch up the glass and hurl it against the wall with a savage roar. Glass shatters hit the floor and spin out in all directions. Alcohol drips down the wall, reminding me of blood splatter.
Sagging in my chair, I rub a hand down my face and slam my fist against the desk. Before calling the attorney who only works for me, I need to figure out the terms of our agreement because this maddening woman will try to find a way to slip through my fingers.
I can’t allow that to happen.
Just one look at her, one experience of her rage, one sniff of her sweet perfume that reminds me of freshly picked flowers, sweet and fresh, and all I want to do is chain her to my bed so she has no way of escape.
She’s mine.
After snagging a pen, I rip a page from my notebook and begin to write. I only use the laptop when necessary. Writing, seeing the ink on paper, the glide of the pen against paper, feels indefinite, as if nothing can change.
Terms to settle Mack Reynolds’s debt (Delilah Reynolds's father):
-An agreement has been made between the two parties. Delilah Reynolds has agreed to marry and have a child with Carmine Milazzo to save her father’s life and settle his debt.
-She will choose when sexual intercourse takes place. Every move after this agreement is in her hands.
-She agrees to stay in my bed and no other.
-We are to raise our child together. She will be a part of this baby’s life. A child needs a mother.
-She will agree to wear an engagement ring.
-She will not ask for a divorce for three years.
“Not that she’ll ever divorce me. I won’t allow it,” I say, but I want her to feel like she has options. Three years from now, she will have learned to love me.
Licking the tip of the pen, I begin writing again.
-Financially, she and our child will always be taken care of.
-The only way to break this agreement is death because that’s The Devil’s way.
-She is to kiss me every night before we go to bed. The first time she initiates the kiss, every night after that, I will expect said kiss.
I reread what I just wrote and tossed my pen on the desk, staring at the sentence and trying to figure out why I’d want such an absurd term.
Because I’ve never been kissed at night, not even on the cheek by my mother because my father killed her in a fit of rage.
This isn’t about love. It’s still about control. It’s about me wanting moments of good. That’s all. There’s no more meaning behind this.
A kiss at night because going to bed in a rage only leads to death.
Chapter Two
Delilah
“How long am I going to be in here?” I ask Gianni as I step into the bedroom.
“As long as it takes.” He slams the doors shut, causing me to jump.
I gasp, run to the stylish French doors, and then hear a click. Jiggling the door handles, I yank and pull, realizing I’m locked inside. With my fists, I pummel the wood as hard as I can. “Let me out of here, Gianni! I will not be held prisoner. Open the damn doors!” I try jiggling the handles again, sneering when they don’t give. I plant my feet against the ground and pull, hoping the lock breaks, but all I hear on the other side is a chuckle.
Gianni is laughing at me.
I kick the door for good measure. “You should be ashamed of yourself. Who locks a woman in a room?”
