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ADALYN

H earing my real name from the beautiful man’s lips made my heart pound furiously with adrenaline. My body tensed, preparing for an inevitable onslaught.

This is not going to be good.

“My name is Don Marco La Torre.” He announced, eyes slicing to mine with an indifferent intensity that sent shock rolling in my stomach.

I had never heard the name before—but I didn’t have to.

He was a Don. Cosa Nostra.

I was in the home of a rival family.

And they knew who I was.

“I’ve been watching you for a while now, Adalyn.” He continued after a moment. “You see, the Mannino’s double-crossed my family a long time ago and took something irreplaceable from me. So…when the opportunity presented itself, I decided to take something in return. You.”

With a deliberate slowness that spoke of power and authoritarian control, he rose to his feet. Coming toward me with a predatory stalk that sent a chill down my spine. He languidly leaned against the rich mahogany before me, shooting me a gaze that was more predatory than it was human.

My God, the man was huge.

Not Adonis’s level of huge, but still … He was right around the six-foot mark, and while his muscle density paled in comparison to the other man’s, the Don had a more aggressive physic. A testament to a lifetime of discipline, persistence, and countless hours spent training, I was sure. Even to the most untrained eye, he looked the epitome of lethal.

I swallowed the frog in my throat and forced myself to look away from the man that more closely resembled the devil himself.

His fingers drummed absentmindedly against the desk beside him. “You belong to me now, as my hostage, and until your father meets my demands you will stay my hostage indefinitely.”

Dread and fear leaked into my blood in equal measure. The hair on my arms rose as the realization of my situation hit me.

Shit .

I didn’t know how I had found myself trapped here, who the hell this man was before me, or where in the godforsaken country I even was right now… but it didn’t matter. Not really. All that mattered was the very real possibility of torment, pain, and brutality that awaited me until my father paid their ransom.

Assuming they would let me leave at all.

Unfortunately, I knew how Mafia men operated and knew that the odds of me leaving this situation unscathed while waiting for my ransom to be paid were dwindling by the second.

If I was going to survive, I had to think of something.

The only problem was I didn’t have anything to offer him. I had been kept away from the family business my entire life, and I didn’t have even the smallest bit of information that could help save me from this situation.

But I had to think of something. If I didn’t… I didn’t want to think about what could happen to me.

I had heard too many men being tortured by my cousins to not know what was coming for me. But, I had also watched the men of my family navigate conflict, master manipulation and perpetually act with an often-false sense of bravado, too. I had seen many men play this game every day of my life… Now my survival was going to rest on how well I could play that game, too.

I bit back my fear as an idea cemented itself in my head.

Here goes nothing.

I sighed loudly in irritation. As if being held a hostage was merely annoying as opposed to terrifying. “Have you even made contact with my family yet?”

The Don’s expression darkened in what I was certain was insult. “ Obviously .”

Clearly this man didn’t like being questioned. Couldn’t say I had met many Cosa Nostra men that did…but I filed that piece of information away for later anyway.

“Then I’m unconcerned.” I dismissed. Liar. I shoved away my fear and forced myself to shrug with a nonchalance I didn’t feel, “This will all be over soon enough.”

“You seem oddly sure of yourself.” The Don remarked, unimpressed.

A bead of sweat tracked down the back of my neck, keenly aware of how my next words could mean the difference between living, dying, or torture.

I didn’t know what kind of man stood before me now or what he might be capable of, but I knew his type well enough to know a monster lived beneath his skin.

My lie was going to have to be a good one.

I hid my fear behind a smile, “Oh, I am . You see, you haven’t just stolen some random Don’s daughter that doesn’t stand to inherit anything. You’ve stolen one of my father’s greatest assets . Whatever ransom you’re demanding, he’ll pay it. And I wouldn’t be surprised if he would pay you more if that meant my safe return.”

A second ticked by in silence. My heart beat in my throat as the man seemed to evaluate me, weighing up my words and searching for something in my expression.

I prayed to God he didn’t see the cracks in my facade.

I had never been a very good liar.

Eventually, he smirked.

“And, how exactly, are you an asset?” A cruel, calculating trace of humor colored his tone and I bristled.

“Because I can be used to negotiate alliances in a way few other deals can. Marriage is a very powerful institution in our culture, is it not? Through me, my father plans to expand his empire and forge alliances that are not only built on trust, but are legally binding. I would consider that an asset... Plus there is only one of me.”

The Don’s expression darkened, and his face hardened at my words as he saw the logic in my answer.

It didn’t matter that it was a bold ass lie .

It was true that marriage contracts were the most powerful way to forge agreements, adding weight to even the most tumultuous business deals…but it wasn’t exactly like my father was rushing to expand his empire, and I hadn’t even caught so much as a whiff of a marriage contract being drawn up with my name on it. As far as I knew, my father wasn’t that bothered about expanding the Mannino’s reach outside of Las Vegas or about using me to broker an alliance.

But he didn’t need to know that.

I crossed my arms and shot him a look I was hoping he would interpret for cool indifference.

“It goes without saying, but if you so much as lay a hand on me during my time as a hostage… Well , my father won’t take too kindly to that. He would consider it an act of war and your family will be hunted long after the ransom’s been paid. You’ll all be dead within a year.”

I prayed to God he didn’t detect the subtle quiver in my tone.

“What makes you think I give a shit about starting a war?” Anger hit me the second I registered the boredom in his tone. Like he would much rather shove nails into his eyes and drink battery acid than continue speaking to me.

“Are you really that stupid?” I bit out.

And instantly regretted it.

Cool tendrils of dread coiled in my chest, culminating into fear when he took a step toward me. Within a second the man was in my face, towering over me with a large hand latched hard around my jaw. He wrenched my head up, forcing me to meet his furious gaze.

I winced at the pain but met his glare head on, refusing to show him any fear and desperate to cling to the facade of self-importance I had constructed.

“Not very smart for a mafia princess, are you?” He spat. The muscle of his jaw ticked as his fingers branded themselves against my skin. “Your family are nothing to players like me. I could exterminate every one of them before the end of the week if I wanted to. Your threats mean nothing.” He promised.

Shit .

I needed him to think my family posed some kind of real threat—it was the only chance I had.

“Perhaps. Perhaps not. Let’s just say you’d have more than only my family to exterminate if that was the case.” I hissed back, fighting against the tightness in my jaw to get the words out.

His lips curled, flashing perfect white teeth.

“Bullshit.” He said, calling my bluff.

Fear curdled my stomach.

I had to up my game. Double-down. I had to convince him. I didn’t want to consider the alternative. Couldn’t consider it.

Fortunately, I did know the name of one business associate of my father’s… even if I had spent the last seven years trying to forget it.

“Not sure my father’s deal with Arturo Lopez constitutes bullshit, but okay. I would be very careful not to underestimate your enemy, Don La Torre. After all, it is harder to fight a war that comes at you from both sides.”

The muscle ticked in his jaw again but after a handful of seconds more, his hand released my face and he stalked away, preferring to glare at me from a distance. The material of his shirt pulled taunt as he crossed his arms, ever the picture of indifference.

“Fine.” He said the word like it disgusted him.

Potent and consuming relief made the weight of my lies melt away the second the word reached my ears.

He believed it.

The story I had fabricated and spun to my advantage…it had been enough to protect me from the very worst this situation had to offer.

He wasn’t going to hurt me.

“You will remain here, unharmed , until negotiations conclude with your father. The room you woke up in will be yours for the duration of your time here and you are free to move about the house, but you are not permitted to leave it.”

I fought the urge to sink to my knees in gratitude, and I did my best to keep my expression neutral and cold. Much like the man’s before me.

Our eyes fell into a kind of deadlock across the room. The stoic silence gnawed at my insides, making me feel all kinds of discomfort. I forced myself to ignore it. He was sizing me up, much like a predator sizes up his prey, and there was no way in hell I was showing him any weakness. Not now . Not after the foundations of my ruse had been poured.

“You are free to leave.”

I didn’t need telling twice.

I spun on my heel and walked out the door as swiftly as my legs could carry me.

MARCO

My earlier conversation with Adalyn had echoed between my ears since the second the door had snicked shut behind her.

From the moment I saw her across the bar at The Venetian Prince, I had been blindsided…and I hated it. Almost as much as I hated her blatant self-assuredness.

Adalyn Mannino was not what I had expected.

Her doe-like eyes and petite stature had inexplicably duped me. She had looked sexy as hell back at my club, and yet, she had carried herself in a way that told me she didn’t know it. There was a distinct shyness about her that all but screamed Cosa Nostra .

But appearances were deceiving.

There was nothing innocent or submissive about the woman that stood before me in my study. Nothing doe-like about the woman who had threatened war against my family if I so much as touched her. My blood boiled into a rage at the memory.

Never in my life had I been shown such insubordination or contempt by someone who lacked any sort of power. Even those who were considered my rivals never dared. She was a Mafia Princess and had been keenly aware of who I was before the word ‘stupid’ had left her pretty little lips…and yet she hadn’t hesitated to call me it. Just as she hadn’t shown fear when I’d glared at her, her small jaw consumed by my hand.

I hadn’t decided yet whether she was the bravest woman I had ever met or the most insolent. Either way, her disrespect had gotten to me. It pushed my buttons in a way few things ever did.

“Brother.”

Jesse’s voice broke through my internal dialogue, and I flexed my hand from the fist I had unknowingly formed.

I looked up at the two men who had entered the room.

“Communications with the Mannino’s has started to decline.” Benny informed me.

Benny was my consigliere and had worked for my family as an advisor for over thirty years, having served my father before me. He was a stout old man these days, but his advice had always been as sound as his reasoning.

He leaned forward in his chair to place a black phone on the desk between us. “I have proposed a meeting with them in the coming days. The location, for the time being, is undecided.”

“Fine. I would suggest somewhere close to Las Vegas, but not close enough for them to band together should they need too. We don’t need a bloodbath before the talking begins.”

“Agreed. I will look at available options with Wyatt and Jesse this afternoon.”

The older man rose from his chair, tipping his head in a show of respect before departing the office.

Jesse hauled himself down into the recently abandoned chair, “Looking a bit worse for wear there, Brother.” He observed.

I dragged my hands down my face, feeling the tension in my forehead.

“She’s a beauty, isn’t she?” Jesse grinned.

“She is insolent and headstrong. A mafia princess should be raised better.” I retorted.

Jesse just shook his head, “Well, I think it’s admirable.”

“Admirable?” I questioned, rising to my feet, and pouring some whiskey from the decanter nearby. I slid a tumbler over to Jesse as I re-took my seat. “How so?”

Jesse only deigned to answer after he had chugged back some of the amber liquor. “There’s not many men in this world, let alone a woman , who would stand up to you the way she did today. Any other person would have cried, begged at your feet, or accepted their fate without a word. Instead, Adalyn stood before you and threatened you with her family’s worst. She has more balls than I have for doing that.”

“Or she’s just stupid.” I muttered.

He tipped up his glass with a smile. “You and I both know her GPA says otherwise.”

It was true; it was in the file Jesse had compiled on her and her entire family.

I sighed. “She is going to be a challenge.”

“And you thought the hard part would be these negotiations.” He laughed and tipped back the glass, downing the rest in one. “Which reminds me, I have an inmate to take care of.”

My lips quirked in a smile as he got to his feet and promptly departed the study.

The moment the door snicked shut behind him, I let out a heavy sigh I’d been holding since the moment Adalyn Mannino had walked into my life.

I took a mouthful from my tumbler and retrieved the phone from across the desk. The screen lit up with a picture of Adalyn and the friend I had seen her dancing with the other night at the club. I clicked on the messages and call history, reviewing the communications between us and the Mannino’s.

Benny was right—they were dwindling. Their responses had started coming slower over the last two days and were increasingly sparse. Irritated, I put the device on the desk, and I glared at the phone.

Adalyn’s phone.

Lured by curiosity instead of reason, I retook the device and began scrolling through its contents for an entirely different reason.

Her photo album was surprising in that it told me almost nothing about her. The images were entirely ordinary, consisting of her friends, her car and outfit ideas she clearly liked. Nothing of any real note.

I gritted my teeth in frustration but quickly calmed back down when I noted the numerous apps for social media. I scrolled through them all, seeing the things she liked or followed. The conversations she had been having.

There was one in particular that caught my attention.

Seems my hostage has a naughty side.

I scanned through some of the pictures she had sent to someone called ‘Jason’. Anger tinged with arousal pooled in my gut as I stared at a risqué photo of Adalyn in some intricate lingerie. Her delicate face pulled into a timidly patient smile.

My dick instantly hardened and began throbbing.

I quickly clicked on the other two images she had sent, skirting around the dick pictures also present amongst the chat history.

I almost creamed in my goddamn pants.

Fucking hell.

The final picture was of Adalyn in a sexy black lace outfit complete with suspenders. Her nipples were like hardened beads against the tight strip of fabric cradling her chest. Her panties mere spindly little scraps of material at her sides.

I’m going straight to hell for this.

Not that I cared one tiny bit. Someone like me was going to go straight to hell anyway… Might as well enjoy the descent.

I retrieved my own phone and air-dropped the images across to it, saving them.

I was going to need them for later when I was in the privacy of my own room… For research I told myself.

ADALYN

The second I had reached my room that afternoon, I had started devising a plan.

I pressed my face against the glass of one of the windows and sighed upon seeing the steep drop to the ground below. It was steep enough that I wasn’t confident I could walk away from it. There wasn’t a perfectly manicured bush, ledge, or anything else I could use to break the fall either, and I all but cried with frustration.

I have to get out of here.

If I was wholly confident on my family’s ability to pay the ransom, then I would have barely considered trying to escape. But the truth was… I wasn’t counting on it. On them . What if Don La Torre wanted something my family couldn’t give them? What if they wanted my father dead as part of the exchange? They were things my family were never going to deliver on and whether I liked it or not, I wasn’t worth that to my family.

I was just a Don’s daughter. I wasn’t even an heir.

I was going to have to find another way to save myself... and the window had looked like my best option up until five minutes ago.

I threw myself back across the expanse of bed.

I need a new plan.

By eight o’clock that evening I found one.

I had spent hours listening to the movements of the house and keeping track of how busy the halls of the mansion were. It wasn’t the best reconnaissance mission I had ever launched, but it was better than being totally blindsided. No one would be expecting me to run on the first night anyway… It was the best shot I had.

When dinner was brought to my room shortly after eight, I wolfed it down to build up strength. I didn’t know what I would do if I did make it out of wherever-the-hell-I-was, but I sure as shit didn’t have any money on me to buy food for a while if I did.

At about ten, Adonis —Jesse , knocked on my door to say he was turning in for the night and said if I needed anything he was in the room across the hall. I was going to have to be extra quiet while leaving, given how close his door was to mine when I sneakily took in its proximity. Fantastic .

By eleven, I had found a travel bag in the dressing room and loaded it with a few water bottles, my medicine that I—albeit unnervingly—found in one of the drawers, and two Chanel handbags.

What? He said they were mine, I reasoned.

With my essentials packed, I threw on some new leggings, an oversized top, and a jacket before sitting on my bed and waiting for the clock to hit twelve.

The moment it did, I eased the bedroom door open and listened for any signs of movement from either Jesse’s room or further down the hall.

After waiting a few minutes and hearing nothing but ominous silence, I tiptoed down the passageway and descended the steps.

Deciding that the front door was probably too obvious an option, I edged through the halls until I came to the furthest room in the house. I pushed open one of the windowpanes and all but squealed with excitement as it opened fully. I threw myself through it and ended up head-first in a pile of leaves and sticks.

“Ow! A fucking bush?”

I tried to make as little noise as possible while disentangling myself from the spindly branches, swallowing back a few yelps in the process. Eventually, I landed on the grass on the other side.

After finding my feet, I headed across the patio and ran across the grass with no idea where the hell I was heading. My initial excitement at escaping the house was short lived when after a few short minutes of running I was greeted by an imposing eight-foot-tall brick wall.

Bollocks.

There was definitely no way I was getting over that monstrosity, so I followed it around hoping it would finally lead to a gate or entry point of some kind. After walking a while and seeing nothing, I came across a break in the brickwork. It was a solid double gate, positioned at the end of a tarmacked road leading away from the house.

Knowing I needed to move quick to avoid detection, I felt for any ridges I could get a leg over. To my dismay, the wood was totally smooth.

With climbing over it out of the picture, I dropped to the floor to see if I could squeeze myself under—I fit, but just barely. It was going to be tight, but not impossible.

I tossed the duffle bag over the top of the gate and edged my way under, scraping myself along the tarmac and stones. I wiggled myself free on the other side and stood up, brushing away all the dirt as I turned to face the road.

“Good evening.”

“Fuck!” I screeched, jumping out of my skin.

Jesse was leaning causally against the front of an all-black armored Mercedes G-Wagon, parked up not five feet from the gate.

The engine wasn’t even running—like he had been there for a while.

“You do realize that the gate was unlocked, right?” He laughed, clearly enjoying himself.

“Yeah right.” I sighed and picked up my bag up from the floor.

My escape plan was foiled. Bitter disappointment weighed on my shoulders.

“It was. I opened it for you to see what you’d do.” He chuckled.

“Just shut up.”

He walked around to the passenger side of the car and opened the door, gesturing with a hand for me to get in.

“Get in, Bandit. I’ll take you back.”

I scowled at the new nickname and tossed him my bag, getting into the SUV before slamming the door behind me. A few moments passed before Jesse climbed into the driver’s seat, shaking with laughter.

“Something funny?” I demanded, turning my whole body to face him as he turned the key.

“Your get-away bag literally has nothing but handbags in it.” He eventually managed to get out.

“They are Chanel handbags! What was I supposed to do?” I answered furiously as he started the car.

With a ghost of a smile lingering on his lips, he pressed a button on the dash and the gates swung open to allow us to pass. We followed the tarmac up a slight incline for a couple of minutes until the front of the house came into view, illuminated by hundreds of exterior lights.

I say house, but in reality, it resembled a palace much more than any house I’d ever seen. It was regal to an intimidating degree. A beige stone palace right smack in… Where the hell was I? Whoever Don La Torre was, he almost certainly had more money than God.

The SUV rolled to a stop in front of a stone portico that framed the main entrance. I sighed, resigning myself to the fact that I wouldn’t be leaving the house again for God-knows how long… maybe not ever . Something clutched painfully at my chest.

I might die here.

The realization that my death was a not just possible but potentially inevitable, hit me like a bucket of ice. Whether my ransom was paid or not, whether my ruse was believed or not, my odds of getting out of this situation alive were slim to none. And based on the apathetical Don that lived behind these walls, there was a chance I was already living on borrowed time.

Attempting to run away was surely a punishable offence by the Don’s standard, ransom or not. What was going to happen to me now?

Nausea rolled in my stomach and my ears rang painfully.

“Are you going to get out? The front door is unlocked,” Jesse prompted.

“I-I—" My chest constricted again, and I couldn’t catch a breath.

I started shaking uncontrollably, and black spots danced in my vision. My breathing coming in fits and starts—a panic attack. I was having a panic attack.

Out of my periphery I saw Jesse jump out of the car but barely recognized I was being moved until he was crouched in front of me through my now open door. His mouth was opening as if he were speaking, but I couldn’t make out the words over the incessant ringing in my ears and fear clutching at my chest.

I glanced at the intimidating man before me, his hands capturing mine as he tried to get my attention. Trying to calm me.

With a harsh tug on my hands, I finally began hearing his voice amongst the suffocating silence, “Look at me, Adalyn. Everything is okay. You are well. You are safe.” He kept repeating the words over and over.

I concentrated on his voice, slowing my breathing to the words until the tightness in my chest subsided enough that I could let in a breath of air. Slowly, my breathing became steadier and stronger as the seconds wore on. The tightness lifting infinitesimally with each breath.

When my head cleared and my senses eventually returned, I looked down at our entangled hands in embarrassment.

“I’m sorry. That was pathetic.” I croaked, pulling my hands away and swatting some of my escaped tears.

“Not pathetic.”

“Yeah, it is. I don’t know what happened.” I admitted. “I think it just hit me that I’m probably going to die here. Or worse.” I shrugged, faking nonchalance with the statement.

Jesse just chuckled and shook his head as he stood up.

“You aren’t going to die here or anything else.” He said seriously. “Don La Torre is not a monster.”

I laughed in disbelief. “You don’t know Don’s very well then.”

“I’d say I do. The Boss and I grew up together and I knew his late father very well too. Marco is no monster.” He pulled the door wider and gestured exaggeratedly between the SUV and the entryway. “Now are you going to get your ass out of my car or are you planning on running away again?”

I climbed down from my seat and walked back into the house dejectedly.

I turned just before I started up the stairs to my room.

“Jesse,” I called after the retreating man’s form already halfway across the foyer, heading further into the house.

He paused. “What, Bandit?”

“Thank you for helping me…in the car.”

He winked and smiled up at me. “No problem. Saving damsels in distress is kinda my thing. Now get your ass in bed before you get into any more trouble.”

I nodded and did as he suggested, going back to my room.

I immediately stripped off my clothes and crawled under the silk sheets.

Well, that didn’t go to plan. I thought bitterly.

Although my escape attempt had been a colossal failure, it had given me comfort to know that at least someone here seemed friendly… Perhaps even kind.

I tried to ignore the voice that told me that that someone also happened to be best friends with my captor.