Taken by the mafia boss

Chapter 3

LIAM

Exuding an air of elegance, class, and raw power has always been our trademark. From my ancestors, who possessed an insatiable drive for dominance, to my father and now myself, the pursuit of greatness flows through our veins.

Love and affection, often deemed as vulnerabilities, were never meant to be displayed openly. It was a steadfast rule, etched into our very being. Never allow oneself to become emotionally invested in a single woman. Yet, I was destined to defy conventions; it was what I excelled at.

The enchanting young woman I encountered at yesterday's auction held me captive with her mere presence. In that fleeting moment, I sensed that I was about to shatter the rule I had held dear for so long. I yearned to spend the entire day engrossed in conversation with her, but Badok reminded me of our primary objective: to steal.

The truth dawned on me as I absorbed the information. Every single item auctioned off the previous day had been nothing more than cleverly crafted replicas, mere imitations of their original counterparts. We had successfully executed our audacious plan of theft, substituting the genuine diamonds with deceptive fakes. While I engaged in conversation with the captivating young woman, Badok discreetly relayed the news that our preparations were complete, and it was time to make our exit.

Almost instinctively, I exchanged contact information with her, extending an invitation for lunch. It was a reflexive action driven by an overwhelming desire to see her again. Her name was Samantha Urch, and the mere thought of her left me suspended in anticipation. However, neither of us took the initiative to reach out. We were locked in a standoff, both stubbornly waiting for the other to break the silence.

But in the grand scheme of things, who really cared? My mind was resolute. Samantha Urch was what I desired, and I was determined to have her. The world seemed to fade into the background as my thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a knock on my door. Redirecting my attention away from the captivating artwork adorning the walls, I adjusted my cufflinks and granted permission for the intruder to enter.

Badok, my trusted confidant and second-in-command, pushed open the door, his composed demeanor contrasting with the air of danger that clung to his black attire, from his sleek black tie to his polished black Versace shoes. "The ushers have arrived," he announced.

A surge of anticipation coursed through me as I realized Samantha had indeed made it here tonight. I hadn't merely made a request; I had taken it upon myself to order Sharon, ensuring Samantha's presence among the ushers. "I'll join them shortly. Have you briefed them on the rules?" I inquired.

In this labyrinthine mansion, I held a simple yet crucial rule: never venture beyond the grandeur hall. This place concealed numerous secrets, and it was far less captivating to eliminate someone for witnessing that which they ought not to see.

"Cent is already attending to it," Badok assured me, handing me my gun. His voice lowered as he inquired, "Did you specifically request that young lady?"

I could sense the knowing gaze in his eyes, reminding me of the night I was caught in Samantha's enchanting presence. Suppressing a surge of irritation, I retorted, "How about you keep your unsolicited opinions to yourself, Badok? Know your place. I'd hate to remind you."

He raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, acknowledging my authority, and together we departed from the confines of the library. "The guests have already begun to arrive, but your father wishes to speak with you before gracing them with his presence," Badok informed me.

My relationship with my father lacked any semblance of closeness; like everyone else, I perceived him solely as the former Capo—nothing more, nothing less. "Did he specify the reason for summoning me?" I inquired, curious yet detached.

"That wasn't much of a request, but no, he didn't provide any details. He simply instructed me to fetch you," he admitted, his words laced with a hint of apprehension.

To fetch me? I scowled at him.

"Please don't kill the messenger. Those were his words, not mine."

I am no longer just Liam, the heir apparent; I had ascended to the position of Capo. If my father believed he could summon my men to fetch me like a subordinate, he had yet to grasp the current dynamics of power within our domain. "Inform him," I asserted firmly, my voice laced with an undercurrent of authority, "that whatever he wishes to discuss will have to wait until I have concluded matters with my guests. If it is truly urgent, he knows where to find me."

Badok's eyes widened momentarily, his double blink mirroring his surprise. "You genuinely want me to convey that message to your father?" he inquired, his tone tinged with both incredulity and a trace of concern.

My silence served as the resolute answer to his question. "Jesus! You're well aware of how temperamental your father can be. I don't want to limp for a month," he muttered under his breath. My piercing glare silenced him instantly. "You're just as unyielding as he is," he grumbled, exhaling audibly before turning on his heels. Undoubtedly, he sought another emissary to deliver my message to my father.

Beyond the threshold of this door lay the realm where the woman who had captivated my every thought awaited. The mere anticipation of beholding her once more, gazing into her captivating green eyes brimming with curiosity and mischief, and feeling the allure of her rosebud lips sent a surge of exhilaration coursing through my veins.

Taking a deliberate deep breath, I grasped the doorknob with a sense of purpose and swung the door open. A sea of unfamiliar yet striking faces greeted my eyes, but my gaze was drawn like a magnet to a particular wild cascade of curly hair. Upon finding her, a vexing mixture of anger and jealousy swelled within me as I observed the unwelcome attention bestowed upon her by other men.

"Good evening, Mr. Gates.”

Sharon, a poised and elegant young woman, had meticulously groomed these individuals into exceptional ushers. It was impressive to witness someone shouldering such significant responsibilities at such a tender age.

"Ms. Ukah, I trust my team has already informed you of my foremost rule?" I inquired, my gaze momentarily drifting in search of the lady with the untamed curls. Thankfully, I spotted her engaged in conversation with another young woman.

"You can trust us, sir. At Swiss Ushers, we hold utmost respect for boundaries and understand the importance of trust," she assured me with confidence.

I could only hope that Samantha truly comprehended the significance of those words. It seemed as if she sensed my scrutinizing gaze, for she lifted her eyes, scanning the room until they eventually locked with mine. In that fleeting moment of connection, she swiftly averted her gaze, causing a soft chuckle to escape my lips.

As Samantha's friend whispered something into her ear and attempted to pull her away, she shook her head resolutely, retracting her hand from her friend's grasp. Clearing my throat to command attention, I addressed Sharon. "If you'll excuse me, I need to have a word with one of your team members." Sharon didn't appear surprised by my request, nor did she make any attempt to impede me.

As I made my way towards Samantha, the bustling crowd continued to mind their own affairs. Ushers gracefully guided guests to their designated seats, while waiters elegantly served champagne to those already seated. With deliberate, imposing strides, I positioned myself behind Samantha, my imposing figure shielding her from the prying eyes of many.

I could sense that she was aware of my presence; her stiffened yet composed posture betrayed her reaction. However, for reasons known only to her, she adamantly refused to turn around or acknowledge my existence.

Closing the distance between us, I leaned forward, my chest lightly brushing against her back, causing her to tense even more. "Samantha Urch," I whispered, my breath warm against her ear. "Why do you avoid me?"

Finally acknowledging that my presence was not one she could dismiss, she pivoted on her heel, taking a step back to create some distance between us. I closed the gap with a single stride, my determined gaze fixed upon her. "Mr. Gates, it's good to see you," she replied, her voice laced with a mixture of cordiality and an underlying sense of guardedness.

I arched an eyebrow, skepticism etching into my features as Samantha's words hung in the air. "Is it?" I questioned, my tone tinged with a mix of curiosity and challenge. "Your actions speak louder than your words, Samantha." She bit her lips as her eyes darted anxiously around the room, seemingly searching for an escape. Unable to resist the magnetic pull of her lips, my hand instinctively rose, tracing my knuckles along her cheek, gently freeing her lips from the clutches of her teeth. "If you persist, you'll draw blood."

My words seemed to jolt her out of her momentary trance. She instinctively took a step back, and this time, I respected her need for space. "What do you think you're doing, Mr. Gates? Engaging in a conversation with the host is against the rules," she protested.

"Call me Liam," I asserted, an undercurrent of frustration simmering beneath my words. It irked me that she insisted on maintaining a formal tone in our dialogue. "Rules hold little importance to me, and somehow, I sense you share a similar sentiment."

Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips, a nervous gesture that didn't escape my notice. "Look, I apologize, Mr. Gates, for giving you the impression that I share your disregard for rules," she replied, her voice tinged with a mix of regret and determination. She drew a deep breath, her brows furrowing as she gestured between us. "This," she continued, her hands gesturing emphatically, "whatever this is, it's over. It's not worth jeopardizing my job."

I paused for a moment, the intensity of my gaze fixed on Samantha. "Oh, this is far from over," I murmured, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of my lips. However, for now, I would refrain from pushing her too hard. Patience could be a valuable weapon in this game.

Before I could delve further into our conversation, Badok's voice broke the momentary connection between Samantha and me. "Boss man," he called out from behind. "He's here."

Leaning in closer to Samantha, a teasing smile playing on my lips, I whispered, "In my life, there are few things I desire, and you, Samantha Urch, are among those things." With a gentle caress of my thumb against her lower lip, I added, "This is just the beginning."

Without turning back to look at her, I confidently strode away, but even in my departure, I could sense the undeniable current of s****l tension that lingered between us. I was certain that she needed me just as much as I needed her.

Entering the rear section of the house, my attention shifted to the almost unconscious young man sprawled on the floor. "Where did you find him?" I inquired, my eyes fixed upon Badok.

"At the port, it seems he was waiting to board a ship," Badok replied, his voice holding a hint of amusement.

"Trying to abscond with my prized possessions, are we, Jonas?" the young man whimpered, beads of sweat forming on his forehead, but I met his gaze with an icy indifference. As I tapped my impatient foot, I pondered what emboldened this audacious fellow to commit such a brazen act.

Stealing from me was not only an annoyance but also a grave insult—one that I did not take lightly. "I'll spare you the pleasantries, Jonas, as I have a pressing engagement to attend. Where are my precious diamonds?" I demanded, my voice laced with a simmering anger.

"I don't know..." he stammered, his voice thick with deception. "You have to believe me, sir... I'm innocent and have no involvement in the disappearance of your diamonds."

Just then, my father appeared, his imposing figure casting a shadow over the tense scene. Sensing the gravity of the situation, I swiftly attached a silencer to the barrel of my gun, intensifying the weight of my gaze upon Jonas. "I will ask you one final time, Jonas. Where are my diamonds?" I uttered, my tone seething with menace.

"I swear on my mother's grave, sir... I truly don't know..." he pleaded, his voice quivering. "I'm not—" Before he could finish his feeble denial, I pulled the trigger, the gunshot shattering the silence of the night. The bullet found its mark, striking his left thigh, and an agonized cry tore through the air, mingling with the darkness. "It's not me... It's Luke... He orchestrated the entire scheme... He knows the whereabouts of the diamonds."

Clifford, my father, let out an exasperated huff at the young man's swift surrender. Like me, he had anticipated a struggle, but it seemed this man was more of a coward than we had assumed.

Raising my gun once more, I took aim and fired, this time delivering a fatal shot to the man's chest, extinguishing his life in an instant. Thanks to the silencer, the only sound that followed was a faint crash from behind the nearby crates. Badok, my loyal companion, exchanged a glance with me before cautiously approaching the crates, his firearm at the ready.

"I suggest you reveal yourself before I give the order to open fire," I called out, attempting to coax out whoever was hiding in the shadows.

We all stood there in tense anticipation, awaiting the appearance of the intruder. And when the figure finally emerged, a mix of fear and anger surged through me, constricting my chest. It was Samantha.

"Seems like the message didn't quite reach you, did it?" Clifford grumbled, his voice raspy, as he headed back towards the house. "Handle this swiftly and return to the party. Don't let this ruin your mother's special day."

I knew exactly what he meant by "handle this." He wanted me to silence Samantha permanently. "Why can't you ever listen, Samantha?" I uttered, my voice heavy with frustration.

She attempted to plead her case, but her voice faltered, and tears streamed down her cheeks. In that moment, I realized I couldn't bring myself to do it. However, I also couldn't allow her to live, jeopardizing our secret.

Raising my gun once more, I aimed it at her, locking eyes with her desperate gaze, and fired two shots into the chilling emptiness of the night.