The Mafia Boss’s Feisty Captive

CHAPTER 3

ISABEL’s POV

They dragged me like I was just some sack of trash they were tossing out. I screamed, kicked, fought with everything I had. But it didn’t matter. These guys were built like walking tanks.

“Let me go, you damn cowards!” I spat.

One of them made the mistake of getting too close. I turned my head and bit him, hard. I mean, I sunk my teeth into his skin like I was starving. He yelled, stumbling back, holding his arm like I had ripped it off.

For a second, I felt proud. Then came the slap.

My ears rang. My lips stung. I felt my body sway, barely keeping upright.

“Take her now! Giorgio’s waiting, and you know the boss hates delays,” one of them growled.

Giorgio.

That name. The same man who practically owned the biggest clubs in the city and the one I apparently now owed my life to for a stupid loan.

Before I could talk back, they shoved me into a black SUV. I hit the seat hard, my head bumping against the window.

“Where are you taking me?” I hissed, trying to gather myself.

“Shut the hell up,” the one in the middle barked.

I glanced at him. Scar down his cheek, jaw like stone, eyes empty. This wasn’t a guy who made threats just to sound scary.

Okay, Isabel. Zip it. Don’t test the psycho.

I stayed quiet and decided to stare out the window, but nothing looked familiar. They were taking me somewhere off-grid. Somewhere I’d probably never walk out from.

The air in the car smelled like smoke, sweat, and gunpowder. I wanted to gag. I turned away from them, pressing my forehead against the cool glass.

After what felt like forever, the car skidded to a stop. No warning. Just brakes screeching and my body flying forward with a jolt.

“What the hell?!” I snapped.

“Watch your mouth,” one of them growled. “Talk again, and I’ll shut you up for good.”

They yanked me out of the car again. My arms ached from how tight they gripped me. I tried to stand straight, to walk on my own, but they didn’t give me the chance.

They dragged me to a club. But not just any club , the club. Flashy. Fancy. Rich people type of fancy.

Why the hell would they bring me here?

They didn’t say a word. Just kept dragging me. We went through the back entrance. People like me don’t get to walk through the front.

As soon as we stepped inside, I heard loud music. My ears rang. I winced. I had never liked clubs, too loud, too many people pretending to be someone they are not. And tonight? I wasn’t in the mood for any of it.

They pulled me through the halls and into a small, dark room lit by one dying bulb and locking me in alone.

I hated it.

“Let me out of here!” I shouted, banging on the locked door.

Nothing.

The air kept closing in on me like the walls were shrinking. I dropped into a dusty chair in the corner, legs weak. Yeah, I knew better than to waste energy fighting what I couldn’t control. Not yet.

Why am I here? What the hell do they want from me now?

“Hey, sweetheart.”

I heard a voice say.

My eyes flew open. A tall man stood in front of me, dressed nice. black-on-black suit, slicked-back hair, and a smirk that screamed trouble.

This is Giorgio.

I sat up fast. My palms were sweaty, but I didn’t let him see fear. Not yet.

“When exactly were you planning to pay me, pretty girl?” he asked gently like he already knew the answer.

I opened my mouth, trying to sound brave. “I am working on it. I swear. Just give me a little more time.”

He laughed. Not the good kind.

“Time?” he repeated. “You think time is what I’m short on? No, baby. I’m short on patience.”

Great. A smooth-talking psycho.

“If I don’t get my money,” he continued, stepping closer, “then you get to be. useful in other ways.”

He snapped his fingers.

“Dress her up,” he told his men. “White dress. Short. Tight. Make her shine on that floor tonight.”

“What?!” I spat, standing up. “You’re not serious.”

“Oh, I am dead serious.” His eyes got dark . “Tonight, you entertain my guests. Smile, flirt, do whatever it takes. You want to pay off your debt? Start earning.”

One of the goons grabbed my arm.

“Is am not doing this!” I yelled, yanking back. “You can’t make me!”

He didn’t seem angry. He looked intrigued.

“I like that fight in you,” he said, walking closer. “Most girls cry by now.”

He reached out, fingers brushing over my side.

I shoved him. Hard.

And then

Slap.

His hand cracked across my face, sending my head spinning.

"Next time, don't test me like that again," Giorgio warned.

At this point, I had no energy left to fight. My body felt like jelly, and my pride had taken a serious beating. The men hauled me away, and I didn’t resist. What was the point?

"Make sure she works off every damn dollar," Giorgio growled behind me. "She doesn’t leave until the debt is fully paid."

They dragged me toward a corner table where six sleazy, middle-aged men sat, puffing cigars like they owned the world. Beer guts pushed against their tight shirts, and their eyes, hungry and unapologetic, ran over me like I was some toy up for grabs.

I wanted to puke.

"Hey there, baby girl!" one of them called out, smacking his lips like I was something off a damn menu.

I didn’t move. .

“You deaf or something?” another one barked and shoved me forward.

I stumbled and fell, landing right in front of the creep who's called me. Before I could scramble away, his disgusting hand grabbed a handful of my ass like it was his right.

My mouth dropped open. Shock hit first. Then rage. Pure rage.

But before I could react, I heard a loud crash outside followed by gunshots.

What the hell.

The club door slammed open, and chaos broke out .

About a dozen men rushed in, guns drawn, eyes cold. They weren’t security. They were something else. Trained and Dangerous.

They moved like shadows, taking down the bouncers and staff like they were flies.

I quickly ducked in a corner afraid I would get hit by a gun, shaking for my life.

The chaos soon died down and I heard that voice. “Where’s my money Giorgio?”

I turned my head to the direction , and there he was.

Freaking Xavier!!!

Yes. That Xavier.

The one I’d only ever heard about in whispers. The Mafia boss people were too scared to even name. And now he was standing ten feet away from me, dressed in a black suit, calm as ever, like he wasn’t surrounded by chaos.

So this is what he really looks like? I had seen his face a few times in the media, but seeing him in person, damn, he was something else. Really something..

Giorgio's face went pale. Before I could blink, he was on the floor, bloody and coughing. His men didn’t even try to help. Smart move.

I was frozen, watching as the arrogant bastard who’d been barking orders minutes ago now begged like a dog.

And, I won’t lie, I felt a weird kind of satisfaction watching him get what was coming. He tried negotiate with Xavier.

Then it happened.

One of Giorgio's men grabbed me and shoved me forward like some cheap offering. "Here! You can take her, sir. Entertain yourself for the night.."

Wait what?!

Did he really just throw me at the mafia boss like I was part of the damn furniture?

Xavier actually glanced at me. His eyes were emotionless . It felt like he was sizing me up, maybe even checking me out but then, just like that, he looked away. Completely uninterested

And then stupid Giorgio , he actually tried to rip my dress.

That was it. I slapped him so hard across the face

My eyes darted to the man standing closest. He had a gun holstered at his side. In one swift move, I snatched it.

Before anyone could stop me, I pointed it straight at Giorgios head.

Everyone froze.

“Don’t move,” I warned, my hands trembling slightly. “I swear, I’ll blow your head off if you touch me again.”

From the corner of my eye, I saw Xavier move..

And just like that desperation won.

I did something that could’ve ended with my face on a missing person poster. I pointed the damn gun at Xavier. TheXavier. The most feared name in the country . Yeah, I’d completely lost it.

“Let me go or I swear” I said, sounding a lot braver than I felt. What was I thinking? Oh, right, I wasn’t. Adrenaline had hijacked my common sense.

He turned to me, like a wolf sizing up a clueless rabbit. “Tell me,” he said coolly, “do you even know how to use that thing?”

My whole body trembled. Of course I didn’t. I’d never even pulled a trigger in my life. But I couldn’t let him know that. Not now.

“You are about to find out if you don't let me go,” I snapped back, trying to keep my voice from shaking.

He smiled.

Not the nice kind.

It was the type of smile that made you question every life choice you had ever made. The kind of smile that said,

He stood up, taking a step toward me. Then another.

I held the gun tighter, my hands sweaty and weak. He didn’t even flinch.

“Stay back!” I shouted, but my voice cracked, giving away just how scared I really was.

He kept walking.

I could feel the power he carried, like it clung to the air around him. It wasn't just intimidating, it was overwhelming. Every step he took made my heart beat faster.

“I am serious! I will shoot!”

And then bam, he moved. One second, the gun was in my hand. The next, it wasn’t. He’d grabbed it so fast, I didn’t even register it until he was popping the bullets out and letting them hit the floor one by one.

Tink. Tink. Tink.

Then, without a care in the world, he tossed the empty gun aside like it meant nothing.

I turned around, tried to run but his hand shot out and grabbed my wrist tight. In one pull, I slammed into his chest.

His grip was like iron. His chest? Solid. Way too solid. I was so close to him, I could feel every breath he took. Smell the faint hint of expensive cologne on his skin.

His face was right there. Inches from mine. Carved jaw, deadly eyes, lips that looked like they could kiss you and kill you in the same breath.

And in that moment. I hated how good he looked. It was annoying. No one had the right to look that good and be that dangerous.

“What’s your name?” he asked, like this was some casual meet-cute and not a full-blown hostage situation.

“Get your hands off me!” I barked, yanking at my arm.

He didn’t flinch. Didn’t even blink.

I swung my hand at his face, ready to slap. But he caught it in mid-air like he was swatting a fly. His fingers tightened around my wrist. A c**k smirk at the corner of his lips.

“I’ll let the gun slide,” he said. “But hitting me? That’s not something you walk away from without a price.”

My heart skipped. “What?”

“You heard me,” he replied, eyes trailing down my face like he was memorizing it. And then his fingers were on me again. He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, letting his touch stay just a little too long against my skin. My jaw. My lips.

“You’re spicy,” he muttered. “Not like the women I keep around. But I like a little fire”

Then he pulled back, finally letting go, and turned toward his men like I no longer existed.

“What should we do with Giorgio?” one of them asked.

Xavier didn’t even pause. “Cut off his hand. Just one for now. If he’s still broke in seven days, take the other. I don’t like being owed.”

And then he turned back to me, eyes darker now. “And her? She’s coming with me.” He smiled faintly. “She’s mine now.”