Claimed in the Mafia Bargain

Chapter Three

Alexia

I woke up to the feeling of being broken apart and hastily put back together.

A groan escaped my lips before I could stop it, my body protesting as I tried to shift on the mattress that felt like sleeping on a cloud. Every inch of me ached, a dull, throbbing soreness that settled deep in my bones and between my thighs, a relentless reminder of the storm that had ravaged me just hours ago.

I reached out, my hand brushing against cold, empty sheets. I turned towards the side, he was gone.

I sat up, clutching the silk duvet to my chest as the memories of the night came rushing back, hitting me harder than the headache brewing behind my eyes. I remembered the way he had looked at me when the transfer went through—twenty thousand dollars, the exact amount I had demanded, appearing in my account before he even touched me. He had kept his word, but the moment the transaction cleared, the man who had been calm and terrifyingly composed vanished, replaced by something feral.

He had been brutal, his hands possessive, his mouth demanding everything I had and more, until he realized, then stopped.

I closed my eyes, a flush heating my cheeks as I replayed the moment he froze, his body tense over mine.

“Untouched, hmm?” he growled, sounding almost angry, ready to pull away. But I was suddenly desperate, not just for the money, but for something I hadn't felt before.

“Don't stop,” I whispered, pleading with him.

His lips stretched, “Cara Mia, I wouldn't have stopped even if you begged me to,” he pulled me closer, his eyes buried in mine, “you can't come to me and return just as you came.”

And he hadn't. He had been gentle then, dangerously so, unraveling me with a terrifying patience before the beast returned, taking me with a hardness that left me breathless and shaking.

I winced as I swung my legs off the bed, spotting a neat pile of clothes folded on the end of the mattress. A simple dress, elegant but understated, and definitely not the cheap, see-through thing I had worn in.

There was no note, no lingering scent of his cologne. Just the silence of the massive penthouse suite and the notification on my phone that proved I hadn't dreamed it all.

***

"I'm here to clear the deposit for Leo West," I told the woman behind the glass, sliding my debit card across the counter.

Her eyes widened slightly as she processed the payment, the receipt printing with a mechanical whir that sounded like music to my ears. "Everything is in order, Ms. West. We've allocated a slot for his surgery tomorrow morning. You can go see him."

I let out a breath I felt like I’d been holding since I got the call about my brother's accident. My legs carried me toward the ICU with renewed strength.

Leo was asleep, looking small and pale amidst the wires and machines, but he was still breathing. I stood by his bedside for a long time, just watching the steady rise and fall of his chest, knowing that I had bought him this chance. I had sold myself to a devil in a white shirt, but looking at my brother, I knew I would do it again in a heartbeat.

"You're going to be okay," I whispered, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "I fixed it."

I couldn't stay long, not with my shift at the diner starting in an hour, so I squeezed his hand one last time and walked out into the bright morning sun, feeling lighter than I had in days.

I flagged down a yellow cab, sliding into the backseat and giving the driver the address of the restaurant I worked at. As the city blurred past the window, I allowed myself a small, victorious smile.

It was over.

Rafael’s voice still echoed in my head, dark and possessive, telling me I was his, claiming me in a way that made my skin prickle, but that was just s*x talk. It was just the heat of the moment, the words men used to feel powerful.

I would never see him again. I would go back to waiting tables, pay off the rest of our debts slowly, and pretend that night never happened.

My phone rang, cutting through my thoughts.

I frowned, pulling it out of my bag. Unknown Number.

"Hello?" I answered, my voice tentative.

"Alexia."

The voice was sharp, professional, and unmistakably familiar. Madam Nadia.

My blood ran cold. What if…

"Madam Nadia," I choked out, my grip on the phone tightening. "Is there any problem?"

"Come to the agency. Now," she ordered, her tone clipping off any more enquiries. “And don't you dare think of running away, you know how brutal the consequences of that action would be.”

The line went dead.

Panic exploded in my chest. She knew.

She knew I had stolen the key, knew I had switched places with the girl in green. I was going to be blacklisted, maybe even arrested. I had signed a contract, and I had breached it the moment I walked into the penthouse.

"Sir?" I told the driver, my voice trembling. "Take me to the Meatpacking District, please."

***

"He doesn't want another night, Alexia. He has requested an exclusive contract. He wants to keep you."

"What?"

"What!"

I said the first one; the second exploded from the girl in the green dress—the one whose key I had stolen last night.

Nadia swallowed, her hands circling the black file on her desk before she shoved it toward me. "If Don Rafael Cruz wants you, I have nothing to do except persuade you to accept."

I stared at her blankly, my brain misfiring. Don? Since when did people in New York call themselves Don?

But before I could even reach for the file, the green girl snatched it off the desk. She ripped it open, her eyes widening in extreme shock and anger as she scanned the pages.

"This is insane!" she screamed, slapping the papers. "I don't believe this. He only had me once and now he wants her permanently? I've been the one going to him, yet he never gave me a contract like this. I had to reapply every f*****g time!"

"Lanie..." Nadia warned, her voice low.

"Don't!" The girl glared at me with pure venom before turning her gaze back to the papers, her hands shaking. "Don't call my name. I need to see Rafael! f**k me, I don't even know his other name yet he's inviting her already to his home? f**k! f**k!"

I only stared, still trying to understand what was going on. Who invited who to his home? Me?

I scoffed. What does that egotistical bastard think he is, huh? Do I look like some slut he could buy over? What? An exclusive contract? Like a car lease?

"You can have the contract," I said gently.

Nadia and the girl—what was her name again? Lanie—looked at me, stunned, as if I had said the most ridiculous thing ever spoken in this room. The silence stretched, heavy and confused.

"What?" Nadia asked, blinking rapidly after the shock wore off.

I stared at her, shrugging. "Why do you look surprised?" I asked. "Aren't contracts meant to be rejected or accepted?"

"So?" Nadia asked again, her voice pitching up. "You're rejecting Don Rafael Cruz?"

"Yes," I said, glancing at the paper in Lanie’s hand. "Isn't that his name? Tell Mr. Cruz I'm not a slut or some object that could be bought. I only needed him for a night and that's all."

I turned my stare to Lanie. "Keep the contract or do whatever it is you want with it. I'm out of here."

I turned on my heel and walked toward the door.

"Alexia!"

Nadia’s voice rang out, causing me to stop. I turned back to look at her, she had a look of shock, confusion, and blatant fear in her eyes—like I had just pulled the pin on a grenade and left it on her desk.

"Don Cruz isn't to be rejected," she whispered.

I furrowed my brows. "Says who?" I asked. "I'm not interested and I won't be. And can you stop calling him Don or whatever? This isn't a novel, it's real life, and Dons only exist in books."

I didn't wait for an answer.

"Good day."

I pushed the doors open and walked out into the sunlight, still reeling from the fact that I wasn't called to be reprimanded for swapping a key, but to be offered some exclusive bullshit!