The Mafia's Captive Heart

Alessia Pov "Argh..." I moaned hard, my voice muffled by the pillow, as Julian held my arms, his grip unyielding. His second hand grasped my hair, gently yet firmly, turning my head downward, pressing my face into the bed. His body loomed over mine, his weight pinning me down. His thrusts were relentless, each stroke sending waves of pleasure through me. I felt helpless, at his mercy, and yet, I craved this. Craved him. "Julian..." I whispered, my voice barely audible. His response was a low growl, his lips grazing my ear. "You're mine, Alessia. Only mine." His words sent shivers down my spine. I felt claimed, possessed, and yet, I couldn't deny the thrill that coursed through me. As he continued to move inside me, I felt my body respond, my muscles tensing, my senses heightening. The room around us melted away, leaving only the two of us, lost in this dance of desire. "Come for me, Alessia," Julian whispered, his voice husky, his breath hot against my skin. My body obeyed, surrendering to the pleasure that built inside me. I cried out, my voice lost in the pillow, as Julian's thrusts grew more insistent, more demanding. Julian's release was explosive, his warmth filling me. He stayed buried deep, his chest heaving behind mine. Finally, he pulled out, his eyes locking onto mine as he delivered a sharp spank to my ass. Julian's fingers traced my spine, sending shivers down my back.. As Julian withdrew from me, I felt a pang of emptiness. He didn't linger or cuddle; instead, he swiftly got out of bed and headed to the bathroom. The sound of the door closing behind him became all too familiar. It had become his routine: every time we made love, he'd immediately retreat to the bathroom. The sound of running water filled the silence. I lay still, listening to the water cascade, feeling the tears well up in my eyes. The tears streamed down my face, unchecked and silent. The bathroom door creaked open, and Julian emerged, his physique gleaming with droplets of water. I watched, still tearful, as Julian returned to his usual routine. Without a word, he strode to the cupboard and selected a crisp suit. His movements were efficient, detached. He dressed, each gesture precise, no lingering glances or tender touches. Julian headed for the door, his footsteps echoing through the room. No goodbye, no reassurance, just silence. As the door closed behind him, I let out a shuddering breath. The tears I'd held back flowed freely now. I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, the weight of my reality settling in. Julian and I didn't have a marriage; we had a transaction. A contract sealed with a ring and a promise of protection. I'd known what I was getting into when I married him. The whispers about Julian's reputation had reached me – ruthless Mafia warlord, feared by all. No one knew much about his family, only that he was a machine, a tool used by the various Mafia houses for their dirty work. But my family needed him. We'd been drowning in debt, and Julian's offer had been our only lifeline. Safety and security in exchange for my hand in marriage. The only time we bridged the gap between us was in bed. Passionate, intense, and fleeting. Afterward, Julian would retreat, leaving me with this hollow feeling. I knew better than to expect conversation, affection, or love. Our arrangement was clear. I settled back into bed, exhaustion washing over me. The encounter with Julian had left me drained, emotionally and physically. I needed a brief respite before facing the day. **** **** ******* ********* *********** ******** As I stepped out of the house, the sound of honking greeted me. My friend, Rachel, sat behind the wheel, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Running late, aren't you?" she teased, gesturing to the clock on the dashboard. I rushed toward the car, my apology tumbling out. "I'm so sorry! I lost track of time." Rachel raised an eyebrow. "Or did Julian keep you occupied?" I shot her a warning glance, silencing her. Our friendship was built on trust, but some secrets were too delicate to share. "Let's go," I urged, buckling my seatbelt. "I don't want to be late for Dr. John's surgery." Rachel nodded, navigating through the morning traffic. "You know how particular he is about his team." I took a deep breath, focusing on the day ahead. Assisting Dr. John in surgery would require my full attention. As we drove, Rachel's chatter filled the silence, a welcome distraction from my thoughts. As I stepped out of the car, the warm sunlight danced across my face, illuminating my features. I was accustomed to the admiring glances, the lingering stares. My tall, slender frame, porcelain skin, and raven-black hair drew attention. People couldn't help but look. I'd grown indifferent to the constant gazes, the whispered comments. It was a familiar accompaniment to my daily routine. Rachel smiled knowingly. "You're going to turn heads, as usual." I rolled my eyes good-naturedly. "Let's focus on the surgery." We walked toward the entrance of St. Michael's Hospital, where I worked as an anesthesiologist. The automatic doors slid open, and the antiseptic scent enveloped us. As we made our way to the locker room, colleagues nodded in greeting. I exchanged pleasantries, my mind already shifting to the task at hand. Dr. John awaited my arrival in the operating theater. Our patient, Mrs. Jenkins, required a delicate procedure. I changed quickly, my focus narrowing to the challenge ahead. I trudged out of the operating theater, exhaustion etched on my face. The surgery had been a success, but the hours of concentration had taken their toll. I headed to the vending machine, craving a caffeine boost. The hum of the machine provided a brief respite from the sterile hospital atmosphere. As I waited for my coffee, I leaned against the wall, letting my eyes close for a moment. The adrenaline rush had faded, leaving me drained. The hiss of the vending machine broke the silence. I retrieved my coffee and took a sip, feeling the warmth spread through my veins. As I lifted the cup to my lips, a familiar scenario unfolded. A tall, charming stranger approached me, his eyes locked on mine. "Hello," he said, his voice smooth. I preempted his advance, my tone polite but firm. "Hello. I'm married." The stranger's smile faltered, but he didn't back down. "That's a shame. You deserve to be happy." I raised an eyebrow, wary of his persistence. "I am happy." Undeterred, he continued, "Can I get you another cup of coffee? Perhaps we could—" I cut him off, my patience worn thin. "No, thank you. Excuse me." With a swift turn, I walked away, leaving the stranger standing alone. Rachel, who had been observing from a distance, fell into step beside me. "Another admirer?" I rolled my eyes. "They never learn." Rachel chuckled. "You're a magnet for attention, Alessia." I shook my head, smiling wryly. "Just what I need. More complications." As the day drew to a close, I gathered my belongings, eager to leave. But nature had other plans. Outside, torrential rain pounded against the hospital walls, creating a misty veil. Rachel and I exchanged worried glances. "I'm so sorry, Alessia. I have another shifts tonight," Rachel said, her voice laced with concern. "I understand. " I replied, scanning the rain-soaked streets. But anxiety crept in as I checked the time. Julian wouldn't be pleased with me staying out later than expected. "Maybe I can grab a taxi?" I suggested. Rachel shook her head. "You won't find one in this downpour." As we stood there, the rain showed no signs of letting up. I grew increasingly uneasy. "What if Julian calls?" I worried aloud. Rachel placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "You can explain the situation. He'll understand." But I knew better. Julian's understanding was as unpredictable as the weather.