Owned By The Sicilian Mafia King

THE ROSSI COMPOUND

Matteo’s Pov

The moment I see her walking down those plane stairs, I know I made the right choice waiting all these years.

Camila Morales is beautiful in a way that surprises me. I expected her to be pretty—Diego always had good taste in women—but this is different. She's elegant without trying. There's something fragile about her, but also something strong underneath. The way she walks, the way she holds herself. She's been caged her whole life, and you can see it. But the cage hasn't broken her yet.

"Welcome to Sicily, Camila," I say, keeping my voice cool. I don't let her see what I'm thinking. That's the first rule of power, never show your hand.

She looks directly at me, and for a second, I see fear in her eyes. Good. Fear is honest. Fear I can work with.

"How long?" she asks. "Have you been waiting?"

The question surprises me. Most people don't ask direct questions to someone like me.

"Since the day your father signed you away," I tell her. "Since that day I have decided exactly what I was going to do with you."

She's watching me carefully now, trying to figure out if I'm a threat. Smart girl. She should be afraid. I am a threat.

"And what's that?" she asks.

I step closer to her. "Make you mine. In every way that matters."

I watch her reaction. Her breath catches slightly, but she doesn't look away. That shows strength.

"Get in the car," I tell her.

She hesitates for just a moment, and I can see her weighing her options. She has none, but it's interesting that she considers it anyway.

Camila walks toward the car, and my men open the back door for her. I get in beside her instead of sitting up front with the driver. I want to watch her. I want to see how she reacts to being this close to me.

The car starts moving toward the compound. It's about thirty minutes from the airport, through the mountains and along roads that only locals know. Beautiful countryside. My family has owned this land for generations.

"Your father told you about our agreement?" I ask.

"He said something about a blood agreement," Camila says carefully. "He didn't give me many details."

"Of course he didn't," I say. "Diego always was good at avoiding the hard truths."

I lean back in my seat, studying her face. She's trying very hard to look brave, but her hands are shaking slightly in her lap.

"My father and your father made a deal a long time ago," I explain. "Before you were even born. It was the kind of deal that people in our world don't break. They promised that if the Morales family ever fell, you would come to me."

"By marrying you," she says. It's not a question.

"Yes."

"I don't even know you," she says.

"No," I agree. "But you will."

She's quiet for a moment, and I can see her mind working. She's intelligent. I like that. I've never wanted a stupid wife. Stupid women are boring and useless.

"What if I refuse?" she asks.

I turn to look at her fully, and I let her see a hint of what I really am. The part that has killed men without blinking. The part that took over my family's empire when I was only twenty-three years old. The part that everyone fears.

"Then you'll be breaking a sacred agreement," I say quietly. "And there will be consequences. Not for you, not directly. But for everyone you've ever loved. Your father already knows this. That's why he sent you."

Her face goes pale. She understands now. There's no escape. There's no way out. She's trapped, just like she always has been, except this time it's my cage instead of her father's.

"I won't hurt you," I tell her, and I mean it. I need her alive and cooperative. "But you will obey me. You will do exactly what I tell you to do. And in return, I will protect you. No one will ever touch you as long as you're under my protection."

"That's not protection," she says bitterly. "That's ownership."

"Yes," I say simply. "In my world, they're the same thing."

The car turns off the main road and starts climbing higher into the mountains. We pass through my family's private gates. No one gets past those gates without permission. Once you're inside, you're either family or you're imprisoned.

Camila is about to become both.

"You'll have your own rooms," I tell her. "You have freedom to move around most of the house and the grounds. But there are areas that are off-limits. The business offices, the basement, certain parts of the west wing. You'll be shown which areas you can access."

"And if I go where I'm not allowed?" she asks.

"You won't," I say.

She doesn't ask what will happen if she does. She's smart enough to understand.

The compound comes into view. It's massive, built into the mountainside hundreds of years ago. The original building was a fortress, and my family has only made it more secure over the centuries. High walls. Guard towers. It looks like a castle, but it's designed for war and control.

"This is home," I say.

She stares at it like she's looking at her own tomb.

The car pulls around to the main entrance, and my staff is waiting. My housekeeper, Rosa, is there with two younger women who will help Camila settle in. Rosa is stern but fair. She'll make sure Camila is comfortable, but she'll also report everything Camila does back to me.

"Rosa will show you to your rooms," I tell her. "Rest. We'll have dinner together tonight at eight. Dress nicely. And Camila…."

She looks at me.

"Don't try to run," I say gently. "There's nowhere to go. The nearest town is an hour away by car. The roads are guarded. And even if you somehow made it out of the compound, I would find you. I always find what belongs to me."

She gets out of the car without saying anything. Rosa rushes over to greet her, taking her small bag and talking rapidly in Italian.

Camila follows them inside without looking back at me.

From my car window, I watch her go.

I've waited years for this moment. Years of thinking about Diego Morales, about the disrespect he showed my family, about the men he had killed. I wanted revenge so badly that it consumed me. But then I realized the best revenge isn't death. Death is too quick, too easy.

The best revenge is taking everything he loves and making it yours.

I pull out my phone and dial my best friend Antonio.

"She's here," I say when he answers.

"And?" he asks.

"And she's perfect," I say, watching the doors to the compound close behind her. "We'll be married within the month."

"Matteo, that's insane," Antonio says. "You don't know her. She could be…"

"I don't care what she could be," I interrupt. "She's Diego Morales' daughter, and she's in my house. That's all that matters."

I hang up the phone and smile.

For the first time in years, I feel like everything is finally falling into place.