Owned By The Mafia Boss

Chapter Two

Alessia Mancini

The click of our heels echoed off polished marble as Riley and I stepped into Il Sotterraneo, the underground club beneath the casino. The club was pulsing with energy beneath our feet. My little black dress hugged my curves, the hem swishing against my thighs as I took in the cavernous space awash in amber light. Riley's bright yellow dress was a sunburst in the dimness, drawing appreciative glances as we made our way to the gleaming onyx bar.

"Happy birthday, babe!" Riley shouted over the sultry jazz, throwing an arm around my shoulders. "Twenty-five looks good on you."

I smiled, but my eyes were already scanning the room, cataloging exits and faces out of habit. "Thanks, Riles. Let's get a drink."

The bartender approached, all crisp white shirts and knowing smirk. "What can I get for you lovely ladies?"

"Two Negronis," Riley ordered with a wink. "Extra cherries for the birthday girl."

The bartender slid our drinks across the polished surface. "On the house," he said with a nod. "Happy birthday."

I sipped the bitter-sweet cocktail, relishing the burn. "You didn't have to do all this," I murmured to Riley.

She bumped my shoulder playfully. "Course I did. You deserve a night to forget all that drama with your dad and just be fabulous."

If only it were that simple. But I smiled, raising my glass. "To fabulousness, then."

As we clinked glasses, my gaze drifted to a private alcove where a group of well-dressed men were deep in conversation. One looked up, his dark eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that made my breath catch.

I quickly looked away, but not before noticing the way the others deferred to him. Power radiated from that corner of the room like heat from a furnace.

"Earth to Alessia," Riley's voice cut through my thoughts. "You okay? You went all deer-in-headlights for a sec."

I plastered on a smile, pushing down the instincts honed by years of navigating my father's dangerous world. "Just taking it all in. It's not every day a girl turns twenty-five."

But as the night unfolded, I couldn't shake the feeling that those dark eyes were still watching, assessing, seeing past the facade I'd so carefully constructed. And a part of me, buried deep beneath layers of caution, thrilled at the possibility.

The pulsing beat of the music called to us, and Riley grabbed my hand, pulling me toward the dance floor. "Come on, birthday girl! Time to show these people how it's done."

We wove through the crowd, the scent of expensive perfume and cologne mingling with the warmth of bodies in motion. As we reached the center of the floor, the lights shifted, casting us in a warm, golden glow.

I let the rhythm take over, my hips swaying in time with the music. Riley and I moved in sync, years of friendship translating into an easy, natural flow. I caught glimpses of admiring glances from the dancers around us, their eyes drawn to our uninhibited joy.

"We've still got it, Lex!" Riley shouted over the music, twirling me with a laugh.

I grinned back, feeling lighter than I had in months. For a moment, I could forget about the weight of my father's debts, the constant vigilance required to keep our world from crumbling. Here, in this pulsing heart of Il Sotterraneo, I was just another carefree woman celebrating her birthday.

But even as I danced, a part of me remained alert, cataloging the faces around us, noting the subtle currents of power that flowed through the crowd. Old habits die hard, and in a place like this, information could be as valuable as currency.

After a few songs, Riley leaned in close, her breath tickling my ear. "I don't know about you, but I could use another drink. And maybe a closer look at that bartender."

I laughed, allowing her to lead me off the dance floor. "Always the multitasker, aren't you?"

As we approached the bar, I couldn't help but wonder if those dark eyes from earlier were still watching, and what they might see in this moment of apparent abandon.

Riley winked at me before turning her attention to the bartender, her flirtatious smile in full force. I leaned against the bar, savoring the cool marble against my skin, a welcome respite from the heat of the dance floor.

"I'll be right back," Riley said suddenly, squeezing my arm. "Nature calls!"

I watched her yellow dress disappear into the crowd, feeling a sudden pang of vulnerability. Without Riley's vibrant presence beside me, the pulsing energy of the club took on a more sinister edge. I shook off the feeling, chiding myself for being paranoid.

Scanning the room, I tried to locate a familiar face, anyone who might offer a moment of conversation while I waited. That's when I felt it – a large hand clamping over my mouth, an arm like steel wrapping around my waist.

My heart leaped into my throat as I was yanked backwards, my heels scraping against the floor. I tried to scream, but the sound was muffled against the palm pressed firmly against my lips. The scent of expensive cologne filled my nostrils, a stark contrast to the brutality of the act.

Instinct kicked in, and I thrashed wildly, desperately trying to break free. But my assailant was too strong, effortlessly dragging me towards a barely visible staff door. My mind raced, searching for an escape, for anyone who might notice my predicament in the chaos of the club.

As the door loomed closer, panic threatened to overwhelm me. I thought of Riley, who would return any moment to find me gone. Of my father, whose actions had undoubtedly led to this moment. The door swung open, and I was thrust into a dimly lit corridor. The throbbing bass from the club became muffled, replaced by the sound of my own ragged breathing. My eyes darted around, desperately seeking an escape route, but all I saw were bare concrete walls and flickering fluorescent lights.

Suddenly, another figure emerged from the shadows. Even in my panicked state, I recognised him instantly – Matteo De Luca, the Shadow. His calculating grey eyes swept over me, assessing the situation with cold efficiency.

"She's more... spirited than anticipated," Matteo observed, his tone as crisp and formal as if he were discussing a business transaction.

I seized the moment of distraction, channeling all my fear and rage into one desperate move. With all the strength I could muster, I slammed my leg backward, my stiletto heel connecting solidly between the legs of the man holding me.

A guttural curse erupted behind me as his grip loosened. I stumbled forward, heart pounding, tasting freedom for a brief, exhilarating moment.

Matteo's lips curled into the ghost of a smile. "Antonio," he said, his voice carrying a hint of amusement, "walk it off, then join us."

"Will do, Matteo," Antonio growled, his Neapolitan accent thick with pain.

I didn't wait to hear more. My instincts screamed at me to run, to escape this nightmare before it could truly begin. The corridor stretched before me, a path to salvation if I could just reach the end.

My red heels clacked against the concrete as I sprinted, the sound echoing off the walls like a frantic heartbeat. The exit sign glowed tantalizingly in the distance, a beacon of hope in this underground maze.

But I had underestimated Matteo's speed and agility. In mere seconds, I felt his presence behind me, closing the gap with terrifying efficiency. His breath barely quickened as he reached out and caught me, his grip like iron around my waist.

"Let me go!" I screamed, thrashing wildly against his hold. My fists pounded against his chest, but it was like hitting a stone wall.

In one fluid motion, Matteo hoisted me over his shoulder. The world tilted dizzyingly, and I found myself staring at the back of his perfectly tailored suit, the scent of expensive cologne mingling with my fear.

"This will be easier if you don't fight back, Ms. Mancini," Matteo said, his voice maddeningly calm. "I assure you, struggling will only make things more... uncomfortable."

As he carried me deeper into the bowels of the club, away from the pulsing music and the oblivious revelers, a chill ran down my spine. What did they want with me? And more importantly, how was I going to get out of this?

My heart raced, pounding against Matteo's shoulder as he carried me through a dimly lit corridor. The muffled thump of bass from the club above faded, replaced by an eerie silence broken only by our footsteps and my ragged breathing.

"What do you want with me?" I demanded, my voice trembling despite my efforts to sound defiant. The fear coursing through my veins made it hard to think straight, but I needed answers.

Matteo's deep chuckle reverberated through his body, sending an involuntary shiver down my spine. "Oh, the boss will tell you all about that," he replied, his tone laced with dark amusement.

The boss. Those words sent a fresh wave of terror through me. I'd heard whispers about the head of the Moretti family, a man whose very name struck fear into the hearts of Porto Cristallo's residents. What could he possibly want with me?

As we descended a flight of stairs, the air grew cooler and damper. The scent of aged wood and expensive leather mixed with a faint metallic tang that made my stomach churn. I closed my eyes, trying to steady my breathing and clear my head. There had to be a way out of this, but panic was clouding my judgment.

"Almost there, Ms. Mancini," Matteo said, his grip tightening slightly as if sensing my renewed determination to escape. "I suggest you compose yourself. The boss doesn't appreciate hysterics."

I swallowed hard, my mouth dry with fear. Whatever was waiting for me at the end of this journey, I knew my life would never be the same.