Owned By The Mafia Boss

Chapter Four

Alessia Mancini

Giovanni leaned back, his broad shoulders filling the expensive leather chair. "Well, mia cara, we need to balance the books," he said, his voice smooth as silk but laced with steel. "Your father is two hundred and fifty million in the red. He seems to believe you can help me... rectify that situation."

My stomach churned. The implications hung heavy in the air, thick and suffocating. I glanced at my father, slumped in his chair, unable to meet my gaze. Anger and betrayal warred within me.

"And how exactly am I supposed to do that?" I spat, my nails digging into my palms. "I'm not exactly sitting on a fortune here."

Giovanni's dark eyes glittered with amusement, like a cat toying with its prey. "Ah, but your father has painted quite the picture of your talents, mia cara," he purred, the Italian endearment rolling off his tongue. "He tells us you're a trader, a statistician, a financial strategist. Perhaps you can literally help balance the books."

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. I struggled to keep my expression neutral, but my mind raced. The scent of Giovanni's expensive cologne mingled with the rich leather of his chair, making my head spin. I could feel the weight of my father's desperate gamble pressing down on me.

I let out a harsh laugh, the sound brittle in the opulent office. "So what, you expect me to make you back two hundred and fifty million? Just like that?"

Giovanni leaned back in his chair, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. The soft lamplight caught the planes of his face, casting shadows that made him look even more dangerous. He steepled his fingers, his gaze never leaving mine.

"I know you can do it, mia cara," he said, his voice a low rumble that sent an involuntary shiver down my spine. "Because I know about Don Salvatore. I know you paid him off on your father's behalf. I know how much that was, and how long it took."

My blood ran cold. How did he know about that? I could almost smell the musty interior of Don Salvatore's office, feel the weight of his calculating stare. I swallowed hard, trying to keep my voice steady.

"That was two and a half million," I retorted, "not two hundred and fifty!"

Giovanni's smirk widened, revealing perfect white teeth. "It was, yes," he conceded, leaning forward. The movement brought his scent closer; sandalwood and something darker, more primal. "But that, you did from a starting point of ten thousand."

My mind reeled, trying to process his words. I could hear my heart pounding in my ears, feel the sweat beading on my palms. Giovanni continued, his voice silky smooth.

"I propose to put two hundred and fifty thousand in a fresh account for you," he said, as if offering me a gift. "And you simply make it two hundred and fifty million."

A hysterical laugh bubbled up in my throat. "You make that sound easy," I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm to mask the fear coiling in my gut.

I took a deep breath, the scent of leather and expensive cologne filling my nostrils. The weight of the situation pressed down on me, as heavy as the bonds restricting my movement.

"I don't really have a f*****g choice, do I?" I said, anger and frustration colouring my words.

Giovanni's dark eyes glittered dangerously. "Not really, mia cara," he replied, his voice a low purr that sent an involuntary shiver down my spine. "But we can still discuss terms, to a degree."

I shifted uncomfortably in the plush armchair, wincing as the movement sent pins and needles through my numb limbs. The pain sparked an idea.

"Can you at least undo my hands and ankles?" I asked, trying to keep the desperation out of my voice. "I can't feel them anymore."

Giovanni raised one eyebrow, his expression a mixture of amusement and skepticism. The silence stretched between us, thick with unspoken tension.

"I can't exactly get out of here, can I?" I added, gesturing with my chin towards the imposing figure of Matteo standing guard by the door.

A low chuckle rumbled from Giovanni's chest. "I like that you're defiant, we’ll see how long that lasts," he said, his eyes roaming over me in a way that made me feel both exposed and intrigued. He nodded almost imperceptibly to Matteo. "Undo them."

As Matteo approached, I couldn't help but wonder what I was getting myself into. The bonds loosened, and blood rushed back into my extremities. I flexed my fingers, trying to ignore the tingling sensation and the way Giovanni watched my every move with predatory interest.

I massaged my wrists, relishing the return of sensation even as my mind raced. The opulent office suddenly felt claustrophobic, the scent of leather and expensive cologne cloying in my nostrils. I met Giovanni's intense gaze, my heart pounding.

"What exactly do you expect if I agree to this?" I asked, my voice steadier than I felt.

Before Giovanni could respond, my father's desperate voice cut through the air. "Don't do this, bambina. I'll find a way, I promise!"

Anger flared hot in my chest, burning away the last traces of numbness. I whirled to face him, my eyes narrowing.

"Don't call me that, Dad," I said, the childhood endearment now tasting like ash on my tongue. "You're all out of chances, aren't you? What did you think would happen when you signed me away as collateral?"

The words hung in the air, heavy with years of resentment and broken promises. My father's face crumpled, but I forced myself to look away. I couldn't let his pain sway me now, not when I was treading water in a sea of sharks.

I turned back to Giovanni, lifting my chin in a show of defiance I didn't entirely feel. His dark eyes glittered with something that might have been approval – or hunger.

"Well?" I prompted, arching an eyebrow. "What are your terms, Mr. Moretti?"

A slow smile spread across Giovanni's face, sending an involuntary shiver down my spine. He leaned forward, his voice a silky caress.

"You'll move into my villa, mia cara," he began, each word dripping with unspoken implications. "I'll set you up with an office, a laptop, everything you could need to work your... magic with numbers."

I swallowed hard, my mouth suddenly dry. The thought of being trapped in Giovanni's lair, surrounded by luxury and danger, made my head spin.

"You'll have your own suite," he continued, "a sanctuary of sorts." His eyes locked with mine, intense and unyielding. "But make no mistake, Alessia. You will not be able to leave the grounds."

The finality in his tone sent ice through my veins. I was about to sell my soul to the devil, and he was offering me a gilded cage.

I took a deep breath, the scent of Giovanni's expensive cologne mingling with the rich leather of his office. My heart raced, but I forced my voice to remain steady.

"Is this just until the debt is repaid?" I asked, narrowing my eyes at him.

Giovanni leaned back in his chair, the smooth Italian leather creaking softly. He regarded me with an infuriatingly enigmatic smile, his fingers steepled beneath his chin.

"We'll see what happens, mia cara," he replied, his tone maddeningly noncommittal.

A surge of frustration welled up inside me. I clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms.

"That's not an answer," I shot back, my earlier bravado faltering. "I need to know what I'm agreeing to."

Giovanni's eyes darkened, a predatory gleam flickering in their depths. He stood slowly, his imposing figure casting a shadow over me. I fought the urge to shrink back in the plush armchair.

"You're in no position to make demands, Alessia," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "But I admire your spirit. It will serve you well in the tasks ahead."

My mind raced, searching for a way out, a loophole, anything. But the walls of Giovanni's opulent office seemed to close in around me, leaving no escape.

"So now what?” I asked, hating the slight tremor in my voice.

Giovanni's lips curved into a smirk, his dark eyes glittering with satisfaction. "Now, Alessandro and I will drive you and your father home. You'll pack a bag with the basics, and then we'll head back to your new... accommodation."

The word 'home' hung unspoken between us, a silent challenge. I swallowed hard, tasting the bitterness of defeat.

"Fine," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "Let's just do this."

Giovanni's eyebrow arched, a flicker of surprise crossing his chiseled features. "You're eager," he remarked, his tone laced with amusement and something darker.

I met his gaze, summoning every ounce of defiance I could muster. "No," I retorted, "there's just absolutely nothing to be gained by waiting."

A low chuckle rumbled from Giovanni's chest, sending an involuntary shiver down my spine. He turned to the silent, watchful figure of Alessandro, who had been standing guard by the door.

"Prepare the car," Giovanni ordered. "We leave in five minutes."

As Alessandro nodded and slipped out, I stood on shaky legs, my mind reeling. The weight of what I'd agreed to pressed down on me, threatening to crush my resolve. But I couldn't let them see me falter. Not now.

Giovanni's hand came to rest on the small of my back, guiding me towards the door. His touch burned through the thin fabric of my blouse, a reminder of the power he now held over me.

"Come, mia cara," he murmured, his breath hot against my ear. "Your new life awaits."