The mafia king's forced bribe

Chapter 3:She's mine

The drive to the school was a masterclass in suffocating silence.

Alessandro kept his midnight-black eyes locked on the gray asphalt ahead, though his gaze occasionally strayed to the rearview mirror, pinning Isabella in the backseat. He dropped them off right at the front gates, completely ignoring the stunned stares of the students passing by. Before Isabella could even mutter a proper thank you, the luxury SUV was already pulling away, disappearing into the cold morning like a phantom.

Alessandro didn't like to waste time. The moment the school gates vanished from view, his mind began transitioning from his sister's domestic world back into the cold, ruthless reality of his empire.

The vehicle cut through the rain-slicked streets of Moscow, maneuvering through the chaotic morning traffic with predatory ease, eventually pulling up to a towering skyscraper that pierced the heavy, overcast clouds. A massive, sleek sign of polished steel stretched across the magnificent glass facade: DE LUCA ENTERPRISES

To the public, De Luca Enterprises was the absolute pinnacle of corporate success,the largest, most profitable conglomerate in the whole of Russia. It controlled vast shipping lines, high-end real estate, and international technology. But behind the tinted glass and multi-billion-dollar balance sheets lay a much darker, lethal truth. Everything was a flawless cover.

Alessandro wasn't just a brilliant CEO. He was the reigning Bratva King, ruling over one of the largest and most terrifying mafia syndicates in the world. He was a man defined by absolute ruthlessness and a terrifying possessiveness; if something caught his attention, he claimed it. He always, without exception, got exactly what he wanted.

The moment his SUV stopped under the grand canopy of the building, a heavily armed security detail swarmed the vehicle, standing at absolute attention.

Alessandro stepped out into the crisp air, adjusting his dark coat as the raindrops rolled off the premium fabric. Before he could even reach the grand glass doors, a sharp, familiar figure rushed toward him through the bustling lobby.

"Where the hell did you run off to?"

Xavier didn’t look or act like a typical executive assistant. While he wore a sharp, perfectly tailored three-piece suit, his tie was slightly loosened, and he possessed a bold, easygoing confidence that would get any other employee fired on the spot. Xavier and Alessandro had grown up in the trenches of the underworld together. They were practically brothers, and Xavier was one of the incredibly rare people on earth who wasn't completely paralyzed by Alessandro's lethal aura. He was naturally funny, openly blunt, and entirely unafraid of the mafia king.

"You vanish into thin air right after a New York flight, leave absolutely no paper trail, and expect me to handle the board of directors solo?" Xavier complained, falling into step right beside Alessandro's massive frame as they moved toward the private executive elevator. "You have enough meetings today to put a normal man into a coma, boss. The oil executives are already sweating through their shirts in conference room A."

Alessandro didn't even look at him. His jaw remained set, his face an unyielding mask of stone as the gold-plated elevator doors slid shut, rocketing them toward the top floor. "Reschedule them."

Xavier let out a dramatic gasp, throwing his hands up in the air. "Reschedule them? Alessandro, these people control half the European energy grid. You can't just..."

"Reschedule them, Xavier," Alessandro repeated, his deep voice dropping to a low, quiet frequency that instantly cut off Xavier's teasing tone.

The elevator dinned, opening directly into the penthouse executive suite.

Alessandro’s office was a physical reflection of his soul. It was vast, occupying the entire top floor, with floor-to-ceiling glass walls that offered a panoramic, dizzying view of the sprawling Moscow skyline below. The floors were made of polished, obsidian-black marble that gleamed under the soft, recessed lighting. A massive desk, carved from a single slab of rare, dark mahogany, sat at the absolute center of the room, completely uncluttered. The furniture was a minimalist blend of dark leather and brushed steel. It was cold, imposing, and completely devoid of comfort. It was the office of a tyrant.

Alessandro walked across the dark marble, throwing his black coat onto a leather armchair. He didn't sit down. Instead, he stood before the glass wall, looking out at the heavy rain washing over the city.

Xavier stepped into the room, his playful demeanor fading into genuine curiosity as he noticed the unusually intense, volatile energy radiating off his boss. "Alright, what happened? You look like you're plotting a bloody war, but your vitals are completely fine. What changed in the last hour?"

Alessandro turned around slowly, his large, veiny, powerful hands resting flat against the dark wood of his desk. His black eyes locked onto Xavier with total, unyielding focus.

"Isabella," Alessandro said, the name rolling off his tongue with a rich, dangerous sweetness.

Xavier blinked, completely thrown off. "Who?"

"Luna's friend," Alessandro commanded, his voice cold and authoritative. "I want a complete research file on her. Family history, financials, medical records, childhood, friends, habits. Everything. I want her entire life laid out on this desk in less than twenty-four hours."

Xavier raised an eyebrow, a slow, knowing smirk creeping back onto his face as he realized what was happening. The ruthless, untouchable mafia king had finally found an obsession. "A deep dive on a school girl? Alessandro, she's Luna's friend. Is she a security risk? Did someone plant her?"

"Just do it," Alessandro snapped smoothly, his tone leaving absolutely zero room for further questions or banter.

Recognizing the dangerous, lethal edge in his friend's voice, Xavier nodded, his demeanor turning completely professional. "Understood. You'll have it by tomorrow morning."

With a brief nod, Xavier turned on his heel and left the office, closing the heavy double doors behind them, leaving Alessandro entirely alone in the massive, quiet space.

Alessandro finally sat down in his heavy leather chair. A thick stack of high-stakes corporate documents sat before him, waiting for his signature to authorize mergers worth hundreds of millions of dollars. He pulled a sleek fountain pen from his pocket and opened the first folder.

He read the first paragraph. Then he read it again.

It was useless. For the first time in his entire life, Alessandro couldn't concentrate on his work.

Every time he looked down at the black ink on the white paper, his mind instantly betrayed him. The corporate text faded, replaced by the vivid memory of a cramped hallway, a flushed, beautiful face, and bare, delicate legs shaking under his gaze. The soft, flowery scent of her skin seemed to mock the expensive leather and smoky amber cologne lingering in his office.

He dropped the pen onto the desk, leaning back as his dark eyes stared up at the ceiling.

It was driving him insane. He had only met her today. Literally an hour ago, she had been a complete stranger, and yet an overwhelming, dark possessiveness was already clawing at his chest. He had never felt like this before. Never.

Women had never been anything more than a passing transaction to him. He used them for his physical needs, completely detached, discarding them the moment his temporary urge was satisfied. He didn't do emotions. He didn't do attachments. Love, infatuation, longing,those were weaknesses meant for lesser men.

So why was she consuming his thoughts?

She was supposed to be a nobody. A quiet girl living with her aunt and uncle. But the moment he had looked into her panicked eyes, a dark, primal switch had flipped inside him. He didn't just want to know who she was,he wanted to pull her into his world and lock her away where no one else could ever look at her.

As the rain lashed violently against the thick glass, a sudden, heavy shadow of unease settled into Alessandro's chest. He stared out at the city, a dark intuition whispering in the back of his mind. Why was she living with her aunt and uncle? Where were her parents?

In his world, coincidences didn't exist. Innocence was a luxury, and secrets were currency. If Isabella was close to his sister, she was close to the Bratva. And if she was close to the Bratva, she was either a target or a trap.

Alessandro's eyes darkened as he stared at the digital clock on his desk. The countdown to the twenty-four hours had already begun. Something told him that whatever Xavier was going to find in that file tomorrow morning was going to change everything.

And for the most powerful man in Russia, morning couldn't come fast enough.