TRAPPED BETWEEN THE MAFIA DON AND THE LYCAN

Chapter 001 Alessandra's POV I sense it as soon as I get off the train. The darkness of London was pressing down on me, oppressive and heavy. I swallow, but it makes no difference. The air is heavy with something familiar and dangerous, and my chest feels constricted. I feel like I'm sinking deeper and deeper with each step, as if the earth is drawing me back into a nightmare I never imagined I'd experience again. I will never be able to leave this city or this location. I believed I could get away with it. Now, though, I'm back where it all began. I attempt to brush it off. Alessandra, take a deep breath. Don't crumble. Don't crumble right now. I don't want to be in this place. There is simply too much to take in. Standing here today, I understand that there is no turning back from the past, even though the train voyage was meant to be my new beginning. I saw him after that. Dominic Blackwood. His name freezes me in place like a shock of electricity coursing through my veins. He is standing on the other side of the platform, his shadow-like figure slicing through the crowd. I understand, yet I'm uncertain about the exact method. In my bones, I sense it. He had been anticipating my arrival. I can't get away from it—from him. My legs refuse to comply as I attempt to move and slide away. They have a lead-like feel. I'm stunned by the intensity of his stare as his cold, calculating eyes meet mine. You can't hide. He notices me. Ever since I got off the train, he has been observing me. He moves slowly and deliberately, as though he is enjoying each second. Every step reverberates in my ears, eerie and weighty. The surrounding city dims. As Dominic's presence takes over, everything else fades into the background, including the noise, the rush of traffic, and the people walking. He's no ordinary man. He is the don of the Mafia. He is responsible for overseeing all aspects of the organisation. And I—I am merely a pawn in his scheme. The world seems to hold its breath when he gets to me. It is daunting to be around him. His presence feels suffocating, like a weight on my chest. I sense his might and authority, and I realise right away that there is nowhere to flee. At first, he remains silent. The air between us is dense, and he simply stands there, staring at me. My heart is pounding, but I can't take my eyes off it. I feel as though I can't get out of his stare. Then he starts talking, his voice breaking the stillness like a whisper. "You make me think of a person I lost." Someone who shouldn't have gone. I was struck hard by what he said. I take a hesitant step back as my breath catches, but before I can pull away, his hand shoots out. His fingers encircle my wrist, and I gasp as his hold tightens. It is nearly unbearable. His touch lacks gentleness. It's chilly. managed. I tremble as I murmur, "I'm not her." His grip only gets tighter as I attempt to get free. "No," he replies in a smooth, deep voice, but underlying the serenity is something sinister. "You're not. However, you will be. The phrases make my spine tingle. Despite their incomprehensible nature, their weight resonates with me. He isn't here to take someone's position. He is here to take me back. I can't break free from his iron grip no matter how hard I try. He is too powerful. Too strong. I attempt to speak steadily as I say, "I didn't ask for this," but my heart is pounding in my ears. Something evil flickers in his gaze. It doesn't matter. You are now present. The way he says that makes my blood run cold, even though I have no idea what he means. He treats me as if I'm his property and that I have no say in any of this. My thoughts are racing. I've returned to the hell I thought I had left behind. I didn't want this life. I left everything behind, but now I find myself ensnared in his world once more. And I'm not sure if I'll be able to leave this time. With desperation tugging at the edge of my voice, I add, "I'm not your wife." Something between a sneer and a smile curls his lips. It's chilly and emotionless. "No. You're not. However, you will be. I feel sick to my stomach. Even though I don't understand, his voice's assurance is enough to make me feel anxious. "Why me?" Almost begging, I ask. I can no longer contain my terror, and my voice breaks. He leans in closer, his breath warm across my skin as his eyes darken. "Because you are now mine." You will always be. His words burn into my skin like a brand, identifying me and making me mine. However, I'm not sure if it's a threat or a promise. Perhaps both. I'd like to get away. I want to attack him and shout, but I can't. The fear rising within me paralyses me. He is looming over me, controlling every aspect of this moment, and all I can do is stand there with my body feeling frozen, as though I've been shackled. His voice is low and predatory, even mischievous, as though he finds my effort amusing. "You think you can escape me, Alessandra?" he says. When his lips touch my ear, I get a chill that has nothing to do with desire. Fear is the cause. Unadulterated terror. "I—" My voice breaks, and I am unable to complete the sentence. My voice is stuck in my throat, too thick to let out, yet I want to say anything, to tell him to let me go. He reaches for my neck and runs his fingers over my flesh. I resist the need to shudder under his touch as my heart falters in my chest. "I own you. I now own you. His statements are definite and are delivered with the assurance of a man accustomed to achieving his goals. I want to yell. My body won't let me break away from him, even if I want to claw at his chest. I'm not strong enough. Too powerless. I can't get away. I am unable to run. I'm with him. I'm confined. His body presses against mine as his hold on me gets stronger once more. I get burnt by the heat emanating from his body, but it's the fire of control rather than pleasure or possession. In an attempt to calm my breathing and ignore the horror that is overpowering my senses, I close my eyes. However, my efforts are ineffective. I'm pushed more and deeper into a corner I can't get out of with every touch and word he says. I mumble, "I won't be your prisoner," but it sounds feeble. even to me. Something sinister, something perilous, sparkles in his eyes. "You are already." I have no idea what he will do next. What he wants from me is unknown to me. However, I sense it. He will not give up until he has me—until I am his. What am I going to do? How am I going to make it through this? Am I destined to live this life, or will I ever be free again? What will happen if I am unable to get away from him?