Forbidden Claim: A Mafia King’s Obsession

Chapter 16: Threatening her

Nadia’s POV

My breath catches in my throat as I freeze. I don’t want to see him — not after what happened last night. I actually thought he had already left for work, which is why I was confident enough to come downstairs.

Suddenly the sound of heavy footsteps echoes behind me. A second later, I feel the oppressive heat radiating from his body as he looms over my shoulder. The skimpy nightwear I’m wearing is suddenly a massive problem.

“Turn around, Nadia. Look at me,” he commands in a low rumble.

The maids instantly sense the suffocating tension building in the room and quickly flee the dinning hall, clicking the heavy doors shut behind them.

I turn around slowly to meet his dark, predatory gaze. His eyes roams over my body like a hunter accessing captured prey. A startled gasp escapes my throat and I stumble backward. Before I can take another step, he closes the distance with long strides and grabs my waist, pulling me against his hard, broad chest. I place my palms against his chest, shoving him with everything I have.

“Don’t touch me,” I say, my voice barely a whisper.

He chuckles, a dark, mocking grin stretches his lips. “You are mine, Nadia. And I will do whatever I want with you.”

He buries his face in the crook of my neck and plants harsh, burning kisses there. My eyes widen in terror as I push against his chest, but he doesn’t budge. He feels like a solid rock. Shifting his grip from my waist to my hips, he lifts me effortlessly, like I weigh nothing at all. He carries me to the empty, polished table at the far end of the dinning hall.

Stranding me on the edge of the table, he settles himself firmly in between my thighs. He pins my wrists to the table, trapping me completely, and claims my lips in a rough, hungry kiss. His hands move and rip my jacket away, his cold fingers trailing down my bare skin. My eyes stay wide open, my entire body trembling from the terrifying impact of him.

He kisses me deeply before breaking away with a sharp bite to my lower lip.

A sharp wince escapes my throat as the taste of copper fills my mouth. He stares at the bead of blood he’s drawn, a dark look of absolute satisfaction filling his eyes.

“I’ll ravage you, Nadia. I’ll conquer every part of your body, breaking you slowly while enacting my revenge,” he says with a devilish smile on his lips. “And when I’m done, there will be nothing left of you.”

Revenge?

Before I can process the word, he releases me abruptly and steps away. Without his support, my knees tremble. I drop from the table and crash to the cold marble floor, breathing heavily as I clutch my nightwear tighter to my chest. My entire body is shaking so bad I can barely sit upright. He just stands, towering over me, watching cold-bloodedly as I try to catch my breath.

“Go on and eat. I have matters to attend to” he orders. His voice has already returned to its usual dark, detached demeanor. Without another look, he turns on his heels and walks out of the dining hall.

I drag myself off the floor, my legs feeling heavy like lead. The food sitting on the grand table suddenly makes me feel sick.

Revenge. The word echoes in the empty, silent room. Louder than a gunshot.

What revenge is he talking about? He paid my uncle a fortune so he could take me, he also said I was a means of erasing his debt. So what’s the revenge about? What did I do to incur the wrath of a monster like him?

Shaking, I wrap my arms around my knees and bury my face in them right there on the floor. I don’t cry. I can’t . The tears are frozen by a new suffocating fear. He didn’t just marry me to control me or use me as a trophy. He wants to destroy me because of a past I know nothing about.

I stay on the floor for what feels like hours until the room goes completely cold as I realize one terrifying truth. If I don’t find out what his revenge is about soon, he will really leave nothing left of me.

Slowly dragging my numb body off the floor, I walk to table. My hands still tremble as I grab the glass of water in front of me and gulp it down. Picking up my fork, I try to force myself to eat as my stomach growls in protest.

Suddenly, a breaking news report on the dinning hall wall TV catches my attention. My uncle appears on the screen, dressed in a sharp, well-tailored suit as he addresses the public and reporters surrounding him.

‘My son, Alex Bennett, was involved in a horrible accident last night,” my uncle announces, his voice cracking under the pressure of the flashing cameras. “And as a result, he has lost his right hand.