Forbidden Claim: A Mafia King’s Obsession

Chapter 23: Mrs Romano

Nadia’s POV

The air inside the luxury sedan is thick, suffocating, and reeking of premium leather, gunpowder and the sharp scent of Lorenzo’s cologne. My Pulse is all over the place, the hammering against my ribs getting louder as Lorenzo’s weight suffocates me further. The darkness of the backseat offers no comfort, only a cage where his dark eyes gleamed with a terrifying mixture of unadulterated lust and and fury. The tension in the car was beginning to reach a breaking point when the driver’s side door suddenly clicks open.

Lorenzo doesn’t get off me immediately, his muscles locks beneath his tailored black shirt as his dark eyes filled with lust and fury snaps toward the front of the sedan. He takes his time, keeping me pinned for an agonizing second longer just to show me that he could before his shadow finally shifted.

Viktor, his trusted underboss, stops dead in his tracks. He stands with one foot inside the car, his massive frame silhouetted against the dim glow of the dashboard lights. As his gaze adjusts to the shadows of the back seat, his always professional mask falters for a second. He takes it all in — my torn dress, my pinned hands and Lorenzo hovering over me like a beast caging its prey. A heavy silence follows.

“Don,” Viktor says, his voice dropping to its usual professional tone as he Averts his eyes from my exposed skin. “The perimeter is clear. The body has been put in the spare vehicle like you instructed. And…” he pauses.

“What, Victor?” Lorenzo growls, his voice dripping with a vibration that started low in his chest. He still hasn’t released me, his thumb pressing into my pulse point.

“Mrs Romano just arrived at the estate, Don,” Viktor says calmly. “She asks to see you immediately.”

Lorenzo let out a low, irritated growl, the sound vibrating against my skin. The mention of the name seems to pull him back from the edge of whatever dark impulse he had in mind. For a moment, he just stared down at me, his eyes tracks the frantic rise and fall of my chest, before a cruel, dark smile touched his lips.

“Consider this your lucky day, piccola.” he purrs, grinning widely as stares down into my teary face.

Slowly, he releases his iron grip on my wrists and gets off me. The sudden absence of his heat makes the cold air of the car rush over my bare skin, making me shiver violently. I curl inwards, pulling the tattered remnants of my silk dress over my body, my chest heaving as broken, silent sobs force their way out of my throat, shaking my entire frame.

“Drive,” Lorenzo orders, his voice shifting back to the cold detached command of a man who ruled an empire.

He doesn’t get out of the back seat to join Viktor in the front. Instead, he just slid across the leather cushion to the opposite corner. With a terrifying calm demeanor, he begins to adjusts his trousers , smoothing down the fabric over his knees. He pulls his gold cufflinks into place with the same devilish aura he displayed before murdering a man in cold blood. He sits still, totally unaffected by the violation he just committed.

Viktor quickly slides into the driver’s seat, starts the engine and drives away , leaving the dark, blood stained palace grounds behind us. I press myself as far into the opposite corner of the seat as possible, wanting to put a million miles between my body and the man sitting just feet away from me. I lean my head sideways , letting my forehead rest against the cold glass of the window.

My body is shaking so violently I can barely keep my jaw from clicking. I feel dirty, terrified. The trauma of the last few hours — the bloody sight of a man’s life ending right in front of me, and then this — is a heavy fog rolling over my sanity. But underneath the trauma and fear, deep in the darkest, untouched corner of my mind, a little spark of rage is beginning to k****e. From the shadows across the seat, Lorenzo watches me from the dark corner of the car, it is a heavy and suffocating physical pressure, his eyes glowing like an Alpha predator in the dark.

“Go on and fix yourself,” he says coldly, his voice devoid of any sympathy.

With a careless flick of his wrist, he picks up his discarded suit jacket from the seat beside him, tossing it over the gap. It lands over my trembling knees, the scent of him immediately fills my nose, making me squeeze my eyes shut to fight another wave of nausea.

“We are few hours away from the mansion,” Lorenzo continues, his tone dripping with pure, undiluted venom. “If you dare walk through those doors looking like a victim, Nadia, I will ensure that the next time I touch you, you won’t be able to walk for a few days. You will play the part of my wife, and you will do perfectly.”

I didn’t give him any response. I couldn’t. I just reach down with numb fingers, clutching the heavy fabric to my chest, using it as a shield to hide my torn dress from the rare view mirror. I buried my face in the expensive material, using the thick wool to muffle the desperate, ragged cries I could no. Longer hide inside my chest.

My mind is in turmoil. Viktor just mentioned his mother, Mrs Romano. I have heard rumors about her and also seen her on TV a couple times. She is said to be a strong willed woman, a traditionalist who ruled the domestic side of the family with a ruthlessness which matched her husband’s — and now her son’s.

If she’s here because of me — because her son married a nobody, then I am about to be dropped into a pit of vipers, and every single one of them will be looking for reasons to tear me into a million pieces.