Trapped: A Dark Mafia Romance

by Anna Ray

  The orgasm claims every part of my body, making my heart race and my toes curl.

  He pulls his hand away and presses his body down on top of mine, staring deeply into my eyes.

  “You’re mine,” he tells me, and then his mouth claims mine in a rough kiss that only adds to the high I’m feeling. He kisses me breathlessly as my heart rate slowly returns to normal.

  When he pulls away, I’m quivering in the bed, practically a puddle.

  He smirks, stands, and says, “I’m going to shower. Come join me when you can.”

  17

  Massimo

  I walk through to the bathroom and stip off my clothes, the smell of Alessandra still on my fingers. The memory of her face when she came makes my cock harden again. I’m about to go back in there, but think better of it. I know neither of our bodies are ready for a second round… yet.

  Instead, I switch on the shower and wait for the water to heat. Once it’s warm, I step under the spray and let it rain down on me. I let out a slow breath, feeling more at peace with the world than I have in the last ten years.

  Even though I showered before Alessandra came to my room, I quickly freshen up again, and when I’m done, she steps into the bathroom.

  She looks amazing in the black negligee: it hugs her curves perfectly and covers just enough to make the outfit even more tantalizing.

  “Join me,” I call, and she removes her clothes.

  This is the first time we’re both seeing the other fully naked, and I’m not disappointed. Even without the lingerie, her body is curvaceous. Her tits are the perfect teardrop shape, with dark areolas and nipples, and she has a thatch of black hair between her legs. The way her curls hang down her back, contrasting with her bronzed skin, makes her look like a goddess from a Renaissance painting.

  I step back so she can join me and say, “Let me wash your hair.”

  Alessandra turns, a coy smile on her face, and asks, “Really?”

  “Really. I love your hair, and I want to take care of you,” I say, pressing a kiss to her shoulder.”

  “Okay,” she agrees, a blush covering her cheeks.

  I grab the shampoo and lather it into her hair, rinse it off, and repeat the process with conditioner. Once her hair is clean, I take the shower loofah and massage shower gel into her body, my hands skimming over her breasts and hips. Finally, I rinse us both off and step out of the shower.

  I throw a towel around my waist and grab the robe to offer it to her.

  Switching off the shower, she steps into the robe, and I wrap it snugly around her.

  I lead her through to my room, and out into hers, so she can get dry and change. I watch, perfectly at peace, as she picks out clean underwear and cozy pajamas and applies moisturizer to her skin.

  “Let me know if you need any more products or anything else. Whatever you want, just ask and it’s yours.”

  She smiles. “All I want right now is for you to get dressed so we can grab some dinner. I’m starving.”

  I laugh at her ordering me around — I kind of like it — and do as she says, quickly heading to my room to throw on sweatpants and a tank top. I meet her at the top of the stairs, and we head down to the kitchen and ask the cook to prepare minestrone soup for supper.

  When the cook brings in the soup on two trays, along with some freshly baked bread, Alessandra and I sit side-by-side on the couch, and I ask, “What do you want to watch?”

  “Something light and laid-back,” she replies, tearing off a hunk of her bread and dipping it into her soup.

  I scroll through the streaming service until I come across The Great British Baking Show, and assuming a show about cakes and pastries will be lighthearted, ask, “What about this?”

  She glances at the screen and smiles. “Sure.”

  Her smile makes my heart light, and I want to do everything within my power to always make her smile.

  “I was thinking of taking the day off tomorrow. Maybe we could do something together?” I suggest.

  She glances over, her eyes widening, and she smiles again, this time wider than before. “I’d like that.”

  As she continues to eat her soup, I think of all the things we could do together the following day — I plan on asking the cook to make a special breakfast and waking Alessandra up in the best way possible. I text my second, Donte, asking him to take care of business the following day. As I knew he would, he doesn’t ask any questions as to why I won’t be there, but assures me everything is in safe hands.

  Knowing business will be taken care of, I go back to mentally planning my and Alessandra's day, thinking I’d like us to take a shower together again and spend the whole day in bed, exploring each other’s bodies.

  After dinner, we slowly become absorbed in The Great British Baking Show, getting sucked in by its charm and simplicity. She snuggles up to me, her head lying in my lap and my arm wrapped around her shoulder. My hand finds its way into her hair, my fingers entwining with the soft, curly strands.

  When I laugh at something absurd on the show, but Alessandra doesn’t respond, I look down to see she’s fallen asleep on my lap. Not that I blame her — it’s been a long day. I yawn softly and then maneuver her so I can stand without disturbing her. Once on my feet, I switch off the TV and lights, then gently scoop her into my arms. I carry her upstairs, but unlike the first night I brought her here, I’m faced with the choice of which room to bring her to. After a moment’s debate, I decide on my room. I want to wake up with her in my arms in the morning.

  I gently lay her down in my bed and get in beside her. I pull her into my arms, and she murmurs sleepily.

  “Sweet dreams,” I say, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

  She tightens her embrace around me, and drifts back into sleep. It doesn’t take me long to join her, and for the first time in years, I fall to sleep easily.

  18

  Alessandra

  When I wake the following morning, the first thing I’m aware of is that I’m not alone. I glance across to where Massimo is sleeping, looking utterly at peace with his dark hair splayed on the pillow. I gently trace the shape of his jawline with my fingertip, feeling the light graze of stubble that’s grown overnight. I’m entranced by his fine features; with his strong jaw and straight nose, he could have been a model in another life.

  He certainly has the body for it.

  Memories of the day before flood my mind, and I feel my body heat and wetness pool between my legs.

  Holy fuck.

  No man I’ve been with has made me feel like Massimo did. I’ve only had a few boyfriends, and my first sexual experience was predictably awkward. The last serious relationship I was in, things were good. Or so I thought until Massimo did things to my body I didn’t know were possible. After I’d pleasured him, he was free to focus entirely on me, and instead of getting his fill and leaving, Massimo had more than repaid me in kind. He’d lavished attention on my body, so the result was the most mind-shattering orgasm I’ve ever experienced.

  The nub between my legs tingles just thinking about it, and I’m about to wake Massimo, with my mouth around his long, thick cock, when a thought in the back of my mind stills me.

  You’re still his prisoner.

  I slowly climb out of bed and tiptoe across the room so I don’t wake him and sneak back into my room. Once there, I close the door and collapse on my bed with a sigh.

  Would Massimo set me free if I asked him? I wonder. We could get to know each other properly and go on actual dates. If I was given the choice, the freedom, that would make us more equal to each other.

  You’re not his equal, a spiteful voice in the back of my mind says. You’re his plaything, to do with as he wishes.

  I try to push the thought from my mind, to tell myself that isn’t true, but I can’t shake the notion… Massimo only wants me because he can control me. And while I’m more than willing to relinquish control to him in the bedroom, I won’t surrender my freedom and my entire life to him.


  The blood burns through my veins as I stand up from my bed and march back into his room. He’s sitting up, looking around groggily, as though he’s just waking up.

  “Everything okay?” he asks sleepily.

  “No,” I say bluntly.

  My reply seems to push any lingering tiredness from Massimo, and he sits upright, his eyes wide. “What is it? Has your father been in contact?”

  I can’t suppress the eye roll. Of course that’s his first thought, nevermind the fact he still has my phone so there’s no way of my father making contact without Massimo knowing.

  “No, of course he hasn’t. I don’t have my phone, and…”

  Massimo lets out a breath of relief and pats the bed beside him. “What is it then? Whatever is wrong, you can tell me.”

  I don’t join him on the bed, but I let the tension out of my body, willing myself to believe that maybe I’ve gotten it wrong, that maybe Massimo will surprise me.

  “I want to leave,” I tell him simply.

  He scrambles out of bed and hurriedly crosses the room to me, but freezes a few feet away when my body goes rigid. His jaw is rigid, and he hisses out a breath. “Fuck.”

  “Will you let me leave here if I want?”

  He sighs and rakes his hands through his hair. “Alessandra, but you know I can’t do that. Your father has to pay for what he did to my family.”

  I want to look away; I want to run from the room. I should have known that would be his response, but I foolishly believed he cared. I refuse to show he hurt me, though, and instead, face him head-on with an icy glare.

  “That’s all I am to you, isn’t it? A way to get revenge.”

  He cautiously takes a couple of steps closer to me, but I fold my arms across my chest, making it clear he can’t come nearer.

  “No, of course not. Not after yesterday.”

  “Then let me leave,” I repeat.

  “I can’t, Alessandra. Without you, my plan won’t work, I’ll never have the revenge I deserve. But I swear to you, the moment I have your father, you’re free to go. And until then, this house is your home, and I’m at your service.”

  Massimo’s offer is tempting… I’ve been happy here. I could continue to be happy here, and I don’t want things between him and I to end when they’ve barely just begun. But then I think about my mother and Taylor worrying over my safety and all the other people I’ve left behind. I don’t think I can ever entirely go back to my old life, not now that I know the truth about who and what my father is. Not now that I've tasted what Massimo can offer me. But that doesn’t mean I want to discard everything from my old life. And I will not trade one gilded cage for another. In so many respects I was my father’s prisoner — always told what to do, where to go. Hell, he even chose my first boyfriend for me.

  I can’t submit to that kind of control again.

  “It’s not enough, Massimo. I want to let my mother know I’m okay. I want to be allowed to leave the house as I like.”

  He is silent for a moment, as if considering my words, and finally, he says, “I’m sorry. If you were asking for anything else, you could have it, no questions asked. But I can’t let you go or contact the outside world. If I do that, your father will realize you’re not in danger and won’t agree to my demands. And if he doesn’t agree to my demands, I’ll never get revenge.”

  “So, revenge is more important to you than me? Than us having a chance of actually dating?”

  He bows his head, and that’s all the answer I need. I stalk out of the room. I return to my room, not that anything in this house is really mine. I close the door, and to make sure Massimo can’t follow me, I drag the vanity table across to block it.

  As expected, a few moments later, he tries to open the door, and when he can’t, he bangs on it.

  “Alessandra, please, just hear me out. Revenge isn’t more important than you, but I need to do this. Your father needs to pay for what he did to my mother and Bianca. Just cooperate with me, and we both get what we want.”

  Cooperation implies both parties receive something from the bargain, but from where I stand, Massimo gets what he wants while I remain his prisoner. Knowing the argument will continue to go around in circles, I don’t respond.

  He bangs harder on my door, but I continue to ignore him. Then he tries forcing the door open, but the fact the vanity table barely moves tells me he isn’t putting in his full effort. He could enter the room if he really wanted, but it seems there are still some lines he’s unwilling to cross. A moment later, I hear footsteps on the stairs and I know he’s gone.

  I’m not sure if he is still in the house or not, but either way, I do nothing to stop the tears that come. I was stupid for thinking he’d choose me, choose what we might have together over revenge against my father.

  You spent one night together. Do you really think that means he cares about you? the spiteful voice in the back of my mind taunts. He got what he wanted from you.

  Maybe luring me into bed was all part of his plan to humiliate my father? That thought causes a cold feeling to wash over me, and a lump forms in my throat as I realize Massimo used me...

  19

  Massimo

  For a few hours I go to work, but it’s impossible to concentrate on anything. My head is filled with Alessandra, and nothing but Alessandra. If I close my eyes, I can still see her face and hear her voice.

  Finally, it gets to be too much for me, so I leave Donte in charge of business, instead finding myself driving past the Giuliani estate. Anything to feel connected to Alessandra. From a distance, I peer through the windows with binoculars, trying to spot Stefano to see if he’s doing anything to rescue his daughter. But Giuliani is nowhere in sight — I don’t know if he’s holed up in the house or hidden somewhere else. Then I see Mrs. Giuliani leave, and for a moment, I’m so struck by her resemblance to Alessandra that it steals my breath away.

  I shake the thought from my head and follow Mrs. Giuliani to the police station. I assume she’s talking to them about Alessandra's disappearance, and I wonder if she knows her husband received a call from Alessandra and just doesn’t want to agree to the terms of her release.

  I wait outside the police station until she emerges, her eyes bloodshot and her cheeks stained with tears.

  Alessandra’s words from our fight come back to haunt me: “It’s not enough, Massimo. I want to let my mother know I’m okay. I want to be allowed to leave the house as I like.”

  My heart aches, and I want to give Alessandra the freedom she deserves. But I know doing so means I will never get my revenge.

  Is revenge even worth it if you lose her forever? my heart screams.

  I imagine my life, my future, without Alessandra, and it seems hollow and empty.

  And then I know… revenge no longer matters.

  Alessandra is what’s important.

  I pull out of the police station parking lot, making people nearby turn and look in my direction at the sound of tires screeching on the asphalt.

  I speed across the city, foolishly running lights and not slowing down until I’m pulling up outside the rental house where Alessandra is safely inside.

  I enter the security code and make my way up the drive, my heart hammering. Now that I’ve made my decision, every minute away from Alessandra is torture.

  When I enter the house she isn’t anywhere in sight — there’s just Alfred in the kitchen making lunch — so I race up the stairs and rush into Alessandra’s room without thinking to knock.

  She stiffens and turns toward me slowly. She blinks several times, as though she can’t believe what she’s seeing, and then climbs to her feet. She charges toward me, hammering her fists on my chest like she did the first day she was here.

  “You asshole. You abandoned me. I thought you were never coming back. I thought I’d be trapped here forever.” Her fury makes way for tears, and she collapses against me.

  My shoulders slump, and heat blazes through my body. “I’m sorry. I should have c
ome back sooner. I shouldn’t have made you think you were never getting out of here.”

  She stalks through to her bedroom and sits her down on the bed. With narrowed eyes she asks, “Why did you come back? You know my father will never agree to your demands —”

  “That doesn’t matter now. None of that matters. I’m setting you free. Give me the word and I’ll take you home.”

  Her eyes widen. “What?”

  “I don’t care about revenge anymore, not if it means I lose you, Alessandra.”

  She presses her lips against mine. I wrap my arms around her and lose myself in the sensation of our mouths moving together, my tongue swirling against hers. I gently press her back against the mattress, my hand reaching for the hem of her shirt, when her eyes open and her body stiffens.

  “Are you okay?” I ask softly.

  “What’s all this about, Massimo? If you’re offering me freedom in an attempt to manipulate me again, it’s not going to work. I’m not going to be anyone’s pawn any longer.”

  I remove my hand and sit up, pulling her with me so I can look into her eyes.

  “You’re not my pawn,” I insist.

  “So all this… being nice to me, getting me into bed, wasn’t all part of your plan to get revenge against my father?”

  I swallow a deep breath, knowing if I admit the truth it could end everything between her and I. But I also know if I’m not honest with her now, there’s no moving forward. Either way, I could lose her. But lying and manipulation has gotten me nowhere. It’s time for the truth…