Captured By The Mafia Boss

Captured By The Mafia Boss

Omooba

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Unbeknownst to Heaton , the man she met that fateful day would alter her life in the most dreadful manner. She was on the verge of being forcibly wed to a ruthless loan shark, courtesy of her conniving uncle's family. Just when she found a way to escape, everything crumbled as Noel , the dreaded kingpin of the underworld, ensnared her, robbing her of the one thing she cherished most-her freedom. Noel basked in the fear, respect, and reverence his name commanded in the city. But his reputation faced an unexpected trial when a familiar stranger brazenly pilfered from him right under his nose. A simmering anger fueled his relentless pursuit to hunt down the audacious pickpocket. Once he captured Heaton , Noel was determined to make her pay for dHeaton ng to cross him. Meanwhile, Heaton harbored an intense loathing for him and would stop at nothing to break free from the clutches of the menacing Mafia. Little did they know that amidst the chaos, an unexpected twist of fate might lead to a heart heist like no other. Read on to unravel the captivating tale.

Chapter 1 Unwanted Wake-Up Call

Heaton was abruptly roused from her sleep by the cacophony of crashing objects. She shot out of bed, her heart pounding, and irritation etching lines on her face. It wasn't even six in the morning. The source of the commotion was most likely her cousin, Claudia, known for her tantrums and outrageous demands.

Claudia was the pampered princess of the family, and she made sure everyone knew it. Her uncle had taken Heaton in after her father's passing, but living with them felt like a never-ending nightmare. Heaton had become the family's unofficial maid and punching bag, enduring physical and emotional abuse from Claudia and her aunt.

Heaton had no intention of getting involved in another one of Claudia's outbursts. She knew that when Claudia lost her temper, things tended to fly through the air. Instead, Heaton buried her head back into her pillow, hoping for a few more minutes of sleep. However, a loud, urgent knock on her door shattered that hope.

Panicked and unusual for their housekeeper, Susan's tone told Heaton that something was seriously wrong. "Susan!" Heaton exclaimed, opening her door. "What's happening? I hear a lot of noise."

"I'm sorry, miss, but you need to come downstairs and see for yourself," Susan replied, already ushering her down the stairs.

They hurried down to the source of the commotion. The noise grew louder with each step, and Heaton 's heart raced. When she reached the bottom of the staircase, she was met with a terrifying sight-strangers, seemingly gangsters, were wrecking their living room. Her heart sank. How had they managed to breach the security?

A quick glance to the corner revealed her aunt and cousin huddled together in fear, their screams echoing each time something shattered. It was clear that the intruders enjoyed terrorizing them.

Although terrified, Heaton couldn't simply stand by. This was her home too, and she'd bear the brunt of her aunt's wrath if she did nothing. She gathered her courage and approached the chaos. "What's going on here?" she demanded.

However, her question only seemed to incite the intruders further. They continued their destruction, ignoring her. Frustration and anger coursed through Heaton 's veins, and she raised her voice, quoting a legal statute she'd memorized.

"Sec. 19-77. - Entering property of another for the purpose of damaging it: It shall be unlawful for any person to enter the land, dwelling, outhouse, or any other building of another for the purpose of damaging such property or any of the contents thereof or in any manner to interfere with the rights of the owner, user or the occupant thereof to use such property free from interference. Any person violating this section shall be guilty of a Class 1 misdemeanor!"

This time, her words did get their attention. The intruders turned to her, and the room fell silent. She felt their piercing gazes on her, and for a moment, she regretted her outburst.

Then, one of the men stepped forward, clapping slowly and we Heaton ng a mocking smile. "Finally, a lawyer in her midst," he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

Heaton lifted her chin. "I'm not a lawyer, but every citizen should know their rights. Now, what's the meaning of this madness? You can't just come into someone's home and act like you own the place."

The man's arrogance persisted. "You're right, I can't just come in. But the law should have taught your family not to take a loan without paying it back."

Heaton 's face paled as the horrifying truth dawned on her. These were not mere gangsters; they were ruthless loan sharks. She couldn't believe it.

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Too Late: The Spare Daughter Escapes Him

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I died on a Tuesday. It wasn't a quick death. It was slow, cold, and meticulously planned by the man who called himself my father. I was twenty years old. He needed my kidney to save my sister. The spare part for the golden child. I remember the blinding lights of the operating theater, the sterile smell of betrayal, and the phantom pain of a surgeon's scalpel carving into my flesh while my screams echoed unheard. I remember looking through the observation glass and seeing him-my father, Giovanni Vitiello, the Don of the Chicago Outfit-watching me die with the same detached expression he used when signing a death warrant. He chose her. He always chose her. And then, I woke up. Not in heaven. Not in hell. But in my own bed, a year before my scheduled execution. My body was whole, unscarred. The timeline had reset, a glitch in the cruel matrix of my existence, giving me a second chance I never asked for. This time, when my father handed me a one-way ticket to London-an exile disguised as a severance package-I didn't cry. I didn't beg. My heart, once a bleeding wound, was now a block of ice. He didn't know he was talking to a ghost. He didn't know I had already lived through his ultimate betrayal. He also didn't know that six months ago, during the city's brutal territory wars, I was the one who saved his most valuable asset. In a secret safe house, I stitched up the wounds of a blinded soldier, a man whose life hung by a thread. He never saw my face. He only knew my voice, the scent of vanilla, and the steady touch of my hands. He called me Sette. Seven. For the seven stitches I put in his shoulder. That man was Dante Moretti. The Ruthless Capo. The man my sister, Isabella, is now set to marry. She stole my story. She claimed my actions, my voice, my scent. And Dante, the man who could spot a lie from a mile away, believed the beautiful deception because he wanted it to be true. He wanted the golden girl to be his savior, not the invisible sister who was only ever good for her spare parts. So I took the ticket. In my past life, I fought them, and they silenced me on an operating table. This time, I will let them have their perfect, gilded lie. I will go to London. I will disappear. I will let Seraphina Vitiello die on that plane. But I will not be a victim. This time, I will not be the lamb led to slaughter. This time, from the shadows of my exile, I will be the one holding the match. And I will wait, with the patience of the dead, to watch their entire world burn. Because a ghost has nothing to lose, and a queen of ashes has an empire to gain.

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