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I never imagined that my life would change the moment I was taken. A love I didn't choose, a world I can't escape. As the daughter of a powerful senator, I was no stranger to danger, but nothing could have prepared me for the cold, unforgiving world of Alessandro Ricci. He is everything I feared-a ruthless mafia don with eyes as dark as his past, a man who commands power with an iron fist. He didn't take me out of kindness. I was merely a pawn in his game of revenge. What I expected was simple: brutality, threats, maybe even death. What I never anticipated was the pull of emotions that began to stir between us. He is a monster-scarred, tortured, and cruel-but somewhere beneath his cold exterior, I saw a man. A man who, like me, is haunted by a past that won't let go. I fought him. I fought myself. And yet, each day I spent in his world, I found myself wondering-was I safer with him than I had ever been outside? The stolen glances, the quiet conversations, the touches that lingered too long-they blurred the line between captor and captive. I couldn't deny it any longer: I was drawn to him. But love in this world? It's dangerous. The closer I get to him, the more perilous it becomes. Enemies lurk, Isabella's jealousy threatens to tear us apart, and the mafia's web tightens around us. I'm torn-should I trust the feelings that are growing, or is this a trap I'll never escape? In the end, there are only two possibilities-love that could save us both, or a passion that will destroy everything we've built. One wrong move, and it could all come crashing down. This isn't just my story, it's a fight for my heart, my life, and a love that might ruin us both. Read Bound by the Mafia and dare to fall with me!
Chapter 1 THE CAPTIVE AND THE CAPTOR
"You Took the Wrong Girl"
"What the hell do you think you're doing?!"
My voice cracked against the metal interior of the van, the words bouncing off the walls like ricocheting bullets. The black cloth bag had been ripped from my head minutes ago, but the ropes still cut into my wrists. My pulse thudded against them, hot and angry.
"Sit still," one of the men barked. His accent was thick-Napolitano, probably from the harbor. Rough hands shoved me back against the van's side.
"Do you know who I am?" I hissed. "You better pray my father doesn't find you first."
The driver laughed. "That's the point, principessa. Your father already knows. He's the reason you're here."
I froze. My stomach twisted. Not from the motion of the van, but from the truth behind those words. My father-Senator Lorenzo D'Angelo-he had enemies, sure. But to sell me off? No. He wouldn't.
...Would he?
The van braked hard. Tires screeched. Doors flung open. Hands pulled me out and into cold air thick with brine and twilight.
The villa loomed in front of me like a beast carved from stone and shadows, perched on the edge of the cliff like it had been waiting for centuries to devour the disobedient.
Then, he stepped into the light.
Tall. Calm. Dangerous.
Alessandro Ricci.
A black suit hugged his lean frame, and his hands rested lazily in his pockets like he had all the time in the world and owned it, too. But it was his eyes-void-black, emotionless-that scraped at something inside me.
"Senator D'Angelo sends his regards," he said.
My mouth parted. "You're a psychopath."
"Maybe," he said, stepping closer. "But your father made a promise he couldn't keep. I'm here to collect the interest."
I was dragged inside before I could spit in his face.
But I would. I promised myself that.
If I didn't kill him first.
The door shut behind me with a sound that could've been a gunshot. The walls were painted soft blue, too soft for a place like this, like a nurse pretending to be a nun in a slaughterhouse.
I stood still. My heart was a fist, punching the inside of my ribs.
The bed was too neat. The curtains too clean. The silence too thick.
I spun when the door creaked open again. Alessandro walked in, like he owned the air itself.
"You can scream if you want," he said. "No one will hear you."
"I don't scream," I said. "I stab."
A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. Not a smile. No warmth.
"I'm not here to hurt you, Valeria."
"Oh, sure. Kidnapping is the modern mafia version of a meet-cute now?"
His expression hardened. "If I wanted you dead, you'd already be in the sea."
I moved toward him. "Then what do you want?"
He paused. "Insurance."
There it was. The game. My father's debts. His sins. Paid with my body, my presence, my silence.
"You think using me will make him pay?" I asked.
"No," he said. "I think using you will make him break."
That's when I understood.
I wasn't a hostage.
I was a weapon.
I didn't sleep that night. I sat by the window, knees pulled to my chest, watching the black sea crawl under the moon. Naples glittered far away, but it felt like another world. Another life.
The door opened quietly.
Not the guards.
Not the maid.
Him.
Alessandro stepped into the room like a ghost wrapped in expensive fabric.
I didn't look at him.
"Couldn't sleep?" he asked.
"I don't sleep well next to criminals."
He chuckled softly, like I was amusing.
"You know," he said, standing by the window, "you're braver than I thought."
"And you're more pathetic than I imagined."
He leaned on the windowsill, his face turning toward me. "Your father betrayed you. Not me."
I flinched. Not at the truth, but how close he was to it.
"You think I care what he did?" I whispered. "I've hated him my whole life."
His eyes narrowed. Something flickered. Surprise? Recognition?
I stood and squared my shoulders. "But don't think that makes me yours."
"No," he said. "Not yet."
He walked out.
And left the door... unlocked.
I waited until the hallway was silent-no footsteps, no murmurs, no shifting weight. Just the hum of air and the pounding of blood in my ears.
The door creaked open without resistance.
Every hair on my body stood alert.
I moved fast, barefoot, creeping through the stone corridor like a shadow. My breath came in shallow puffs. One wrong turn. One wrong creak. And I'd be dead.
I reached the stairs. Just a few more steps to freedom. The front door loomed like salvation.
Then-
"Going somewhere?"
I spun.
Isabella.
She leaned against the banister, arms crossed, smile sharp as a blade.
She was beautiful. Cold, elegant, dangerous.
"You must be Valeria," she said. "The senator's little gem."
"Move."
She laughed. "You really don't know where you are, do you?"
I lunged, but before I could touch her, a steel arm caught me from behind.
Giovanni. Ricci's dog.
"Let me go!" I screamed, thrashing.
He held me firm. "Nice try, bambina."
"Alessandro will kill you for this," I hissed.
Isabella sauntered closer, brushing a blond strand behind her ear. "Oh, darling. Alessandro let you try."
Her smile turned cruel.
"And now he knows exactly what you're capable of."
Giovanni shoved me toward the stairs. I stumbled back to the room, every step burning with humiliation.
The door slammed shut behind me.
And locked this time.
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