The Mafia's Vengeful Desire

she walked toward her car in the dimly lit parking lot. The evening was quiet, with only the distant hum of traffic breaking

wrapped around her from behind, pinning her arms to her sides. She tried

surged through her, adrenaline flooding her veins. She strugg

old, emotionless, sending a chill down Isabella's spine. She fought harder, her heart pounding in her chest. But

ore she could even think of trying to escape, a needle pricked the side of her neck. Darkness enveloped he

**

he blinked, trying to make sense of her surroundings. Her vision was blurry, but she could make out the dim outlines of

oom was small and windowless, illuminated only by a single, naked light bulb hanging from the ceiling. Its weak glow cast eerie shadows on the concrete walls. Her heart raced as the memory of the abduction

stepped into the room. He was tall, with broad shoulders and a commanding presence. His face was hidden behind a black

ded, her voice shaky but defi

own with an unreadable expression. For a moment, Isabella thought she s

ing. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small device. Isabella'

er skin and activated it. A surge of electricity coursed through her body, sending a jolt of pain through her nerves. She screamed, the

ce barely above a whisper. "Plea

d left the room, closing the door behind him. Isabella was left alone, her body still shaking from t

r family, her friends. Did they know she was missing? Were they looking for her? She clu

faces uncovered. One was middle-aged, with a stern, weathered face and graying hair. The othe

Montefalco," he said, his voice a low

r. "No, I don't. I don't know why you're d

the corners of his mouth. "It's not about what you've done,

do you mean?"

. "You're the daughter of Teresa Montefalco," he said, each

o do with her? Her mother had passed away years ago, le

voice trembling. "My mother...she's

enty. Your mother was involved with someone she

ways been secretive about her past. A lot of questions lingered in her mind. Co

protested, tears filling her eyes. "I didn

It doesn't matter," he said coldly. "You're a Montefalco,

ered, her voice barely

replied, a hint of amusement in his tone. "Bu

was a whirlwind of fear and confusion. The mafia. Her mother's past. The boss who

was trapped, a pawn in a game she didn't understand. And the worst part was the growing sense

her from the chair, but before she could even think of escaping, they forced her to her feet and dragg

panicked, her knees were trembling.

with the scent of mold. Isabella's heart pounded in her chest as they approached a heavy, orna

vishly furnished, with rich, dark wood and elegant decor. At the far end of the room stood a ma

ritative. The guards shoved her forward, and she stumb

gerous way. His eyes were cold and calculating, his expression unreadable. He took a step toward her, h

ce a low, dangerous purr. "I've been wa

duction. She had no idea who he was, but she knew one thing for certain-he was the boss being mentioned