Owned by the Mafia boss: The teacher's fate

ora'

y first class, facing rows of wealthy, sharp-eyed students, I

t, some even bored. These children had been raised with pow

sn't int

rally. The nerves I had carried all morning faded, replaced by

's what I thought

d with quiet conversations. I was pouring mysel

e new teac

ding in the doorway. He had dark brown hair, sharp blue eye

ing. "You must be o

efore walking closer. "I'm L

r un

. "Riccar

chill down my spine. It was fam

head. "You don't

ted. "Sh

that sounded too knowing for

ask more, a voice called fro

g that the entire lounge fell silent. His sharp, calculating gaze lande

ccardo is

efore walking away, leaving me

tly was

is name feel

-

ardo'

his small hands adjusting his schoolbag. I

who you are," he s

, lowerin

O

xpression that reminded me of m

he girl was clueless. A sweet lit

would cha

eem afraid

his head.

t

y seat, a slow smi

uld cha

y s