Mated To The Mafia Werewolves

“The boss did,” Janice said.

Alessandro Fucking De Luca. Goodness, he was truly testing her patience, Arabella mused.

“Did you say something?” Janice furrowed her brows.

“I didn’t,” Arabella ground her teeth, her gaze locked onto the mirror.

“As you seem fine with it, shall we get going? It’s nearly time, and our boss doesn’t have a fondness for lateness. Although, you might be an exception, given his apparent fondness for you.”

“If you only knew my situation, you wouldn’t think that…” Arabella mumbled.

“Excuse me?” Janice inquired.

“Never mind. Let’s get going.”

Arabella took a deep breath, her stomach churning with knots. ‘Help me, dear Lord,’ she whispered as she walked out of the room with Janice.

They rounded three corners and passed ten rooms as Arabella counted before they arrived at a door.

“See you later,” Janice said, pointing to the door in front of them. “This is the boss’s bedroom.”

“Please, Janice,” Arabella clutched her hand just as Janice was about to move. “Stay with me a bit. Don’t leave me.”

“Oh!” Janice exclaimed, surprised by Arabella’s sudden embrace.

“He’s truly harmless, don’t be afraid,” Janice comforted, her hand gently stroking Arabella’s back.Published by Nôv'elD/rama.Org.

Arabella shook her head and held on tighter. She doubted that Janice’s perception of Alessandro was accurate. The man she had come to know was a ruthless murderer, devoid of emotion and unconcerned about her well-being.

Despite her resignation to her fate, Arabella didn’t want to be anywhere near him. The wicked gleam she had seen in his eyes promised nothing but torment, and she dreaded what he had planned for her.

“That’s enough now; the boss is waiting!” came a stern voice.

Arabella flinched, and Janice tightened her grip on Arabella’s hand. It was one of the guards she had spotted outside her door the previous day. Arabella shifted her gaze from his narrowed toffee-colored eyes to Janice’s.

“I must leave. I’ll be close by if you require my assistance later.” Janice said.

Arabella nodded, taking a deep breath as Janice silently mouthed, ‘Good luck.’

She desperately needed luck, yet she questioned if luck would truly be on her side.

The moment Arabella stepped into the room, an overpowering urge to dart right back out surged through her. Her sweaty palm found its place on her thumping chest as she remained rooted by the door.

Blinking rapidly, Arabella attempted to adjust her eyes to the room’s dim lighting. However, it was still too dim to discern even the faintest shadow. Despite the lack of any discernible presence, the scent that permeated the room contradicted this.

“Come here,” Sandro’s command cut through the air.

Arabella hesitated by the door. She scanned the room for him, trying to locate his form amidst the shadows.

Sandro was positioned beside the grand four-poster bed. He shifted away, making his way to the vanity. The wine glass in his hand found its place on the table’s surface.

“Do I need to make you come to me before you obey my orders?” His tone carried a note of impatience.

Involuntarily, Arabella shook her head, her worry apparent as she stumbled toward the room’s center.

Meeting her halfway, Sandro took hold of her hand. Gently lifting it to his lips, he pressed a kiss to her skin, a gesture that was followed by a chuckle that made Arabella shudder.

“You look ravishing,” he commented, a statement that would normally have earned a smile had it come from anyone else. But this was Sandro, and Arabella was at a loss on how to respond or even if it was intended as a compliment.

“I arranged for something special to be prepared for you. Please, enjoy it, Bellissima,” Sandro informed her.

Arabella shook her head, she was on the verge of protesting, but Sandro’s grip tightened, and before she knew it, she found herself pulled into a chair.

“Eat.”

“I don’t wish to,” Arabella muttered under her breath.

Sandro’s voice remained firm, his concern feigned, “You need your strength for what’s about to happen. It would be rather unfortunate for you to collapse midway.”

Her gaze met his, a mixture of fear and defiance swirling within her eyes, “What exactly do you stand to gain from all of this? Why are you subjecting me to these atrocities?”

“Hush,” Sandro leaned in close, his lips almost grazing her ear as he whispered, “I’ve already warned you about defying me. Would you prefer I punish you on an empty stomach?”

Arabella trembled, his voice weaving a web of emotions around her. The minty fragrance of his breath invaded her senses as she took a shaky breath and then shook her head.

“That’s a good girl. Now, eat up before I change my mind.”

Arabella’s gaze wandered to the spread of food in front of her. It seemed fit for at least ten people, far more than she could fathom. She couldn’t fathom what he was thinking, making them prepare such an extravagant feast.

She doubted she could even manage to finish half of the food. A soft grimace escaped her as her stomach let out an audible grumble.

“Betrayer,” she mumbled under her breath.

Arabella felt as though she had no choice but to comply. Even if she did, she knew she couldn’t challenge him in her current weakened state. She needed to regain her strength and consume the food before she was the way to do it.

After downing the contents of the wine glass, Arabella pushed the remaining food away. She felt full, having barely made a dent in the spread before her, contrary to her initial assumption.

Or perhaps her lack of appetite had something to do with Sandro’s presence. He was seated a few paces away, his eyes seemingly fixed on her every move.

With a hesitant rise, Arabella stood, mirroring Sandro as he also got up.

“I wasn’t expecting you to finish everything, but I am impressed. You certainly have a healthy appetite,” Sandro remarked.

Arabella nodded in response.

“Now, where do we begin?” Sandro strode towards her, tapping his chin thoughtfully with his hand, a faint smile playing on his lips.

Seated on the sofa in the center of the room, he crossed his legs gracefully. “Come and stand before me, darling.”

Arabella moved hesitantly towards him, coming to a halt as he signaled with his hand.

“Now, strip.”

“W-what?” Stunned, Arabella blinked, her eyes widening in shock.

“I want you to undress for me, slowly. And think very carefully before considering refusal because…” He smoothly retrieved a gun from the pocket of the leather jacket he was wearing and leveled it at her.

“I won’t hesitate to shoot you right now.”