Belonging to the Italian Mafia Boss: A Dark Mafia Arranged Marriage Romance (Possessive Mafia Kings Book 7)

Belonging to the Italian Mafia Boss: Chapter 2



One of his men drove me back to the infamous Trullo property where I knew his highest-level men lived alongside him. My father hadn’t cared enough to do his research so long as he got the alliance with the powerful Trullos, but I’d taken every opportunity to read about the house and what to expect inside. I, unlike my father, cared about my future, and I knew that information would help me survive.

I knew that my wits would be the only thing that would keep me safe. Nobody had ever bothered looking out for me. I could only trust myself to do that.

Even with all the reading I’d done, I found that little was known about the inner workings of this man and his people.

I wasn’t afraid of getting married. I hadn’t been afraid when one of my father’s men walked me down the aisle in the gaudy white dress that I wanted to burn to embers. I wasn’t even scared when everyone around me went down in an array of bullets.

Now, though, surrounded by enemies and knowing that I was expendable in every possible way, I felt the tight coils of fear wrap around my belly as I was escorted up a spiraling staircase in a rustically decorated manner. I followed obediently, expecting a room similar to the one I’d held at our family house. Concrete floors. Unsealed, drafty windows, maybe even a cell, knowing that I was nothing more than a prisoner with the title of “wife.”

But as the guard guided me down a hallway and pushed me into a room, I could only gape at what I was seeing. This room was ten times the size of my tiny, closet-like room at our home. The floors were wooden, and a fur rug settled beneath the bed, expanding in all directions a few additional feet. A stand with coffee mugs and a Keurig sat on one side of the room, and to the left was an attached bathroom.

It wasn’t a cell.

I allowed myself to settle on the queen-sized bed, rubbing the plush comforter with one hand as I considered how I’d gotten here. I knew this day was coming, especially when my father had kept me locked up for years as he negotiated the best way to use me to his benefit. This marriage was what he’d settled on, and I couldn’t decide if the relative freedom from the arrangements was worth the terrors I’d expected by coming here.

My father had deserved to die a much longer, drawn-out death than the one he’d been given, and for that, I felt no sympathy.

I’d been nothing to him. I’d been a piece of meat he could use for his benefit, and I couldn’t imagine a day I would ever grieve him, especially knowing that I was only here because of a bargain he’d made.

Now, I had Bruce Trullo, another mafia boss, as a husband and captor. I now lived in his house alongside all the other misfits and criminals who followed him.

What a fucking life.

I flung myself backward, forcing myself to take a deep breath as I considered how I could get out of this situation. All I wanted—all I’d ever wanted—was to be free. I didn’t care to give him everything as long as he let me go, but I knew there would always be more he needed from me. And even after I handed over everything, I knew how the game worked. As the last Rizzo heir, I’d still be a threat—one substantial enough that he’d never let me go.

I didn’t know how long I sat there before the door to my room clicked unlocked and swung open, but I’d been nearly asleep. Pushing away the feeling of exhaustion, I pulled myself to my feet swiftly, stumbling sideways slightly as my equilibrium readjusted.

Bruce stood in the doorway, looking me up and down slowly. My skin crawled as his gaze shamelessly paused on my breasts, tight beneath the still-stained wedding dress.

“You didn’t change,” he commented.

I narrowed my eyes. “I don’t exactly have an abundance of clothes to choose from, do I?”

He took a slow step forward with pursed lips, and I had to force myself not to step away from him. He dwarfed me as I stood nearly a foot shorter than him, despite my pulled-back shoulders and upturned gaze. I knew I should have feared him. I watched how brutally he’d killed my father, and I knew he wouldn’t hesitate to kill me if I gave him enough of a reason.

If I were being honest, I couldn’t understand why he hadn’t killed me yet.

“Do I give you the impression that I want to listen to you back talk?” he asked.

I forced myself to breathe through the fear that plastered itself into every single part of me. “No,” I told him.

“No, sir,” he corrected. “You will refer to me as sir out of respect for saving your life.”

“You’re not saving my life by not killing me,” I retorted, biting my tongue before I could say more. I wasn’t ignorant, and I didn’t need to be on his bad side. “Sir,” I spat.

A coy smile pulled onto his lips. “We need to talk, Sabrina. As you know, you’re alive to help me take control of your family’s assets and businesses. We have limited time before someone else challenges me for it, and at that point, there will be no reason to keep you alive. You’re here because you can help me. Do you understand?”

I nodded, keeping my mouth shut.

Like a viper, he snatched my chin and raised my head further. My eyes locked on his cool black eyes. Tinges of brown appeared around the pupil, and I wondered if the brown was a way to prove he wasn’t as evil as people believed. Wincing at the tight grasp on my chin, I had a feeling that was not the case.

“I asked you a question,” he said.

“I thought you wanted me to say nothing more than ‘sir,’” I said. I swore that his eyes lightened with my words, but it was gone before I could tell for sure.

“I want you to use common sense. I imagine you have at least an inkling of common sense behind those pretty eyes, or did I misjudge you?”

“I thought that someone as serious as you would get to the point,” I mused, popping the P and jerking my chin out of his grasp. I knew it was a bold move, but if he was going to make me stand before him in a wedding dress after he killed my father, I wasn’t going to treat him as if he were my savior.

“Oh, Sabrina,” he said as he took a step closer. This time, barely a whisp of air rested between us. My heart sped up as he stood there, looking down at me with eyes I couldn’t quite read. “You are going to be difficult to break, aren’t you?”

“I don’t break,” I told him.

“Everyone does. It’s just a matter of how long it will take.”

I wondered precisely how true that was as my insides warmed from his closeness. My traitorous body was rebelling against me. I shouldn’t be feeling this, and I forced myself to shut down—to shut everything down.

“Why didn’t you react to your father’s death?” he asked.

The question broke my trance, and I took a small step back. Had it been so obvious that I didn’t look hurt by his death? “I don’t think that’s the reason you came in here,” I told him.

He didn’t say anything for a long moment as he stared at me, but I didn’t allow my expression to waver. Years of being punished for my thoughts and fears turned me cold, and I knew that no matter how hard he looked into my eyes, he’d find no sign of the inner turmoil I felt over this entire situation.

I was freed from one monster only to be brought to the den of another.

And this time, my body betrayed me and tried to convince me that he wasn’t a monster. My body wanted him, and I couldn’t let it take control.

“I came in here to tell you that we’re married, and with that title—with that certificate that marks you as mine—I will have everything I want one way or another. It all hinges on you cooperating.”

“Define cooperating.” I slammed my mouth shut. Damn it. I needed to do as he wanted and get out of this situation. I needed to be free, and then I could figure out what to do with my life from there.

I just had to get out of here first.

His eyes darkened, and his demeanor shifted. “You’re a smart girl, Sabrina. Don’t act like you don’t understand what’s happening here.”

I opened my mouth to retort once again, but the door behind Bruce slammed open, and he took a step back. For the first time in a few minutes, I managed to take a full deep breath. I hadn’t realized that I’d been taking nothing more than shallow ones since he stepped close, but the distance he put between us allowed me the room I needed to think.

I peered around him and found a familiar man—the one that stood behind him at our wedding—standing in the doorway. The tension between them was thick in the air, and I took another involuntary step back.

“What do you want, Tucker,” he asked.

“Tucker?” I whispered, not intending to speak but doing it anyways.

The man named Tucker shot a look in my direction. “You haven’t taken out the trash yet.”

That was offensive. Despite it, though, something about the man had me keeping my mouth shut. I’d watched as Bruce pulled the trigger and killed my father, but Tucker felt different to me. More predatory.

“I’m handling it.”

“I could have handled it back at the courthouse. I should have, actually. It would save us all this bullshit we’re involved in with paperwork and technicalities now. We could have fought for the territory faster than all this shit.”

“And lost hundreds of men,” Bruce countered. “You’re forgetting your place, brother.”

“I know my place, and I know that we should have ended her.” He swatted the air, realizing it was a moot point. “We have a meeting, and everyone is here.”

Tucker turned without being dismissed and walked out of the room. Bruce waited for just a moment before turning back to me and pinning me to my place with only his gaze. I waited, expecting him to bark another thinly veiled threat, but only one word left his mouth. “Behave.”

As he walked out of the room, following his brother, I couldn’t help but feel conflicted about the entire conversation. I shouldn’t have enjoyed bantering with him. I should have been terrified and conscious of the threat to my life, but I could only focus on the odd way my body reacted to him.

I had some serious problems, and those feelings were at the bottom of the list. Once I got out of here, I’d need to see a therapist or something, but getting out of this situation would be the first priority.

Right before he walked out of the door, he turned back to me and looked me up and down again, making me feel much smaller than I was. “You’re going to be a part of this meeting,” he said, “And you’re going to prove yourself to me.”

I looked down at the dress, wondering what this meeting would entail. “In this?”

He pursed his lips. “I’ll have you sent clothes, and then I expect you downstairs and presentable in ten minutes.”

He walked out of the room, and I slumped in the bed, burying my face in my hands. How the hell did I get myself into this situation?


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