The Mafia King’s Doll

Skylar

Sitting out on the balcony, I stare at the city lights.

I’m only wearing a pair of shorts and an oversized T-shirt, and it’s starting to get chilly.

Rubbing my hands up and down my arms, I think about the past five days.

I’m starting to get used to the new routine. I prepare three meals every day, even when Renzo’s not home. When I’m alone, I watch the live stream, taking every chance I get to see Dad.

He’s not doing well. He hasn’t shaved and spends a lot of time in my bedroom, just staring at the floor.

My heart breaks seeing him like that, but part of me is angry because he bought the kidney on the black market, and now I’m a deranged mafia boss’ prisoner.

I understand why Dad did it, but I still feel it was my choice to make and not his. It’s hard to accept a man died because of me.

If I could turn back time, I would’ve chosen death instead of getting the surgery because the torment I’m forced to endure in this penthouse is no life at all.

Knowing all my hopes and dreams are once again out of reach is a hard pill to swallow.

It’s much more difficult than the first time I had to give up on them.

The skin at the back of my neck prickles, and my body instantly tenses.

Not once since I got here has Renzo come into my room. Feeling his eyes on me, my heartbeat speeds up, and I swallow hard on the fear tightening my throat.

After he suddenly lunged at me two nights ago, he hasn’t spoken a word to me, and I’ve only seen him at dinner.

A drop of rain splats on my knee, and I glance up at the dark sky. A flash of lightning strikes in the distance, and another drop lands on my forehead.

Knowing I can’t afford to get sick, I reluctantly get up and walk back into the bedroom. When I pull the sliding door shut, I still feel Renzo’s eyes on me.

Sucking in a deep breath, I turn around and see him leaning against the doorjamb, his arms crossed over his chest.

I have zero intention of being the first to speak, and copying his stance, I lean against the wall and cross my arms.

The stand-off lasts for unnervingly long minutes before he murmurs, “I’m surprised you haven’t tried to escape.”

I shrug. “I’m not going to risk my father’s life. You’ve made it pretty clear you’ll kill him if I try anything.”

“So you’re just going to lie back and take it?” he asks. “I was under the impression you’re a fighter and not someone who gives up so easily.”

His words have anger exploding in my chest, and pushing away from the wall, I walk in the direction of the bathroom so I can get away from him before I say something that will get Dad and me killed.

Before I can make it past the bed, Renzo grabs hold of my arm and tugs me closer until my shoulder presses against his solid chest.

His tone is low as he asks, “Do you think you’re innocent in my little brother’s death?”

I close my eyes as the guilt rears in my heart.

Not looking at Renzo, I answer, “It wasn’t my choice.” “What would you have chosen?”

I suck in a deep breath of air as the days before the surgery ghost through my mind.

My voice is soft as I say, “I made peace with dying. I wouldn’t have agreed to the surgery had I known they’d kill someone for the kidney.” Turning my head, my eyes lock with his. I don’t know where the bravery comes from as I whisper, “There’s only one murderer in this room, and it’s not me.”

His lips curve up in a dangerous-looking smile, and a burst of laughter escapes him.

Letting go of my arm, he lifts his hand to my face, and when he aims to touch my jaw, I jerk my head away.

His eyebrow lifts. “Suddenly, you’re brave, my little mouse.”

Lightening flashes right outside the windows and lights up the room for a split second. I see the cold and unforgiving look in Renzo’s eyes and

remember what he’s capable of.

He killed Dr. Bentall without showing any emotion.

The heavens open up, and rain pours down in a thick curtain, the sound filling the room.

“Maybe you are innocent,” Renzo murmurs. For a moment, I wonder if I heard right, then he continues, “I thought about killing you and putting an end to this…situation.”

My heart squeezes in my chest, and my eyes flit back to his face. “But some of my friends are rooting for your survival.”

Dario?

He said friends, so there’s more than one. Right?

This time, when he lifts his hand to my face, I keep still. His fingers brush along my jaw and down the side of my neck, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

I hate that his touch affects me and ignore the fluttering sensation in my stomach.

“You don’t get as scared anymore,” he mentions. “Which means you’re getting used to living here, and soon it might not be torture anymore.”

I doubt that. This place will never be my home.

I continue to just stare at him, refusing to play into his mind games.

“I’ll have to think of a creative way to get my pound of flesh. Maybe Franco was right after all.”

I begin to frown because I don’t know what he’s referring to.

Suddenly, Renzo moves away, and a second later, he switches the light on. Standing near the door his eyes sweep over my body, then he smirks.

“Yeah, I’m starting to think Franco’s onto something.”

What?

Not explaining himself, he walks out of the room, leaving me feeling confused as hell.

Shaking my head, I replay the conversation we just had while walking to the closet and pulling on a sweater.

It’s the first time Renzo’s bothered to ask me how I feel.

It’s weird.

Who’s Franco, and what is he right about?

Walking to the doorway, my teeth tug at my bottom lip. There’s no reason for me to leave my bedroom. We’ve already had dinner.

Still, Renzo seems calm and willing to talk.

Maybe I can reason with him, and if not, I might be able to plant a seed of doubt by adding to what Dario said to him last week. It’s clear it bothers him, or he wouldn’t have asked me whether I think I’m innocent.

Leaving my room, I glance at the closed door at the end of the hallway before I head toward the staircase.

Halfway down the stairs, there’s a loud crack of thunder before the penthouse is plunged into darkness.

A peep escapes me as I jerk with fright. “Crap.”

I don’t hear anything but the rain and wait a moment for my eyes to adjust to the darkness.

The eerie sensation creeps down my spine, and I glance over my shoulder. Seeing Renzo’s silhouette, I say, “I’m here. Just in case you don’t see me.”

His tone is a low whisper that sends shivers racing over my body. “I see you just fine, topolina.”

My muscles instinctively tense as if they recognize the predatory tone before my brain does.

When Renzo prowls toward me, I take another step down and almost lose my footing from not being able to see shit. His arm wraps around my side, and I’m kept in place as he moves in front of me.

Renzo’s right. I’m becoming used to my new circumstances because my heart doesn’t race like crazy with fear anymore. Even though my breathing speeds up, there’s no threat of me hyperventilating.

Instead, I’m overly aware of his powerful presence as the scent of his woodsy cologne fills the air I breathe.

I’m beginning to think the man has excellent night vision because he grips my jaw and tips my head back without any effort on his part. There’s a glint of light in his eyes that makes him look even more predatory.

He presses closer to me, and with his face an inch from mine, he says, “The last thing we need is you breaking your neck on the stairs.”

In the moment that follows his words, a weird tension fills the air around us. It sizzles with electricity as if a lightning bolt is about to strike.

His head begins to lower, and I suck in a shocked breath before holding

it.

What’s he planning to do? Surely…no, he wouldn’t.

Would he?

The warm air of his breath fans over my lips, making them tingle. My stomach does a somersault, and my brain struggles to think of how I should react.

The air around us tenses even more. His arm holding me to him tightens. His body presses closer to mine.

Holy shit.

Suddenly, the lights come on, and seeing how close Renzo’s face is to mine has my heart instantly beating like a wild horse trying to get out of a burning barn.

Before another second can pass, Renzo lets go of me and takes the stairs down before walking to the living room.

Stunned out of my ever-loving mind, I remain standing in the middle of the staircase.

I place a hand over my fluttering stomach and suck in deep breaths of

air.

Did that just happen?

Was he about to try and kiss me? But why?

I should be terrified if that’s really the case.

Turning my head, I stare at Renzo as he pours himself a tumbler of

whiskey.

Maybe…NôvelDrama.Org content rights.

Just maybe…

Did Dario get through to him, and he’s softening toward me?

My heart starts to race for a whole different reason.

If I can make Renzo care about me, he might spare Dad’s life. Maybe he’ll give me my freedom.

With my chest rising and falling and the idea taking root, I watch as the hot-as-hell mafia boss takes a sip of the whiskey while staring out at the city lights beyond the window.