Page 23 of Kidnapped By the Mafia

My blood runs cold. I can’t believe he would go after Mia, drag her into this nightmare just to get to me. “You wouldn’t,” I whisper, the words slipping out before I can stop them.

Lucas doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t deny it or try to justify his actions. He simply shrugs, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “So, what’s it going to be, Emily? Are you going to do as you’re told, or are you going to make this difficult?”

My heart is pounding, my mind a whirlwind of fear and anger and confusion. I want to scream, to fight, to find some way out of this, but the reality is crashing down on me with brutal force. I’m trapped, and Lucas holds all the power. I have no choice.

But that doesn’t mean I’ll make it easy for him. “You’re a monster,” I say, my voice trembling with the effort to hold back tears.

“A monster who needs an heir for his empire. Marry me, give me a child, or I hurt those you love.”

“You bastard.”

“Not an answer. How important is Mia? Want to attend her funeral?”

“I’ll do whatever it takes to protect the people I care about. If that means marrying you, then fine. But don’t think for a second that I’ll ever forgive you for this.”

Lucas’s expression softens, just a fraction, and he reaches out to gently brush a strand of hair behind my ear. “You’ll come around, Emily. You’ll see that this is the only way. And in time, you might even thank me.”

I shudder at his touch, my skin crawling with the conflicting emotions tearing me apart inside.

Part of me wants to believe him, to think that maybe, somehow, this twisted reality could turn into something less horrifying. But the other part of me—the part that remembers who Lucas really is—knows better.

He steps back, letting the weight of his words settle between us. “We’ll do this my way,” he says, his voice calm and controlled. “And I promise, as long as you cooperate, no harm will come to your friend. But if you try to run again, or if you refuse me… well, you already know what I’m capable of.”

I swallow the lump in my throat, my voice barely audible as I reply. “Fine. I’ll marry you. Just don’t hurt her.”

A satisfied smile spreads across Lucas’s face, and he nods. “Good. Now, let’s not waste any more time.”

The room feels even smaller now, the walls closing in as Lucas takes control of the situation. I feel like I’m suffocating under the weight of his demands, but there’s no way out.

My heart races as I watch him move closer, his eyes never leaving mine. There’s a mix of fear and anger churning inside me, but underneath it all, there’s something else—something I hate to admit, even to myself.

Despite everything, I’m still drawn to him.

He reaches out, his fingers brushing against my cheek, and I flinch at the touch, but I don’t pull away. His touch is warm, gentle even, but it only serves to remind me of the power he holds over me.

“You can pretend to hate me all you want, Emily,” he says softly, his voice laced with a dangerous kind of affection. “But we both know the truth. You want this. You want me. You felt that thunderbolt when we first met, didn’t you?”

“I didn’t,” I whisper, but the words lack conviction. I can hear the uncertainty in my voice.

Lucas’s lips curve into a knowing smile. “You can lie to yourself, but you can’t lie to me.” He steps even closer, his body pressing lightly against mine, and I can feel the heat radiating off him. “You’re mine, Emily. You’ve always been mine. And deep down, you know it. I tried to ignore it too but fate is running things. You got pregnant. I need an heir. You’re the best sex I’ve had in my life. I can’t let you go.”

I want to argue, to push him away, but my body betrays me. The proximity, the way his voice wraps around me like a dark, seductive promise—it’s all too much. I can feel my resolve crumbling, piece by piece, under the intensity of his gaze.

“Admit it,” Lucas murmurs, his lips brushing against my ear, sending a shiver down my spine. “Admit that you want me.”

I close my eyes, trying to block out the sensation, the heat pooling in my stomach. But it’s no use. I can’t deny the pull between us, no matter how hard I try. “No,” I whisper, but even I can hear how weak it sounds.

Lucas’s hand trails down my arm, his touch sending sparks of electricity through my skin. “You don’t have to be afraid,” he says, his voice low and comforting, as if he’s coaxing me into something I desperately want. “Just let go, Emily. Let go and admit what you’re feeling.”

His other hand slides around my waist, pulling me closer, and before I can stop myself, I’m leaning into him. It’s as if my body has a mind of its own, responding to him despite the warnings screaming in my head. I hate that he has this effect on me, that he can make me feel so weak, so powerless.

He tilts my chin up, forcing me to meet his gaze, and the intensity in his eyes takes my breath away. “Say it,” he demands, his voice a husky whisper. “Tell me you want me.”

The words are on the tip of my tongue, but I can’t bring myself to say them. I can’t give him that satisfaction. But Lucas doesn’t need words to know he’s won. He can see it in my eyes, feel it in the way I tremble against him.

He kisses me then, a slow, deliberate kiss that’s more of a claim than a gesture of affection. It’s possessive, demanding, and it sends a rush of conflicting emotions through me—fear, anger, and, God help me, desire. My hands clutch at his shirt, half of me wanting to push him away, the other half desperate to pull him closer.

When he finally pulls back, I’m breathless, my heart pounding. “You feel it too,” he says, his voice smug with victory as he presses his hand to my chest. “You can’t deny it. I feel that heartbeat.”

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