Page 25 of Kidnapped By the Mafia

I’m sitting in the office, in his chair, my body still trembling from the orgasm he gave me, and the full weight of what just happened slams into me like a freight train.

I’ve just submitted to him, given him exactly what he wanted, and I hate myself for it. But as I look up at Lucas, standing over me with a satisfied smirk on his face, I know this is only the beginning.

He reaches down, lifting me from the chair with surprising gentleness, and begins to dress me again, as if I’m some delicate possession he needs to care for. I’m too shaken, too emotionally drained to fight him. I just let him do it, feeling more like a puppet than a person.

Once I’m dressed, he takes my hand, his grip firm but not painful, and leads me out of the office. I follow him in a daze, my mind still reeling from everything that’s just happened.

I don’t know where we’re going, and right now, I don’t have the strength to ask. All I know is that I think I just lost a battle I needed to win.

His hand is firm on my arm as he leads me down the hall, the plush carpet muffling our footsteps. I feel like I’m walking through a dream—or maybe a nightmare.

My mind is still reeling from what just happened in his office, and now I’m being guided somewhere else, somewhere I know can’t be good.

17

EMILY

He stops in front of a heavy, wooden door and pushes it open. The room inside is dimly lit, the warm glow from the overhead chandelier casting long shadows across the walls. The air is thick with the scent of leather and polished wood.

As I step inside, my breath catches in my throat. There are people waiting for us—three men, all dressed in sharp, tailored suits, standing near a small table draped in white cloth. The table is set with a few official-looking documents, a pen, and a simple box that I can’t quite make out from where I’m standing.

My heart sinks as the realization of what’s about to happen hits me. This isn’t just another room. This is where it’s going to happen. The wedding. My forced wedding.

The man standing closest to the table steps forward. He’s tall, with graying hair slicked back and sharp, hawk-like features that give him a predatory look.

His suit is immaculate, but there’s something in his eyes that sends a shiver down my spine. This isn’t just any officiant—this is a man who’s seen and done things most people couldn’t imagine.

He’s a part of Lucas’s world, the dark underbelly of power and control that I’ve only glimpsed until now.

“Emily Davis,” the man says, his voice smooth and calculated, as if he’s reciting a well-practiced script. “My name is Albert Moretti. I’ll be officiating your marriage to Mr. Caprione today.”

Marriage. The word feels heavy, almost surreal. I’ve dreamed of getting married one day, but never like this. Never in a room filled with shadows and strangers, to a man who’s coerced me into it. I feel a lump form in my throat, but I swallow it down, trying to keep myself together.

Before I can react, I hear a familiar voice behind me. “Emily?”

I turn quickly and see Mia standing in the corner of the room, her eyes wide with fear and confusion. She looks pale, almost as if she’s been kept here against her will.

She rushes over to me, grabbing my hands and searching my face for answers. “Why are you doing this? What’s going on? Why did they bring us here?”

My heart breaks at the sight of her, so scared and helpless. I want to tell her everything, to explain why I have no choice, but I can’t bring myself to say the words. I just shake my head, trying to keep the tears at bay. “I have to do this,” I whisper, my voice trembling. “But don’t ask me why. Please, Mia, just… trust me.”

Mia’s grip tightens on my hands, her eyes filling with tears. “Emily, you don’t have to do this. We can leave. This is insane. Let’s go.”

“I can’t,” I say, the words heavy with resignation. “It’s too late.”

The air in the room is suffocating, thick with tension and an undercurrent of something darker—an inevitability I can’t escape. I feel Mia’s hand tighten around mine, her grip the only thing keeping me from spiraling. Her eyes are wide and desperate, silently pleading with me to do something, to fight back.

Before I can think of a way out, before I can even open my mouth to speak, Lucas steps forward, his presence suddenly filling the room like a dark cloud blocking out the sun.

“It’s time,” he says, his voice a low, commanding rumble that leaves no room for argument. He doesn’t bother to look at Mia; his eyes are locked on me, hard and unyielding.

With a swift, almost casual motion, he reaches out and pulls me away from her, his hand firm on my arm as he guides me forward, positioning me directly in front of Albert.

I stumble slightly, my heels catching on the ornate rug beneath us, but Lucas’s grip is like iron, keeping me upright. My heart is pounding in my chest, a wild, erratic rhythm that drowns out everything else.

I steal a glance at Mia, and the look in her eyes breaks something inside me.

She’s scared, more scared than I’ve ever seen her, but she’s still hoping—still thinking there’s a chance for me to resist. But I know better. I know there’s no way out of this. Not now.

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