Page 1 of Mafia King's Forbidden Vows

Prologue: Aria

The Day Of The Corporate Gala

Memories from last week in his car suddenly invade my mind— his strong arms wrapped around me, his leg-length erection pressed against my wet core, and his rich, masculine cologne doing things to my sanity.

His presence was intoxicating. It had taken every ounce of willpower to resist letting him fuck me into oblivion right there on his leather seats.

Regret gnawed at me every time he slipped into my thoughts, which, if I was honest, was far too often.

I try to focus on the present moment… this corporate gala. The large hall bubbles with the chatter and laughter of rich people.The glittering chandeliers above reflect harshly off the polished marble floors.

The music blares loudly through the speakers, and I suppress the groan rising in my throat. I tug at the hem of my black bodycon dress, a failed attempt to look composed as the nerves in me refuse to settle, and I feel even more out of place.

A chill prickles the back of my neck, raising the hairs on my skin. Even without looking, I can tell someone’s watching me.

Discreetly, I scan the crowd until my eyes land on… him—Elio Donatelli.He’s standing among a circle of the elite, tall and god-like, with a broad chest and ripped muscles that fill out his suit to perfection.

They’re talking to him, but his focus isn’t on them. Instead, his dark eyes travel down the curve of my dress, lingering, burning. Those same eyes that had watched me writhe, bare, as he ravaged my pussy, sucking and licking every inch of me with ruthless precision until I convulsed into his wicked, hungry mouth.

“Fuck. I could spend eternity in your wet pussy.”

Something in me liquefies as I recall his voice, and my thighs press together involuntarily as my grip on the champagne glass tightens. Every nerve in my body thrums while this man's eyes fuck me… just like he did one week ago.

“Can you feel how hard I am for you?”he had rasped against my ears.

The thought of his hardened dick against my naked thighs elicits another wicked shiver down my spine. Damn! My social media says the brain replays core memories up to seven minutes after death, but I’m sure mine would give every second to the sheer length of his 2XL special member rubbing against my trembling thighs.

He finally returns his eyes to mine, and I see a slight smirk on his lips before it disappears. He remembers! He remembers how those lips had wrapped around my nipple, his warm tongue licking my sensitive skin. How he’d grabbed me roughly…something I didn’t know I would like, eyes staring into my soul as he romanced his fingers against my aching core.

I resist the urge to let out a throaty moan and instead subtly clear my throat.

What am I doing?

I shouldn’t even be here. There’s someplace more important I should be right now. But here I am, practically blackmailed to stand in for my superior, who couldn’t make it to this corporate gala, leaving me to navigate this situation alone.

Lost in my thoughts, I notice that, thankfully, a stout man in a black suit grabs Elio’s attention and pulls him out of the hall.

I let out a deep sigh. Adjusting the strap of my black dress, I grip the stem of my champagne glass against my sweaty palm.How am I even sweaty in this well-conditioned space?

Just then, my phone vibrates in my hand, and I glance down. Tapping on the message that came in suddenly digs a pit in my stomach: “Your father had a terrible accident. It’s urgent.”

My heart races and drops into my guts.

I clench my fists until my nails are digging into my palms. Looking around, I decide that I’ve socialized enough for the evening and, without hesitation, I drop my glass on a passing waitress’s tray and sneak out of the hall. I step into a hallway and start walking.

“I can’t even remember where I came in through,” I say aloud, but I’m alone.

I’m contemplating going back the way I came and seeking directions when I hear voices a bit further down the hallway. For some reason, one of them sounds unmistakably familiar.

I take quick steps towards the voices, deciding to kill two birds with one stone: See who it is and seek directions, if possible.

“…the plan’s set. We need to take care of him before he’s a problem.”

My feet come to an abrupt pause when I hear the deep, familiar voice. I’m at the end of the hallway now, which bursts intoanother by the right. My cheek grazes the cold wall as I take the first peep, and I freeze yet again.

“You think it’s the right time? It might attract attention.” The man in the black suit, who had pulled Elio aside, speaks up. I instinctively peg him as Elio’s secretary, though my focus keeps drifting back to the striking cut of Elio’s dark green suit.

“Don’t worry,” Elio answers, his voice calm but firm. “It has to be done. He won’t see it coming.”

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