Katarina POV - The Morning After

"Shit" The morning after the club, I woke up with my cheek glued to a textbook.

9:15 AM.

I'd overslept by two hours. Madame was going to murder me.

I shot up from my desk, my neck screaming in protest. The nursing exam notes were still scattered across my bedroom floor—I'd studied until 4 AM, trying to scrub the memory of green eyes and rough hands from my mind.

It hadn't worked.

I could still taste him. Still feel the ghost of his thumb on my nipple.

Stop it, Kat. Focus.

I grabbed my jacket and keys, shoving my feet into worn sneakers. My phone buzzed—three missed calls from Selena and one angry text:

Sel: WHERE ARE YOU?? Madame is asking questions!!

I texted back while rushing to the door:

Me: On my way. Cover for me. Please.

The apartment was silent. Too silent.

"Mom?" I called out, knowing I wouldn't get an answer.

I found her on the couch, passed out. An empty vodka bottle lay on its side on the coffee table. Next to it, a syringe.

My stomach turned.

"Mom." I shook her shoulder gently. Nothing. Her chest rose and fell—at least she was breathing.

This was the third time this week.

I grabbed a blanket from the hallway closet and draped it over her. There was nothing else I could do. I'd tried everything—begging, threatening, crying. She always promised to stop. She never did.

I locked the door behind me and ran down the stairs.

Outside, the cold October air slapped me awake. The bus stop was two blocks away, but when I got there, the bus was already pulling away from the curb.

"Damn it!"

I flagged down a cab instead, sliding into the backseat.

"Fifth and Maple," I told the driver. "The bookstore."

He grunted and pulled into traffic.

I counted the crumpled bills in my pocket. Twelve dollars. The fare would be at least fifteen.

Great. Just great.

I leaned my head against the window, watching the city blur past. Naples in the morning—gray buildings, cracked sidewalks, people rushing to jobs they hated. This place swallowed dreams whole.

But not mine. Not if I passed those nursing exams. Selena and I had been studying for months. If we both got into the university program, we could leave this city behind. Start fresh somewhere new.

Somewhere far away from drug-addicted mothers and mafia bosses with green eyes.

The cab pulled up in front of the bookstore.

"Fifteen-fifty," the driver said.

I handed him the twelve dollars. "I'm sorry. This is all I have right now. I can bring you the rest tomorrow—"

"Get out." His voice was flat, annoyed.

"Please, I work right here. I can—"

"I said get out."

My face burned with shame as I climbed out. He sped off before I could even close the door properly, shouting something in Italian that I was glad I didn't understand.

I stood on the sidewalk, humiliation sitting heavy in my chest and started walking .

Just get inside. Apologize to Madame. Get through the day.

That's when I noticed the car a black sedan following me

It hadn't been there when the cab dropped me off.

I turned and hurried toward the bookstore entrance.

But the car kept pace with me, crawling along the curb.

Then the passenger window rolled down.

A man leaned out…neck covered in tattoos, silver piercings glinting in the morning light.

"Katarina Delgado?"

I stopped walking, my blood freezing.

He knew my name. My full name. "Who are you?" I managed, my voice barely steady.

The man in the backseat leaned forward, grinning wide. Gold teeth. Scars crisscrossing his knuckles.

"Damn," he whistled low, looking me up and down like I was meat at a market. "Boss is gonna love you. Look at that body."

Panic exploded in my chest.

"I don't know what you want, but you've got the wrong person—"

"Oh, we've got the right person, sweetheart." The tattooed man's smile widened. "Don't worry. You'll understand everything real soon."

The driver revved the engine. "See you soon, Katarina."

The car peeled off, tires screeching, leaving me standing alone on the empty street

They were looking for me specifically.

But why? How?

My mind raced back to last night—the club, the kiss, the Don watching me leave with that satisfied smile.

Was this him? Had he sent them?

No. That didn't make sense. These men were different—rougher, cruder. Not the polished criminals from the club.

So who were they?

I forced my legs to move running towards the bookstore.

By the time I burst through the door, I was shaking, gasping for air.

Selena looked up from behind the counter, eyes widening in alarm. "Kat! What.."

She quickly shoved a pair of rubber gloves into my hands. "Here. Put these on and look busy. Madame's in the back."

I fumbled the gloves on with trembling fingers, grabbing the nearest book and pretending to organize the shelf.

But I couldn't stop shaking.

"Kat." Selena leaned closer, voice low. "What happened? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"There was a car," I whispered. "Following me. The men inside... they knew my name, Selena. My full name."

Her face went pale. "What?"

"I don't know who they are or what they want, but"

"Katarina!"

Madame's sharp voice cut through the store like a whip. She emerged from the back office, eyes narrowed with suspicion.

"Where have you been?"

"Restroom," I lied quickly, keeping my voice steady despite my pounding heart. "Sorry, Madame."

Selena jumped in without missing a beat. "Yeah, she's been helping me sort inventory. We've been working all morning."

Madame studied me for a long moment, clearly skeptical. Then she huffed and retreated back to her office.

The second she was gone, Selena gripped my arm. "Kat, this isn't normal. Men following you, knowing your name? You need to call the police."

"And tell them what? That a car followed me for one block? They'll think I'm crazy."

"Then at least stay with me tonight. Don't go home alone."

I nodded, grateful. "Okay. Yeah. Thanks, Sel."

I tried to focus on work, but my eyes kept drifting to the front window.

And that's when I saw it.

A different car…Parked directly across the street. This one was Red

It was personal unlike the thugs…..The owner was watching me …I blinked again and then it was gone…whoever it was drove off

Giordano's POV- Earlier That Morning

I sat behind my desk, the red glow of Naples' city lights filtering through the blinds. My cigarette burned slow..

Two of my girls were counting money at the corner table—crumpled bills from last night's work at the strip club. Tips from men who'd spent the evening with their hands on my property.

The girls knew better than to speak unless spoken to. They counted in silence.

Three days ago, a man stumbled into my office.

Ricardo Delgado. Reeking of cheap whiskey and failure.

He'd collapsed into the chair across from my desk, hands shaking, eyes bloodshot.

"I got something for you," he'd slurred. "Something valuable."

I'd almost shot him right there. I don't do business with drunks.

But then he pulled out a photo.

Crumpled. Stained. But the image was clear enough.

A girl. Young. Curves that could stop traffic. Innocent face with wide, doe-like eyes.

"My daughter," he said, tapping the photo with a dirty fingernail. "Nineteen. Virgin. Beautiful. She's worth more than anything I owe you."

I leaned back in my chair, studying the photo. "You're offering me your daughter?"

"I'm offering you an investment," he corrected, like he was some kind of businessman. "Pure. Untouched. You know what virgins go for. You could make a fortune."

He wasn't wrong.

But I wasn't planning to sell her.

I wanted her for myself.

"How much?" I asked.

His eyes lit up like I'd just thrown him a lifeline. "Fifty thousand."

I laughed—cold, harsh. "You're delusional."

"Forty! Forty and she's yours."

"Thirty. Final offer."

"Deal!" He practically shouted it.

Idiot. He would've taken ten.

But I wanted him to have enough money to live with what he'd done. Enough to drink himself to death thinking about it.

I'd sent my men to confirm the girl existed. To make sure she matched the photo. To verify she was really untouched.

The door to my office opened now, and Scarface walked in with Mikey the Hammer close behind.

"Well?" I didn't look up from my cigarette.

Mikey dropped a new photo on my desk. "It's her. Katarina Delgado. Even better in person, boss."

I picked up the photo. Taken from a distance—the girl walking down the street, completely unaware she was being hunted.

Perfect.

"Confirmed virgin?" I asked.

Scarface nodded. "Our sources checked everything. No boyfriend. Works at a bookstore. Quiet girl. Lives with her drug-addict mother and older brother."

"Does she know?" I asked.

Scarface shook his head. "About her father selling her? No. We followed her this morning, let her see us. Wanted to gauge her reaction."

"And?"

"Terrified. Ran straight to work. She's got no idea what's coming."

I stubbed out my cigarette. "Bring her to me. Tonight."

Mikey raised an eyebrow. "Tonight? Boss, we could wait a few days, let the father prep her—"

"Tonight," I repeated, my voice dropping to ice. "I don't wait for what's already mine."

They nodded and turned to leave.

"One more thing," I called after them.

They stopped.

"Pay the father. All thirty thousand."

Scarface looked confused. "Boss, he'd take half that—"

I smiled slowly. "I want him to have that money. I want him to hold those bills in his hands and imagine what I'm doing to his daughter every single night."

Understanding dawned on Scarface's face. He grinned. "You're a twisted bastard, boss."

"That's why I run this city better than Vittorio."

I stared at Katarina's photo again, tracing her face with one finger.

Pretty. Innocent. Untouched.

Not for long.

In a few hours, she'd be in my bed.

And once I claimed something…I never let it go.

Ever.

Chapter 4: Two Sides Of Nerdy Liam

Katarina POV - Inside the Bookstore

"Kat, you've been staring at that same page for twenty minutes."

Selena's voice barely registered. I was lost somewhere else. The bookstore was quiet.

Madame had left hours ago, leaving just me and Selena to close up for the night.

I sat behind the counter with a book open in my lap—one of those dark, filthy romance novels we kept hidden in the back section. The kind with a half-naked man on the cover that would get us fired if Madame caught us reading them.

But I needed the distraction.

After this morning—the red car, those tattooed men who knew my name—I needed to forget. Even if just for a moment.

The book was still in my lap. The same filthy page with the same aching feeling between my legs.

"He slammed into her, stretching her wide as she moaned his name. Her hands clawed the desk, her body shaking as his cock drove deeper, deeper…"

I read the sentence again. And again.

Not because it was new. But because it made my body forget everything else.

My eyes burned down the page. My thighs clenched, pressing together under the counter stool. I shifted, my knee bumping the wooden shelf as I inhaled sharply.

God.

This one was filthier than the last. Exactly what I needed.

My panties were already damp, the soft cotton sticking to me with every twitch, teasing me. I shouldn't be reading this here. I really shouldn't.

But I couldn't stop.

Every line made my heart beat faster. Not because of the words. But because of who I kept imagining.

Him.

Not the fake fantasy man in the book.

The Don.

His cold green eyes. His full mouth. The way his hand gripped my tits like he owned them. The way he didn't ask before taking—he just knew.

I bit my lower lip, hard. My nipples ached against the inside of my bra. It was shameful, disgusting, the way my body reacted just thinking about him.

I'd never been touched like that. Never kissed like that..

I shifted again on the stool, the seam of my jeans pressing deliciously where I needed it most. I squeezed my thighs together tighter.

What would he feel like inside me? Would he be rough? Would he tie me down? Would he hold my wrists while he slammed into me over and over until I screamed his name?

A little moan slipped out before I could catch it. My palm slid down, slow and shaky, hovering just over the button of my jeans. One little touch. One little press. I could already feel how wet I was. For him.

I bit down on my fist, heartbeat hammering—

"Kat?"

My head jerked up.

Shit.

Liam stood in the doorway. He was one of our regular customers—came in every week for manga and graphic novels. Usually shy and awkward, always polite.

I scrambled to shut the book and shove it beneath the register, praying he hadn't noticed the way my cheeks were flushed or how I was practically squirming on the stool.

"Hey," I said hoping my voice didn't sound breathless. "You, uh, need something?"

He gave a little crooked smile.

His hair was messy as always, but his clothes were different. Neater. Like he'd changed who he was today.

"Hi, Katarina." He stepped forward, his hand twitching slightly before disappearing into his jacket pocket. "You... looked focused."

"You were really into that," he said softly, his voice lower than usual.

"I—just reading inventory stuff," I lied.

"I saw the cover. That wasn't inventory."

My heart fluttered with embarrassment, but something in his tone made it stutter with fear too. He stepped forward, slowly and stared not at my face but at my throat or maybe my shoulders.

"You smell different today," he said, voice was strangely low.

My stomach felt weird…why was messy Liam acting strange?.

"I—um—showered?" I offered, forcing a little laugh.

He tilted his head. "No. It's not soap." He stepped closer, and I instinctively gripped the counter between us. "It's... Arousal... And sweet."

"Liam, are you okay?"

He blinked. Then he smiled suddenly, like a light switch being flipped. "Yeah! Totally. I'm fine." His voice was pitched up now, lighter, nerdier. Like the Liam I knew.

But i felt something was wrong in my gut. The way his posture dropped an inch and his lips twitching every secound.

He placed a graphic novel on the counter. "They added volume six," he said in that easy tone again, "I thought of you when I saw it."

I scanned it slowly. "Thanks," I said. "That's sweet."

He leaned forward. "Do you want to hang out later? I could—cook."

Cook?

I swallowed. "I'm staying at Selena's tonight."

"Right. Right." He nodded too fast. "Sleepover. Girls. Secrets. Lying."

My breath caught. "What?"

His eye twitched again and his smile left his face. "You don't have to be scared of me," he said quietly. "But... we don't like when you think about other men."

I froze.

"What the hell is wrong with you, Liam?" I whispered. "Who's we..Did you do drugs or something?"

"Nothing…I’m sorry...Just kidding." back into that nerdy tone again.

He pulled a folded paper from his back pocket and set it down. "This is for you."

I stared at it.

"What is it?"

His voice had dropped calmer now. "You don't have to be scared of me."

I didn't say anything. I just watched him back away, turn, and walk out the door.

I waited three whole minutes before I reached for the paper.

It was folded perfectly with crisp edges, like someone had measured them. I opened it slowly.

In neat handwriting, it read:

"Don't let the other one see this. I'll keep you safe. But I can't hold him back forever." —L

I stared at it.

Other one? Who the hell was "other one"?

I turned the paper over. On the back, in completely different handwriting—messier, more aggressive:

"He's lying. I'm the one protecting you." —Also L

Two messages. Two different handwriting styles. Both signed L.

Something was very wrong with Liam.

I slid the note into my bra and glanced toward the front window. Liam was standing outside on the sidewalk hitting his haed with his hands.

A chill ran down my spine

The store was quiet again. I looked around and the light outside was fading. It was getting dark. Selena was already packing up, organizing her things to leave for the evening.

I checked the time—5:30 p.m.

I was supposed to text Mateo my older brother so he wouldn't worry. I hadn't even told him I was staying at Selena's tonight.

When I finally checked my phone, I saw multiple missed calls from him.

I started panicking immediately Mateo never called this much. Why didn't I notice earlier? Why didn't I pick up?

I dialed his number, but it went straight to voicemail.

This was strange. Mateo was always in touch, especially in a city like this where dangerous gangs operated in broad daylight.

I quickly sent him a text, then stared at my phone screen, waiting for a reply that never came. I could feel the unease building in my stomach.

I looked at Selena, who was already at the door, her bag flung over her shoulder.

"What's going on?" she asked, her voice low. She'd picked up on the change in my mood.

I shook my head. "I'm not sure. But it's weird. Mateo's not answering."

I stared down at my phone, waiting for a reply that never came.

Then I saw the last message he'd sent:

Mateo: If he shows up, don't let him in.

My blood went cold.

Chapter 5: Wet Dreams

Katarina POV - Still at the Bookstore

"We need to leave. Now."

Selena grabbed her bag, but I was frozen, staring at my phone. Mateo's last message glowed on the screen:

Mateo: If he shows up, don't let him in.

"Kat!" Selena shook my arm. "Did you hear me? We need to go."

"Who is he talking about?" I whispered. "If who shows up?"

"I don't know, but we're not staying here to find out." She pulled me toward the back room. "Come on. We'll lock up and go out the back door."

I glanced at the front window one more time. The red car was back again, parked across the street…

My stomach dropped.

"Selena... the car from this morning. It's back."

She looked, and her face went pale. "Shit. Okay, back door. Right now."

We rushed through the storage room. I grabbed my jacket and bag while Selena fumbled with the keys, locking the register and turning off lights.

"You're staying with me until we figure this out." She grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the back exit. "Come on."

At Selena's Apartment - That Night

Selena's apartment was small but warm. Safe. Her cat, Miso, immediately curled up on my lap when I sat on the couch.

But I couldn't relax.

Every creak, every car passing outside made my heart jump.

"Here." Selena handed me tea. "Chamomile. It'll help you sleep."

I took it but didn't drink. My eyes kept drifting to the window, to the street below.

Was the red car out there? Watching?

"Kat, talk to me." Selena sat beside me. "What's going on in your head? "

I shook my head. "I don't know. I’m Just confused …I wish i spoke with mateo"

"Have you tried calling Mateo again?"

I checked my phone. Still nothing.

I dialed. Voicemail.

Me: Mateo, please call me back. I'm scared. What's happening?

Delivered. Read.

No response.

"He's ignoring me," I whispered.

Selena squeezed my hand. "Maybe his phone died. Or maybe he's in trouble too."

That thought made it worse.

"Try to get some rest," she said gently. "I'll stay up and keep watch, okay?"

I nodded, but I knew I wouldn't sleep.

I moved to her guest bedroom, crawling under the covers fully clothed. My phone stayed clutched in my hand, waiting for Mateo to call back.

But he didn't.

Around midnight, I heard it.

Knock. Knock.

I froze, heart hammering.

Selena's footsteps in the hallway. Her voice, low and cautious. "Who is it?"

Silence.

Then another knock. Louder this time.

I crept to the bedroom door, pressing my ear against it.

"I said who is it?" Selena's voice was sharper now.

And then I heard it. A voice from the other side of the door—low, smooth, dangerous.

"Open the door, piccola. You ran last time. Now I want you to crawl."

My blood turned to ice.

That voice.

The Don.

He'd found me.

"Selena, don't open it!" I screamed, rushing into the hallway.

She stepped back from the door, eyes wide. "Who the hell is that?"

"The man from the club. The one who..." I couldn't finish the sentence.

The door handle rattled.

"I know you're in there, Katarina," his voice purred through the wood.Selena grabbed her phone. "I'm calling the police."

"Don't." My voice came out barely a whisper. "He's... he's mafia. The police won't help."

The rattling stopped.

For a moment, there was only silence.

Then his voice again, softer this time. Almost intimate.

"I'll be back for you, piccola. And next time, you won't have a door to hide behind."

Footsteps retreated down the hallway.

I collapsed against the wall, shaking.

Selena was already at the window, peeking through the curtains. "There's a car leaving. Red.The fancy one we saw outside the bookstore."

He'd found me.

And he'd be back.

That Night - The Dream

I didn't think I'd sleep. But exhaustion pulled me under like a riptide.

And then I was somewhere else.

A marble hallway. White floors. Endless mirrors reflecting my naked body from every angle. No exits. The air smelled like blood and roses.

My reflection stared back at me—flushed cheeks, bruised lips, thighs slick with arousal I couldn't explain.

I was trembling, but not from fear.

From want.

Then he stepped from the shadows.

The Don.

His shirt was half-open, revealing a chest carved from muscle and danger. His belt hung in his hand like a promise. Those emerald eyes pinned me in place, and I couldn't move. Couldn't breathe.

"I told you," he said, voice rough like broken stone. "Run, and I'll break you."

I didn't run.

He was on me in two strides, pressing me hard against the mirrored wall. One hand fisted in my hair, yanking my head back. The other wrapped around my throat—not enough to hurt, just enough to control.

"You liked kneeling for me, didn't you?"

I wanted to lie. Wanted to say no.

But my body betrayed me. My lips parted. My legs trembled.

"Yes," I whispered.

He smiled—cruel and gorgeous.

Then he shoved me down to my knees.

"Show me how much."

I opened my mouth without hesitation, tongue out like I was starved. His cock was already hard, heavy, flushed dark at the tip. I took him deep, swallowing around him, tears slipping from my eyes as he hit the back of my throat.

"That's it," he groaned, fingers tightening in my hair. "My filthy girl. My obedient little mouth."

I sucked harder, faster, desperate to please him. He dragged me up before I could finish, spinning me around and bending me over a glass table that hadn't been there seconds ago.

My reflection stared up at me—eyes wide, lips swollen, need dripping down my thighs.

"You're wet for me," he said, dragging two fingers through my folds. "Disgusting."

I whimpered.

He didn't give me time to breathe.

He thrust inside me in one brutal stroke—no warning, no mercy—and I shattered.

"This is mine now," he growled, pounding into me. "Your body. Your mouth. Your screams. All mine."

His hand clamped over my mouth as I came, crying against the glass, legs buckling beneath him.

"You love being used," he snarled. "Say it."

"I love it," I gasped. "I love it. I love you."

He didn't stop.

He fucked me harder, dragging orgasm after orgasm from my trembling body until I couldn't tell if I was begging for more or for mercy.

And then he kissed my shoulder.

"Next time, piccola... I'll leave marks they can't hide."

I came with a sob, body convulsing.

I jolted awake, drenched in sweat, my thighs sticky, my heart racing.

I clutched the blanket, burying my face in it as shame flooded me.

What is wrong with me?

I was wet. Aching. And I could still feel his breath on my skin.

I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream.

But I couldn't forget the way it felt.

I covered my mouth with both hands, terrified the moan still caught in my throat would escape and wake Selena.

The Next Morning - Back at My Apartment

"I just need to grab some clothes," I told Selena the next morning before leaving her house.

I didn't want her to see the mess that was my family.

The second I put my key in the lock of my apartment, I knew something was wrong.

The handle was loose. The lock, scratched and damaged like someone had forced it.

I pushed the door open slowly.

The lights were off, but I could smell it immediately—cheap cologne and stale whiskey.

And then I saw him.

On the couch.

My father.

Passed out, mouth hanging open, arms spread like he owned the place again.

No.

No, no, no.

He'd been gone for three years. Why was he back?

My stomach twisted. I clutched my phone, checking for messages from Mateo.

Still nothing.

Me: He's here. Why didn't you warn me?

I started backing toward the door, my eyes never leaving the man who'd made my childhood a nightmare.

And then his eyes opened.He'd been awake the whole time.

"Where the fuck you think you been, girl?"

My throat went dry. I couldn't move.

"I asked you a question," he slurred, rising slowly to his feet. "You think you can run off and come back whenever you like?"

His voice was lower now. That meant something bad was coming.

"I... I just needed clothes," I stammered. "I wasn't... I didn't mean"

He stepped toward me.

My back hit the door.

"You got no say in anything anymore," he said darkly. "Not after what I did for this family."

My voice shook. "What did you do?"

He smiled.

Reached into his jacket and pulled out a folded paper, tossing it onto the coffee table.

A contract. My name printed at the top. His signature at the bottom. A seal burned into the corner—some kind of symbol I didn't recognize.

"I sold you, Katarina," he said simply. "You're leaving. Tonight."

The room tilted.

"What?"

"You heard me." He lit a cigarette, exhaling smoke in my face. "Giordano's men are coming to pick you up at eight. Pack something nice. He likes his girls pretty."

I stood there, frozen, as my world collapsed around me.