? THE
GODFATHER ?
( Bounded By Honour. . . )
By; Holland Cisca.
WARNING‼️ THIS IS NOT YOUR TYPICAL MAFIA ROMANCE BOOK. BEWARE OF MATURE CONTENTS.
PROLOGUE:
★ ★ ★ ★
“Ana. . .” he whispered, his smile dropping as he closed the distance between us. “I’m sor. . .”
My right hand met his cheek brutally, stopping all that he had to say. “How dare you?!” I hissed, landing another smack on the same spot. ” How could you do this to me? ” I raised my hand up again to place another one, but he caught my wrist before I could do so.
“Plan your next move very carefully,” he spoke in a low tone, tightening his grip on my wrist, daring me to slap him again. Pain jolted from the area, forcing tears to sting at the corner of my eyes.
“Or what?” I scowled at him.
” You don’t want to find out.” He took a step closer, staring into my eyes. ” And don’t tempt me. ”
*
Anastasia Romanoff is a wise, strong willed girl with a good heart, but an unexpected circumstances leads her to people who tears her apart. What happens when she finds herself in the tent of Vito Escobar, a ruthless mafia leader and also her father’s debtor?
However, things didn’t turn out the way she expected. She is segzually tortured by the eldest sons of her master. But what happens when Pablo, the youngest of Vito’s son returns from the military, who is not only intrigued but also smitten by her?
However, they begin to change each other, molding into something else. She does things she never dreamt of doing, and the rising tension between the two of them ki||s her inside.
But will she give into the segzy temptation walking around with an irresistible smirk that mushes her into a puddle? With the eldest sons after her body, will she be able to find refuge in the one she loves? Or will she remain as a slave to the Mafia household?
~~~~
Curious to know?
Find out!
? THE
GODFATHER ?
( Bounded By Honour. . . )
CHAPTER 1&2: STRIP HER.
By; Holland Cisca
‼️ DO NOT COPY AND REPOST‼️
★ ★ ★ ★
The Godfather. . .
That’s what they call them.
I’ve heard a lot about the Sacilian Mafia mobsters, my dad always tell me about them like every night when I was a child.
He said they were the famous and most dangerous group of gangsters among the five families. They are even in charge of the clothes and foodstuffs which enters into store.
But being the little kid I was then, I always believed they were folktales created by one’s imagination. I keep wondering how possible it was for a human to slaughter his fellow human all for the sake of money and fame?
But then I came to realize that none of those were folktale stories as I thought, they were real. And it became my reality on the very day I lost my parents to one of the most famous mobsters in the United State.
One minute I was with them, and the next they are gone, covered in their own blood. I couldn’t do anything, I couldn’t fight for them. The strength to scream was likewise gone, all I did was to stand and watch them stabbed to death.
I’ve never thought I’d for once in my life experience misery. No, I never prayed for such to happen. I always pray to God I will never see hell. Now I know not all prayers are answered. I can feel hell here on earth, right in the Escobar family.
****
My eyes blinked continously as I try to get a glimpse of my environment. The room is so dark and I could barely tell what the hell this place is. But thanks to the sun rays which sneaked in from the small window just below the ceiling.
The strange smell of dried blood from the room ached my stromach, causing me to feel like vomiting. My brain couldn’t interpret what and where I am. I don’t remember walking in here, what the f-__-k is this place?
I looked at the only wooden chair in the room. There were leather belts at both hands and legs of the chair. I remember when my father once told me about such chairs, he said they were used to torture offenders of the law.
But why is it in the same room as I am? I didn’t commit a crime, did I? I have never steal or murdered, what’s going on here?
All these thoughts in my head and not even a single answer could be found. I heard the sound of approaching footsteps, thankfully, I might get my answers.
Then a jingling sound of keys as they unlock the door from the outside. The door open, and two young men walked in, dressed on a casual black attire. I glared at them from head to toe, and I observed similar features in them and a little resemblance on their faces.
They were so handsome to behold coupled with the way they styled their hair in the best stylish way I have ever seen, but the mean look on their faces made them appear like the most scary males on earth, giving me answers to my questions.
Indeed, I am a law breaker.
“ Excuse me, why am I here?” I asked, but all I could get in response was silence.
They were blinking and I’m pretty sure they are breathing too. But their quietness almost looked like they are under control or somehow they are just practicing the silent mood on me.
“ Did I do something wrong?” I asked again and yes, they didn’t want to give me a d@mn answer.
An elderly man in his mid-fifties, dressed on a black suit and a red tie walked in with a golden cane in one hand and a cigar at the other hand. He puffed out a large amount of smoke which almost covered his face.
I was wondering why a man at such age would be smoking. “Hello, Ms. Anastasia Romanoff.” He said, interrupting my thoughts.
I glared fixely at him. Did he just call my name? Have we met before? Where?
“You know my name?” I asked, surprised.
“I know everyone’s name, Ms. Romanoff.” he said with a smile.
“Who are you?” I asked. “Why am I here?”
“Don’t tell me you don’t remember a $h|t about why you are here.” He said.
“What $h|t are you talking about?” I snapped.
He walks close to me, squatting before me. He puffs out another smoke on my face. I coughed, waving it off with my hand.
“ Your father made a bargain with me some months ago and promised to pay it up this month. Rather than paying his debts, he went ahead sending some local boys after me. You know, I would have let him be for this month but attempting to ki|| me over his debt wasn’t something I could overlook.”
“ So what do I have to do with it?”
“ Well, according to our rules, there are consequences of every evil act we do. He did something evil, so I offered him what he deserved.”
“ W–what are you talking about? What did you do to my father?” I yelled.
“ I did what I had to do.” he simply said without emotions.
“You ki||ed him?!” I yelled, holding him tight by the collar. “ You fu*cking ki||ed my father, huh?!”
The young men came to stop me but he rose his hand, signaling them to stay back. “ And even after ki||ing him, you still had the mind to take me in?”
“ He made the decision and not me. Even if I had to take you, it’s still not enough to complete the deal. ki||ing him would.”
“ You are a murderer! A ki||er!” I yelled in clenched teeth. “What about my mother? What did you do to her?!”
“ Oh, that gentle soul. Poor thing she accepted to die alongside with your father. I had no choice but to grant it to her.” I let go of his shirt, letting the hot tears roll out of my eyes.
He drops the cigar in his mouth, holding it in between his teeth. “I’m so sorry, Ms. Romanoff, but a deal is a deal.” With this few words, he left the room.
One of the men followed after, while the other stood still. I can feel his gaze on me, not those which told how pitiful he felt for me, but that which held hatred. Soon, he left.