The Vengeful Mafia Kings’ Property

The Vengeful Mafia Kings’ Property

Ahsia Risan · Completed · 172.3k Words

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Introduction

Adriana made a mistake by trading love for security leaving Rafael behind to marry a man who could give her everything he couldn’t. But five years later, that dream shattered when her husband divorced her leaving her with nothing but a sick daughter and a desperation she never imagined. Stripping was supposed to be a one-time thing. Just enough to survive. But Rafael was watching and decided it was time to step in. He was the highschool sweetheart she abandoned who is now the most dangerous man in the city and when he sees her on that stage, he doesn’t hesitate to step in. She belonged to him before and she will belong to him now. Trapped in his world of power and revenge, Adriana knows she can’t escape. But there’s one secret Rafael doesn’t know… he has a daughter. And if he finds out, she might lose everything she’s been fighting for.

Chapter 1

Adriana’s POV

The neon sign outside the club flickered casting a dull red glow on the wet pavement. I stood beneath it, breathing in the thick and smoky air with my arms wrapped around myself as if that would somehow make this easier. But nothing about tonight was easy which is something I have been thinking about for weeks.

The bass from the music inside thumped through the walls with that kind of deep pulse that settled in your bones. Or maybe it’s because of what I’m about to do. It is also the kind that made men loosen their ties and women forget they had limits. I know cause I’ve seen it. The kind of music that turned this place into an escape or some sort fantasy for some.

Except for me, this wasn’t a fantasy and it has never been for the past six months. It is a place I have to come to so I’ll be able to keep food on the table. This was my last option because there are no other options in the first place.

I adjusted my thin jacket, barely feeling the cold anymore. I cannot feel so many things and it all started years ago, it keeps growing till I’m feelingless right now. If that’s a word. My mind was too busy replaying the conversation I had earlier today, the one with Isabella’s doctor.

“Her condition is worsening Ms. Moretti. The surgery needs to happen soon.” He has explained with a practiced sympathetic smile he has practiced during the course of his job.

I had nodded while swallowing the lump in my throat. I had known this day was coming. The bills piling up, the medicine barely keeping her stable and the constant fear clawing at my chest every time she so much as coughed. But hearing it out loud made it real. And now, here I am.

Six months ago, I never would have considered this. I had already lost so much in the past months. Starting from my home, my security and the little dignity I had left. My ex-husband made sure of that. The moment Marco was done with me, he tossed me aside like garbage making sure I left with nothing but my daughter and a name people whispered with pity.

I had begged him to be reasonable and reminded him that I had given up everything for him, left everything and everyone for him. I have nothing to fall back to now. But Marco wasn’t the kind of man who believed in fairness.

He had found someone younger or maybe even underage because he is fucking depraved. Someone prettier. And I was a problem he needed to erase. Someone he could show off in all those stressing events he had forced me to go to, wearing heels and revealing clothes with heavy makeup that could paint a house.

At first, I thought I could make it work. The bartender job kept food on the table even if it barely covered the rent. I worked double shifts, smiled when I didn’t want to, laughed at jokes that made my skin crawl and accept unnecessary cringy touches because I have no other choice. Anything to survive.

But survival wasn’t enough anymore. Not when my baby girl was lying in a hospital bed with dark curls spread across the pillow, her big, gray eyes watching me with silent trust. Trust I’m not sure should be given to me. Eyes that weren’t mine and they weren’t my ex husband’s.

I clenched my fists, pushing the thought away before it could take root. I stepped inside the club, the scent of alcohol and sweat wrapping around me instantly. The place was alive and buzzing with energy. Laughter and low conversation and the occasional whistle as one of the dancers strutted onto the stage.

Men sat around the tables leaning back with predatory eyes as they watched the women move for them. A few of them looked up when I walked past, their gazes lingering but I ignored them. I knew exactly what they saw. A woman who had lost too much and was about to lose the last piece of herself.

I forced my feet to move, weaving through the crowd until I reached the back hallway. Vince’s office was at the end tucked away from the noise so he can do all shady businesses. I’m not even sure about the legality of this club or even who the owner is but i don’t care. I earn from it, what happens behind doors isn’t my concern.

I didn’t bother to knock. I just pushed the door open and stepped inside. The thick scent of cigars and whiskey filled my lungs. Vince sat behind his desk, his usual smug expression in place. He barely glanced up from his papers, tapping his fingers lazily against the wood.

"What do you want, Ginger?" He asked in that stupid voice that always makes my shoulders tense and it did the same now. I hate when he noticee me.

I hated that name so much. I hated the way he said it. Like I was nothing more than a color to him. A body that could be used for various other things that I’m about to offer him right now. I blinked away the tears and hesitation and licked my lips. It’s not or never.

“I want to dance tonight." i straightened my shoulders, meeting his gaze head-on. That got his attention immediately.

He leaned back with his mouth twitching into a smirk as his eyes dragged over me in slow and assessing way. Like he was mentally undressing me already. Not that he hasn’t done that many times and has offered me the position of a stripper first before bartender after I begged him.

“You want to dance,.” he repeated in a slow way and his voice dripping with amusement. It wasn’t even a question at all. It was to taunt me.

“Just for one night.” I gave a jerky note because I feel like I should take back what I said but it’s now or never.

“You’ve been behind that bar for six months. You never even let a guy buy you a drink and now you suddenly want to dance?” Vince exhaled a long breath while rolling his cigar between his fingers before finally setting it down.

“I need the money.” I swallowed back the revulsion creeping up my throat.

“Of course you do. They always need more money as time goes by.” His smirk widened like he has already understood my entire situation.

He didn’t even ask me why as a concerned employer. He didn’t care. I hated him for it but at the same time, maybe it was better this way. The last thing I needed was sympathy. Because he’d make things worse for me.

“You’ve got the kind of body that makes men lose their minds. Always thought you were wasted behind the bar.” He tapped his fingers against his desk pretending to consider it even though we both knew his answer.

My stomach twisted but I kept my expression blank. I had learned how to do that a long time ago. Being with Marco has drained and squeezed every single emotion out of me. I don’t feel nothing anymore. Except love for my daughter and nothing else.

“So is that a yes?” I asked, my fingers tightening around one another till my entire hands turned pale.

“If it works, you stay on the floor. No one-night bullshit here, Ginger. Once you start, you don’t stop.” He said with a wolfish grin staring at my bosom then down my waist with that ugly teeth of his.

I hesitated, my fingers tightening around the fabric of my jacket. I wanted to argue to say i just needed one good night. But deep down, I knew the truth. If I do that he would give me more rules and I cannot stomach anything worse than doing this.

One night wouldn’t be enough. Not for Isabella. Not for the bills piling up. Not for the future I was desperately trying to keep from slipping through my fingers. I never expected to find myself in this situation. Nothing would have readied me for it either. Guess it’s karma.

“Fine.” I took a slow breath closing my eyes to let the decision settle in my bones. Last thread of dignity that I have left.

“Smart girl.” He said with a smirk. I turned to leave but his voice stopped me at the door.

“Oh and Ginger?” He called smugly but I didn’t turn around I just waited.

“Make sure you give them a good show or that money you want won’t come.”

I walked out before the nausea burning my throat turned into words I couldn’t take back. The music pulsed louder as I made my way toward the dressing rooms. The girls barely glanced at me, too busy adjusting their outfits, fixing their makeup, practicing moves in front of the mirrors.

I never expected I would find myself in this situation while I had stared from afar at the bar. I stood there for a long moment with my heart hammering against my ribs. This was it. I had made my choice by myself and there was no turning back now.

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