Promised to the Mobster 1: An Italian Mafia Romance

by Talbot, Jessi

  About This Story

  Her father owes a debt. She has to pay the price.

  Sofia’s life is turned upside-down when she learns she has to marry an Italian mobster because of an old promise made when she was just a child. She’s not happy about it but she knows breaking a promise to the don will put her family in danger.

  Tall, sexy, smooth-talking Alessio Drago isn’t what Sofia expected, and all of a sudden, it seems as if doing the honorable thing might also be the pleasurable thing.

  But Alessio is a man filled with dark desires. He intends to have his new lover submit to him completely and he has no problem with introducing her backside to his hand to show her who the boss is.

  Reader Advisory: This is the first 7k installment of a bdsm romance serial about the Italian Mafia. It contains explicit scenes of dominance, submission, and spankings. For adults only.

  Excerpt

  I sat up, blinking rapidly as he turned the dining room light on. “It took you longer to count than it did to find me,” I said, frustrated.

  He nodded. “Yes, but the tricks were good.” He extended his hand and helped me up. “And the hiding place.” He gripped my waist and lifted me up on the table like I weighed nothing. “Very innovative… and a very tight squeeze. Did you hurt yourself?”

  “What?” The question caught me off-guard. “No. Why?”

  He reached around and his finger touched my bare skin. “Your dress. It’s torn.”

  “Oh,” I said softly, trying to ignore how his touch made my skin tingle. “It’s no big deal.”

  “No, the dress is no big deal,” he agreed. “I can buy you hundreds of dresses.” He reached up and slid his finger across my cheek, making me tremble. “But your skin…” His finger hooked in the tear and pulled down sharply, tearing a huge gash down the back of the dress. His warm palm flattened against my back. “Your flawless skin.” I bit my lip as his hand slid around in a slow gentle circle on my back. “It would be a shame for such smooth skin to be harmed.”

  He stepped closer, tilting my head up as he leaned lower. My heart hammered in my chest as his mouth claimed mine, his tongue dancing with mine as his hand tightened on my back, pulling me closer to him. I moaned softly as his other hand found my breast, his talented fingers pinching and pulling my nipple until it was firm.

  His lips moved from mine, covering my cheek and jaw with kisses. “I caught you, il mio dolce.” My sweet. His hands slid from my breast down to the bottom of my dress, his fingers brushing softly across my leg. “And now you are mine.”

  Promised to the Mobster 1

  Jessi Talbot

  I looked in the mirror, trying not to hyper-ventilate, trying to resist the urge to run.

  “Sofia,” my mother said, “there really is no need for this drama. It’s just business.”

  I spun and looked at her, the desire to flee growing stronger. “Just business?” I asked. “Everything is just business to you and Dad… but this is my life.”

  For just a second, I thought I saw a glimmer of sympathy in her eyes, but it disappeared so fast it could’ve just been wishful thinking on my part. “It’s not like he’s a troll, Sofia. He’s really quite handsome.”

  “I wouldn’t know, would I?” I asked, my fear slowly starting to transform into anger. “I didn’t even know this guy existed until about an hour ago… and it wasn’t long after that when I found out I’m supposedly going to marry him.”

  Mom shook her head. “Not supposedly. You are going to marry him. Your father and the don of the Drago family made this arrangement years ago.” She stepped closer, looking into my eyes, smiling. “At long last, the fragile peace between the Dragos and the Amarettis will be solidified.” She reached up and ran her fingers through my hair. “Because of you, my sweet angel. The threat of violence is no more because of you.”

  I pulled away and went to the window, wondering briefly if I’d survive jumping from this height. It was only the second floor so I’d probably only break my legs. I’d have to go higher for a fall – or jump – to be fatal. I shook my head, feeling the sting of tears in the corners of my eyes. Mom made it seem so noble. An old blood-feud between two families finally laid to rest by simply reciting a few vows and wearing a ring. It was for the greater good. It was also ruining my life. “Find someone else.”

  “There is no one else,” a strong voice said from my bedroom door. I turned and saw my father enter the room, a determined look on his face. He shrugged. “We would not have this problem if you had been born a boy.”

  “Really?” I asked through gritted teeth. “This is my fault?” I ran towards him, fists upraised. He caught my wrists easily.

  “This is nobody’s fault,” he said gently, releasing my wrists, seeing the flash of anger drain from me. “It is simply the way of things.”

  “I won’t go,” I said, crossing my arms like a spoiled child, knowing that’s how I looked. I didn’t care.

  “Yes you will,” my father replied, no sign of surrender in his eyes, no hint of compromise in his voice.

  “I’ll run away.”

  That old Sicilian temper flared up in his eyes. “You will not dishonor our family in such a way.”

  I opened my mouth to tell him to stuff our family honor but I couldn’t do it. Family was everything. It had been instilled in me since birth. Bastards. I sat down on the bed and looked into the mirror. A young woman with an olive complexion and long, black hair stared back. That woman usually had a spark of rebellion shining in her eyes. That spark was gone now, replaced by a look of despair. I hated that look, but there was nothing I could do about it. I sighed. “When am I supposed to leave?”

  “The car arrived a few minutes ago. It is ready to take you now,” my father said.

  I nodded. “I just need to pack a few things.”

  “That will not be necessary,” Dad said. “Everything will be provided for you there.”

  “I don’t get to take any of my things?” Just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse.

  Mom sat down beside me and put her hand on my knee. “Honey, that’s just the way it is. It’s meant to be a fresh start; a new life.”

  I stood up quickly, pulling away from Mom’s hand. “Well, if you’re in such a hurry to get rid of me, let’s go ahead and get this show on the road.” I walked by my father, refusing to look at him as I passed.

  ***

  I stared out the window from the backseat as the Louisiana landscape slid by but my mind was on other things and I barely noticed when the sleek black sedan I was in got on the highway. I had lived in Lafayette my whole life, my family forced to move there while I just a baby because of something that had happened between my father and Casimiro Drago, the don of the New Orleans Cosa Nostra.

  I was going to miss the 2nd Saturday Artwalk and biking at the Henderson Levee, but even missing those things that were now part of my past didn’t weigh too heavily on my mind because my thoughts were on something else; something far more important.

  What if I don’t please him? I worried. What if I’m not what he wants?

  I had been told the story years ago, about how Don Drago ordered my father to leave, ordered him to never return to New Orleans for fear of death. Mom had told me they were lucky the don let him live. Now I knew luck had nothing to do with it. A deal had been made. Me. My future bargained away so that my father could have a future of his own. I didn’t hate him for that, but I was scared to death.

  What would happen if the don’s son didn’t like me? My tan complexion and dark hair – both inherited by my mother – had always driven the boys wild, but this guy was going to be
sorely disappointed if he was waiting for a waif-thin model to appear. Judging from all the guys who had tried to get into my pants through high school, I was a long way from ugly, but I was definitely what some might consider a curvy girl. I thought I was pretty… but what I thought didn’t matter here. If the don’s son didn’t like what he saw, he might call his father and tell him the deal was off. And then what?

  My stomach lurched, breakfast thinking about making a hasty retreat. Nothing like your father’s life depending on your looks to make one seriously question their ego. Sighing, I laid my head back and closed my eyes, asking my nerves to calm down. They must’ve listened to me because, at some point, I fell asleep.

  My eyes snapped open and I had a few disturbing seconds of not knowing where I was before the events of the morning spilled back into my brain. I glanced out the window, realizing we were no longer on the highway. I had missed the exit sign but I knew where we were. Metairie, the largest community in Jefferson Parish, and more importantly – at least as far as my father was concerned – it was the home of the New Orleans Zephyrs. He had brought me numerous times over the years when I was little, desperately trying to nurture a love for baseball. It didn’t work.

  I leaned forward, started to tap the driver on the shoulder, and then thought better of it. “Excuse me. Aren’t we supposed to go to New Orleans?”

  “No ma’am.”

  That was it. The driver obviously wasn’t the chatty type. I leaned back again, watching both familiar and unfamiliar sights shoot by, realized we were headed towards Lake Pontchartrain. The car turned onto a side street, and then a few minutes later, we pulled up into a driveway beside a two-story brick-and-stone house. All the windows were dark, curtains drawn, but the lawn and bushes were neatly trimmed. I don’t know why, but the place seemed less creepy because of that.

  I waited for the driver to get out, or at least tell me what to do, but he just sat there, staring straight ahead at the garage beside the house. For just a second, I thought about sitting here until someone finally decided to speak to me, but I had been in the car for almost two hours and it was almost noon.

  With a frustrated sigh, I opened the door and climbed out of the car. “Thanks for a lovely time,” I said, offering up a big, fake smile. The driver didn’t look back at me. I slammed the door as hard as I could, but still got no response, aside from the driver shifting into reverse and pulling out of the driveway. I watched the car drive off until I couldn’t see it anymore, and then turned towards the wooden double doors. The large windows in the doors had curtains over them, too. I glanced down the street and briefly wondered how far I’d get if I ran, but it didn’t matter. I had no idea what would happen if this guy didn’t like me, but I knew what would happen if I ran. My dad would die.

  I looked at the doors, my eyes resting on the doorknob. “Welcome home, Sofia,” I mumbled under my breath.

  ***

  I knocked on the door and waited. Nothing. I knocked again. Waited some more. Nice. My betrothed apparently wasn’t home… or maybe he was a sound sleeper.

  Or maybe he’s in bed with one of those waif-thin models, a voice whispered in the back of my mind. Maybe he’s torturing someone in the basement.

  The fact was I knew nothing about this guy, aside from his dad was in charge of the whole Cosa Nostra – the mafia families – that operated in Louisiana. He could be a playboy… or a psycho… or anything in-between. And there was only one way to find out.

  I reached out and grabbed the doorknob, gripping it tightly to stop my hand from trembling. This was an insane idea. Just walking in to the home of Cosa Nostra? He could shoot me on sight without ever realizing who I was.

  Screw it, I thought. Getting killed accidentally couldn’t be any worse than being forced to spend the rest of my life with someone I didn’t know. Besides, what were the chances of the door even being –

  Click.

  The knob turned. I pushed the door open slowly. “Hello?”

  Nothing but silence and darkness, except for a patch of light shining on the floor in front of a staircase that was in the center of the room. “Hello,” I said a little louder. “It’s Sofia Amaretti, your… ummm… fiancée.”

  More silence.

  “Screw this,” I whispered under my breath, stepping through the doorway. The cool air of the AC, which had tantalizingly teased me as I stood outside the door, wrapped itself around me and I couldn’t help but moan with relief as the heat and humidity of the day became nothing more than a memory. I closed the door behind me and looked around the expansive room, letting my eyes adjust to the lighting.

  The bright patch of light came from a window at the top of the staircase, creating an eerie spotlight effect that illuminated the stairs but left everything else in shadow. I peered into the darkness searching for a lamp or light switch on the wall.

  “Sciocca ragazza,” a male voice said from above me.

  I looked up towards the top of the stairs, looking to see who spoke. “I am not a foolish girl.”

  “You come into my home uninvited. Do you know how dangerous that is?” A tall, broad shadow stepped out of the darkness. “Especially for such a beautiful woman.”

  The compliment caught me off-guard. The man’s voice was deep and smooth, with just a hint of an Italian accent. It made my stomach twist in knots that weren’t entirely unpleasing. I squinted up at the featureless silhouette as it – he – came down the stairs, one hand gliding down the wooden bannister.

  “Did you forget to pay your light bill or something?” I asked.

  He laughed softly. “Ardente.” Fiery. “I like that.”

  He reached the landing and approached me. He wasn’t completely featureless now but his face was still in shadow. He walked straight towards me in long strides, forcing me to quickly step back. I made a scared sound in my throat when my back pressed against the wall and hated myself for it.

  He reached over my shoulder. I heard a faint click and the room was suddenly bathed in light shining down from a huge chandelier. I looked at the man standing before me and gasped. Long blond hair framed a chiseled face. High cheekbones and a narrow chin made him look harsh, but his eyes made me shiver. They were the deepest, darkest blue I’d ever seen. I looked into them and pictured myself drowning. He stepped closer, his body an inch from mine, and I could feel the heat rolling off of him, almost making me sweat.

  “You are Sofia.”

  It wasn’t a question but I nodded anyway, the intense look in his eyes robbing me of the power to speak.

  “Molto bello,” he said softly. Very beautiful.

  “I…” I licked my lips, almost remembering how to talk again. “I don’t even know your name.”

  He smiled and I felt my knees grow weak. “Alessio. Alessio Drago.”

  I put my hand on his chest but immediately pulled it away, my fingers tingling. I had intended to push him back but it had felt like I touched a solid brick wall. He grinned, tilting his head as he looked at me, as if trying to figure me out. “You wish for me to move?”

  I swallowed nervously. “A little personal space wouldn’t hurt.”

  Instead of backing away, he stepped closer, pinning me between the wall and his body. “But there is no personal space here, little Sofia. We are come una.” As one.

  I started to say I understood what the arrangement was but he pressed his lips firmly to mine. I placed my hands on his chest and pushed but I might as well have been trying to push the house. His tongue grazed my lips insistently until they parted for him and then his tongue was teasing mine. Caught off-guard, I moaned into his mouth as a sudden heat bloomed in my core. He pulled back, giving my bottom lip a quick nip with his teeth.

  “You have a beautiful mouth,” he said. “I could not resist any longer.” He pushed off from the wall and turned to walk towards a doorway on the other side of the room. “Come. Let me show you your new home.”

  I licked my lips, still tingling from the kiss, hating him for being so presum
ptuous, but disappointed because he wasn’t still kissing me. I followed him on legs that were still shaky, my eyes roaming up and down his body. He was dressed all in black – slacks, shirt, and jacket all the color of night – and the fine cut of the suit accentuated his broad shoulders and narrow waist. Compared to him, I felt under-dressed in my plain blue dress.

  The house was set up like a circle, with the door we went through leading into the dining room. From there, he walked me through the kitchen, a huge living room with a huge flatscreen, a guest room, a guest bathroom in the hall, and a library that led back into the main foyer. He looked at me and gestured upstairs. “The second floor has the master bedroom, master bath... and a room you don’t need to concern yourself with.”

  I nodded. “It’s a very nice place.”

  He bowed slightly. “Grazie.” He looked at me and smiled, and I took an uncomfortable step back. His earlier smile made me feel warm and tingly. This smile was like a wolf showing its teeth. “And now it’s time for la caccia.”

  “The hunt?” I asked, confused. “What hunt?”

  Alessio spread his arms, palms up. “The hunt of amare, of love; the hunt of life itself.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  That wolfish grin grew wider. “I am hunting you, piccolo bolide.”

  I wasn’t thrilled with being called a little fireball, but I was even less thrilled with the idea of being hunted. I shook my head. “I still don’t understand. I’m here. Why do you need to hunt me?”

  Alessio shrugged. “Because it is fun. Think of it as hide-and-seek. You will hide. I will seek you.” He stepped closer, his eyes hungry as they looked into mine. “And when I catch you, I will fuck you.”

  “Oh,” I said weakly, my nipples hardening at the thought of this man having his way with me.

  He looked down and noticed the hard buds pressing out against the thin material of my dress. He reached out and grazed his thumb across one and I trembled. “I know you want me, piccolo bolide… but do not make this easy for me or I will punish you. Anything – everything – that is worth having is made so much sweeter when one must work to obtain it.”