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CHAPTER1
Christopher
My lip curlsin disgust as I watch Gerard Smith from my surveillance point.
The slimy motherfucker.
There's nothing I hate more than a fucking thief. The cocky son of a bitch is strutting around his villa.
I'm still seething with rage at the territories he stole from me. Well, technically, he stole them from my father, but now that my father's dead and I'm the new head of the Italian mafia, it goes to say that he stole from me.
What Gerard doesn't understand about me is that nobody gets away with disrespecting me in any shape or form. He's strutting around like a peacock because he's confident I won't start a war.
Mafia Wars are dirty, bloody affairs, and nobody wants that unless it's the last resort. Sure, my men would follow my orders, but it would definitely cause discontent to start a war over a few pieces of territory.
No, war has to be reserved for something way bigger.
That doesn't mean I'm going to let this go, though. If Gerard thinks he's going to skate out of this squeaky clean and smelling like a rose, he's got another thing coming.
I watch as the tiny brunette with hair that flows down to her waist dances up to him. She’s a beauty to be sure with her tight, young body. He places a fatherly kiss upon her forehead as he smiles down at her indulgently.
Every man has a weakness. My mouth tips up into a wicked grin. Little does Gerard know I have a trump card up my sleeve.
I'll have my territory back one way or the other, and I'm not above kidnapping to do it.
CHAPTER2
Marissa
I awaken with a start.
“Make a sound and I’ll break that pretty little neck.” A pair of blazing blue eyes are burning down at me like twin flames.
My heart hammers against my ribcage as I take in the fearsome form hovering over me. The man is huge. The hand around my neck is enormous. A lock of dark hair falls onto a strong forehead. Shadows dance upon a chiseled jaw.
I open my mouth, but before I can utter a sound, his hand squeezes on my windpipe.
“What did I say?” he grits out between clenched teeth.
I stare up at him with wide eyes.
“We can do this the easy way or the hard way,” he tells me, his voice as rough as sandpaper. “Blink once if you understand.”
I blink without hesitation.
“You can come with me willingly without making a sound, or you can scream and struggle and I'll sedate you.” He produces a syringe from out of nowhere. “Understand?”
I blink once to let him know I got the message loud and clear.
“Good girl,” he murmurs.
I glare up at him.
He removes his hand slowly from my neck and watches me cautiously, as if he thinks I'm going to scream at any moment.
I just stare at him defiantly. That must amuse him because his lips tip up into a smirk.
Once he’s satisfied I'm going to cooperate, he yanks the covers off of me and grabs my arm to pull me up. His eyes flicker down my body, and he frowns. “What the fuck are you wearing?” If possible, his voice is even harder and grittier than before.
