Captured by a Mafia Boss

JULIAN'S POV I sat in my club, La Rosa, an establishment where I did most of my sit-downs with various of my guys and other mob bosses in. My late a**hole of a father, Don Adriano, dumped this f*cking shi*t on me when he had a hit successfully carried out on him. I hadn't asked to be the next mafia boss and I wanted no f*cking part in it yet, yet here I was, nursing a glass of my favorite drink, an aged brandy, neat, while my guys were going on about business. Like my father and many of the mother*ckers said before him, 'You don't choose the life, the life chooses you.' My gaze was locked on the girls, dancing around poles with sensual hips and sultry gazes. Each one was handpicked by me. I made sure to have a handle on who was hired within this place. “We had triple the amount come out of bets, and Dave got us the contract with this oil company that is taking off. We have more money raking in from a few other labor unions." Daniel was talking business beside me, but I was too lost on one of the new entertainers that I had hired on a few weeks ago. She was doing pretty good for being new to the club. “Don Julian," Daniel grabbed my attention from the woman spinning around a pole in a fluid motion with her legs fanned before clicking her f*ck-me heels. “There is this new company that is just opening up. They're doing really well for themselves. One of the soldiers gave me the rundown. It sounds like a decent bet. But, we uh, we also have an issue with one of the business owners pulling through." “Who?" I put my full attention on Daniel. “Johnny Boy," Daniel let his name fall from his mouth with ease. I kept a straight face and commanded, “If John doesn't pull through then make him disappear." I hated it. I hated commanding the guys to do this f*cked-up sh*t. I just wanted to live a life where I could settle down and not have to watch my back all the time. This wasn't the life I had signed up for. My father wasn't supposed to be murdered to place my a*s in his spot. Yet, here I was, trapped and shackled to the arms of an elaborate throne and forced to wear a crown of thorns. “You got it, Boss," Daniel nodded in agreement, and I never wanted to punch him in the mouth more. For once, I wanted someone to put up a fight with me. I was surrounded by men trained to do my bidding and forced to agree to anything I told them. Every order from my full lips had to be met with a 'yes, sir' and I just wanted one to tell me 'no, sir'. Just ONCE, I wanted someone to defy me. “I need you to go make sure that money ends up on my desk by tonight. You know, knock a few kneecaps for me," I winked. Daniel grunted and nodded, taking his burner phone out to type a group text to some of my soldiers, I'm sure. I didn't have to worry about my underboss too much, he understood how this worked. Threaten the clientele to pay up, the faster the better. I didn't care how it was accomplished, just that it was done. I raised my index and middle fingers, flicking them to signal over one of the girls from the floor. I leaned forward with my ankle on my thigh to grab my glass of brandy to finish it. My gaze didn't rise from the table, as I held up my empty glass for the girl to take, “Bottle of Champagne." Soft fingers grazed mine and set a spark between us. I peered up with interest to say something to her when I lost my words. She was f*cking gorgeous. Actually, she was beyond beautiful, a true Goddess. Her vibrant red hair and sparkling Kelly-green eyes caught my attention. My gaze ran down her body, taking in the way her opaque, white, lace, corset dress hugged her waist and the sweetheart neckline showed off her gorgeous br*asts. The way the flowy hem skirted along the tops of her thighs and showed off the lower curves of her behind in the back made me harden between my thighs. Once my brain started working again, I wondered when Daniel had hired her because I sure as h*ll hadn't approved of her. She leaned over with a coy smile and ran her fingers around the rim of my glass before taking it into her hand with a cute wink. God, her button nose and full red lips were really doing it for me, but those eyes... those, f*cking, eyes could bring me to my knees and make me beg for mercy. My gaze ran down to the oxblood, leather, collar around her neck and the rose gold tag sparked in the light. My color caressing her neck made me want to slip my fingers beneath it and pull her close, claiming her as mine in a fit of passion. I was entranced by her instantly. “Of course, Sir." Her voice was like a calm honey, sweet as nectar and dangerous as all h*ll. F*ck, I was in trouble. She walked away with a sway to her hips and all I could think about was her on her knees at my feet calling me Master. I watched her, tracking her around my club and rubbing the corners of my lips with a greedy gaze. God, I wanted to know what those lips could do. I punched Daniel in the bicep and leaned over to speak over the loud music into his ear, “When did we hire that woman?" Daniel leaned towards me with a laugh, “Which one? You need to clarify, Boss. There are sh*t tons of women in here." “The one that just walked up to me to grab my order and took my glass away," I knocked him upside the head. How had he missed her? She was near impossible to miss. “Oh, her." Daniel looked over at the redheaded woman in the opal lingerie. “She's recent. She came in loo—" “Shh....enough." I covered his mouth with my hand, shoving him away as I stood up and strode towards the new cocktail waitress. She was headed my way with the bottle of Champagne, in our signature ice bucket, and glasses, juggled in her other hand, when she ran into me. I caught her as an apology shot out of her mouth like a bullet from my Glock. She swallowed hard and I could tell she had no idea who she was dealing with. Her doe eyes slowly raised to my smoldering gaze, causing her cherry-hued lips to part. F*ck, I wanted to capture them with mine in a kiss that would make her knees buckle. I let my gaze slowly wander to the Champagne and licked my lips with my hand in my pocket. She straightened up and cleared her throat, brushing a stray strand of fiery hair behind her ear. I pointed at the bottle with my index finger, “Is that for me?" She seemed to think for a moment, wondering if I meant her outfit or the bottle of bubbly in her hand. A warm peach tone danced across her cheeks and over her cute nose, making her glow. “I was... I was headed to your table," she peered down, not meeting my gaze, and I smirked, amused. I reached up to run my finger and thumb along the sides of my lips, checking her out, before gesturing for her to follow me back to my office. I wanted to know more about her. Scratch that, I NEEDED to know more about this lovely angel in my club. She stalled; I could tell by the way she shifted her dark red heels along the flooring. I smirked; my signature color really did look good on her. She was busily rubbing the toe of her right heel into my floor with her plump bottom lip between her teeth. F*ck, how much I wanted to bite it myself and make her moan my name as I— I shook myself out of it as she made up an excuse. It was valid, she was working. “I'm supposed to walk it to your table, Sir." She gave me baby doll eyes, as she peered up at me with a cute and feigned innocent expression. She was good, REALLY, good. I crossed my arms over my chest and clicked my tongue, watching her with a piercing gaze that made her breathing hitch. I slid my dress shoe across the carpeted floor, widening my stance and making her gaze shoot to my feet and linger up my body to lock onto my gaze. That's right, look at me, kitten. “I'm sorry, I didn't introduce myself. I'm Julian, owner of this club." I held out my hand to shake her hand with a welcoming smile on my face. “I'm so sorry. Oh my God! I just started today, and I hadn't met the owner—I mean you yet." She seemed flustered and like she was all over the d*mn place. I was used to that reaction, but I had hoped she wouldn't have given me it. “It's alright. I'm usually not in the club. I tend to run it from home." I smiled at her, relaxing my stance a bit to calm her down. She seemed super on edge; I could tell by her trembling body that she was nervous as f*ck. “Anyway, care to talk?" “Yes, of course, Sir!" There she was with the 'Sir' again. The mere sound of the honorific on her lips made a shiver of arousal run through me. I flexed in my tight dress pants and hoped she didn't notice what she did to me. She followed me to my office like a good girl and I yanked the chair out from across my executive desk for her. “Sit, please," I held it out and waited for her to set the bottle of Champagne and glasses down. She brushed her slender fingers beneath her a*s and sat down in the chair and looked up at me when I sat on the corner of my desk. D*mn those vibrant green eyes. I had never seen irises so green before. I leaned back to grab a ledger from my desk, flipping it open on my lap and grabbing a black fountain pen from the hidden pocket inside my suit coat. I brought my ankle up onto my thigh and rested the jet-black leather notebook on my calf. “How about we start with your full name and who hired you?" I gave her a cunning smile and pressed the tip of my pen to the soft paper. Another flush of pink tinged her cheeks like a sunrise along the horizon and words that I never thought would fall from her lips did. “Aren't you aware of what happens in your club?" She crossed her legs and folded her arms across her chest with a raised eyebrow. Oh, we were going to play this game. It had been ages since someone had challenged and defied me. My, my, she was a bratty girl. “Typically," I smirked and shrugged my shoulders. “I hadn't been made aware of you being hired until tonight due to my busy schedule." Her eyebrow raised and she relaxed, making it acutely aware that she was confused by my words. Perfect. I was about to say more when my office door busted open and one of my soldiers shouted, “Daniel's been shot!" The memory of the day that my father's hit was carried out in the pizzeria owned by my grandmother hit hard. No matter how many times I had gone through someone close to me being f*cking shot, it never got easier. And no matter what you couldn't stop f*cking working. The memory of my mom scolding me at my father's funeral flashed in my mind, and I swallowed hard. “Stop working, it's your father's funeral," she had hissed with a trembling voice. I had leaned over to whisper back against her ear in an endearing tone, putting on the nicest voice I could muster, “Father would want his business to keep running. It can't keep running like a well-oiled machine if I don't answer them." “You boys and your working. You're gonna run your a**es into the ground if you keep it up," she had flicked my temple after swearing at me in Italian. I shoved the thought away and focused back on what my guy had told me. Daniel, my father figure since birth was bleeding out on my d*mn club's floor. I couldn't spiral, not now. I didn't have time to think about it. I needed to act not think. “Ah, f*ck," I cursed with a scowl and tossed my ledger and pen aside to deal with the issue, leaving the poor girl even more confused than she already was.