Conquered by the Mafia Boss

#2 Chapter 43



I look around at the beautiful, spotless apartment and a cold shiver runs through my limbs. It’s a gilded cage, isn’t it? I sink into the couch without realizing it’s there.

Johnny moves swiftly in front of the couch and sits down next to me, reaching into his jacket for a small black box.

My heart jumps in my throat as he cradles it in his hand.

“It’s not exactly how I proposed to my last two wives.”

The breath I don’t even realize I’m holding in blows out. “What happened to your last two wives?”

“I killed them.” He turns his head, laughter on his face. “Is that what you want to hear?”

“What happened?” I say in a firmer voice.C0pyright © 2024 Nôv)(elDrama.Org.

“What’s there to say? They didn’t work out.”

Yeah, I think I’m starting to understand why they didn’t.

I wonder what kinds of wives would cause this extremely traditional Mafioso bastard to divorce them.

“I think I have a right to know.”

His fingers close around the box and I almost flinch at the look in his eyes.

“Not now, Maya.”

I glare back at him, but he looks away, back at the black box. It pops open and a diamond splinters the light into a rainbow of fragments. He gently tugs it out of the box.

I’m amazed. The tiny band glitters with a thousand small diamonds. He takes my hand and slides the ring over my finger. It’s tight. My breathing quickens as though he’s wrapping a collar around my neck. And I can’t believe I’ve said yes to this man I barely know, this Italian guy who I just wanted a one-night stand with.

It’s a beautiful ring. It’s big and gaudy and expensive.

And it’s not me at all.

“This is too much.”

“You don’t like it? I can get another fucking ring.”

I don’t want another fucking ring.

I twist it off my finger and slap it back in his hand, and then I stand up from the couch.

“I’m sorry. I think I’ll take my chances at the women’s shelter.”

An extremely shocked look crosses over his face, which quickly darkens. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

He’s too cold-too brutal, and just not enough.

“I’m sorry. I can’t marry you.”

Then I walk toward the door, my head completely clear. I’d rather live in poverty than marry a man who doesn’t give a fuck about me. Hell, we don’t give a fuck about each other.

My body snaps backward and spins around as he grabs my upper arms.

“Let me go!”

“You’re not going anywhere.”

“You need me more than I need you!”

He shoves me against the wall, his face red as he yells at me. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You don’t give a fuck about me. All you care about is your fucking family.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. My head’s a bit preoccupied with knocking up the daughter of the most powerful biker gang leader.”

“So I’ll just leave town. He will never find out and we won’t have to get married.”

“There’s no fucking way I’d let you leave town.”

“Actually, I think it’s a free country-”

I shove his chest, and scream in outrage when he pins me back against the wall effortlessly. His face splits with a wide smile as he laughs at my anger.

“Maya, I want this baby. I really do.”

“Have a fucking kid with someone else!”

“I tried, and they didn’t work out. You will.”

“Well, you have shitty judgment because I can’t stand you.”

I hold my breath in as my cheeks slowly burn, immediately regretting those words, but Johnny merely shrugs, looking unconcerned.

“You can’t stand me, huh?”

The hands holding my wrists to the wall become sensual.

Oh no.

They glide over my skin, giving me goose bumps as Johnny’s hips dig into mine. His lips just brush my cheek.

“You must hate my fucking guts.”

I feel the outline of his cock, slowly starting to harden against my thigh. I clench my thighs together and feel the wetness gathering between him.

“Y-yeah.”

Damn it.


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