00. prologue

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Welcome to the new book of mafia series. Hope you like reading it.
Thinking about to start writing in present tense. So editing will be in slower speed though.

 So editing will be in slower speed though

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HAVE you ever considered that the power any politician holds or the head of the community has no one can surpass that? I did

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HAVE you ever considered that the power any politician holds or the head of the community has no one can surpass that? I did. The baseless logistics of waiting doesn't count in my timeline except patience. Patience is what made me realised that not everything can be a futile imagination. I imagined my mother to love me, my father to care for me and my family to cherish me. Oh, what an imagination I held! But guess what, that made me focus on the reality and pushed the imagination to dream.

Dreams are the only reality check that can forsee the future. Without dreams you are nothing, nothing except sitting on a dead bed and waiting for your time limit to end. My father never gave me any power, he waited. He waited to see if his sperm produce anything good except the black imprint of being a daughter. He watched how I got tortured, bleed and choke myself by nearing to death.

Mother word was made to let the children know that after God, there is a woman who holds power resembling to God. My mother had done the same thing, she proved that she was a Goddess. She stripped me from humanity and made me a monster, a villain and a victim. She momentarily forgot that the weapon she was sharpening to appease her lover was going to stab her. Well, she hadn't seen that coming.

I am a monster.
An inbred of violence.
I crave power.
I own skeletons.
But I can never ever be a hero.

I still have enough power to turn myself displaying a coin, that doesn't show either head or tail. It shows : villain or victim. I played along the role, whichever way it got turned. I am a greedy monster who craves for power and more than half of the time owns it.

And now, I want to own him.
I want to force him to crave for me.
I want to make him my masterpiece.
I want- need to make him mine.

My precious toy that is custom made for me.


I LOOK AT HIM and him at me yet neither of us made any move. I tantalize the sway of my hips gyrating the pole behind me keeping my eyes at him. Funny isn't it?

We both are stripped naked except the undergarments which are the only cockblocker to my path of enchantment. "What happen baby? Scared of me?" I mock him through my native tongue.

I thought of making my birthday a grand celebration only for this FBI cop to intrude in the middle of my cake cutting and taking me as- what they say? Oh! Yeah. A captive. I chuckle darkly when no reply came.

I look through my hooded eyes at how tempting he looks. There he is, cuffed at the metal bed rail. His veins pop out like an invitation for me to sink my teeth on them like a vampire towards its prey.

He is my prey. My pet. My fucking slave.

It's not a story where a woman is submissive, it's a story how a woman dominates. Be it in bed or in world. I like the term dominate, it appease me, makes me feel good, like a fucking divine God allowing people to beg for mercy.

The net stockings soak my sweat making them feel like my second skin. I laugh cruelly at how beautiful he looks, his chest heaves up and down. His erect titties want me to soak them in freezing cold to make them more erect and suck like a popsicle.

"It's a pity to see how a handsome man like you is tied up like this." Italian words come out from my mouth earning a glare from, causing me to grin widely.

I place my hands on the soft mattress and crawl on my fours like a predator to it's prey, like Nila towards Jethro, like Tina towards Tommy, like Anastasia towards Christian. I grin devilishly at him straddling on his lap. He arches his back making me bite his exposed bud. He cries in pleasure, a wonderful masochist.

I smirk looking up at him while he close his eyes. His unruly hair make me tug them harder, I knead the silky strands and arch his face upwards. He could only moan. What a sight of being a submissive!

I chuckle pulling back. My saliva drool around the now red bud, coating itself. The drop fell down on his lap but he didn't look down. His eyes were now cold, may be regret.

"It's kind of sad you know like the thoughts of where the FBI police officer is and if somehow they banged the door I will happily open it to show them a sight unseen." I sneer, my native language do suits me good.

His eyes widens. He shook his head but didn't say anything. Hmm. Interesting my pet.

I again smirk, "How will it look? The great three stars badge officer is now cuffed. The same handcuff he brought to imprison the mafia princess. What a shame baby what a shame." I tsk shaking my head.

But what made me feel satiate was his controllance, the power that only a submissive can play.

Finally after a longest pause he asks in his Italian tone forcing my wet folds to produce heat that drools down wetting my panties.

"Who are you?" I smile kissing his earlobe shuddering him. He knows who I am but not my real name. So I give him the name they all gave me.

The name that tags me like a shadow, a second figure of hidden outline that everyone is scared of. I snarl giving him the answer which made his black eyes widened.

"The fucking Reaper."

Choose your word nicely since the reaper is right behind you to tag you as death.

However how was the chapter? Do I smell the those musky scent of your dampen pants? *smirks*

Do you like Caterina? What's your opinion about her?

Do you like Caterina? What's your opinion about her?

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