Strong-willed, badass and bounded by the chains of an arranged marriage, Isabela Arias dreams of the freedom to live and love as she chooses.
Being sold to the Italian mafia wasn't exactly on Isabela's to do list...
As she's forced to navigate the r...
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The clashes of my punches against the punching bag echo through the vacant gym. One jab, two jabs, three jabs. Every other swing causes the punching bag to fly away, but Lorenzo does a great job of keeping it still. A word of advice from Lorenzo — strategize my jab on my opponents and make them count.
Whether I like to admit it or not, I'm at a significant disadvantage for being a woman in a man's world. Who knows if I really have it in me to beat them? I won't know until the very minute, fighting for survival. It doesn't sound impossible. I've been fighting for survival for years. It's my time to shine, to thrive, to live.
My knuckles burn beneath my gloves, forming blisters as we speak. I've been at it for an hour straight to up my endurance. Sweat and mascara trickle into my eyes, causing my left eye to close, irritated by the product, and ruining my rhythm.
"I knew I shouldn't have put on mascara this morning," I groan, getting whacked in the face by a white cloth towel.
Lorenzo's lips curve into an amused grin. "We both know you wore it to try to seduce me into fucking you instead of training you."
Black mascara stains the cloth and probably my face. "In your dreams. I've stopped that four days before I got into the training."
He hums, stalking towards me, lazily wrapping his arms around my waist, but I stop him from getting any closer by jutting my palm out, pushing his chest back. My mouth waters at the sight of the definition of his abs, my thumb pressed against the contour of it.
I shake my head. "You're supposed to be putting me through a gruesome BootCamp."
Two dimples appear beneath the angle of his mouth, a slightly crooked curve to his lips. "You're right, but..." A gasp breaks through when he grabs my hips, lifting them for me to wrap my legs around his waist. "I've another activity for you to practice your endurance."
I bite my lip. "Very funny, but I'm serious!" He plops himself onto a bench, keeping me on his lap as he pushes my hair away from my face. "Today's my last day to make sure I'm prepared. I've got to win, Lorenzo-- I need to."
He snuggles his head in the crook of my neck, twirling my hair around his finger. "But what about me?" His lips jut out in a pout as he peers up at me. "I wanted to have some fun tonight. Like stuffing that cute little mouth with my cock."
Heat floods to my face. "You're annoying," I scoff, prying my body from his grasp and returning to the punching bag until a hand on my wrist prevents me.
"Okay, okay," Lorenzo slightly chuckles. "On a more heavy, depressing note, we don't know how tomorrow is going to turn out. Obviously, if I have to bet on anyone to beat all odds, it's you." His hand finds my chin, lifting it up to glance into his electric blue irises. "I would never doubt you, but why spend your possible last day alive training?"
"Because I need to do everything in my power to win."
With a groan, he brushes his fingers through his dirty blonde hair. "Okay, so what if you exhaust yourself to the point of no return? Isabela, you deserve a break. You've made this place your home for the entire week. Believe it or not, you have grown a lot this week, Isabela. Enjoy what could be your last day."
