The Four Mafia Men and Their Prize by M C

The Four Mafia Men and Their Prize

80 – Click

Aurora POV

“Father?”

I was stunned. A million questions continued going through my head like a cheetah trying to catch its prey in a

thunderstorm.

What? How? Why? When?

My Father. He was dead. I mourned him. The men in black came to the house and told my Aunt. I watched her collapse on the ground in sorrow; I heard her screams of pain.

She hugged me on the floor for hours until I fell asleep in her arms. I remembered the numbness. And yet here he was, in the flesh, holding onto my arms, a smirk on his face that highlighted that woman–swooning dimple he always liked

to show off.

No. This man was not my father. If my father was alive, he would have come for me. Right? He should have come for me when Aunt Maggie died. I shouldn’t have had to go to that terrible home. No, this man was not my father, he died 18 years ago shortly after my mom. I had no family left. I had made peace with that.

I snap out of my inner turmoil when I hear the tap of expensive shoes on the marble. “Stephen! We need to get the shipments…” I turned to face the man of my nightmares, still in the clutches of the man who was supposedly responsible for 50% of my DNA, and he stopped right in his tracks, his face frozen in shock, phone in his hand.

in his eyes, and begins to step

to be a brat but it’s just too good an opportunity. “I’m just going for a walk. Figured since the leash was off your dogs, I’d chase

the bastard extraordinaire exhaled a breath with a bored look on his face before he pinched the bridge of

thanks asshole!

gave my best flashy smile before adding “Yeah, fuck you!” And I quickly and dramatically pulled my arms from my father, I mean Stephen’s grasp before I sidestep him and try to rush out the door. Keyword: try. Because just as quickly as I tried to get out the door, a firm grip was in my hair and a burning fire coursed through my scalp as I was yanked back with tremendous force, and

of the walking embodiment of that decently–looking Satan. I’d call him sexy, but one I’ve seen a lot better, four to be exact and two, his handsome looks were only a facade to mask his pure black soul. I yelped in pain and his grip on

day. If I could look into his soul at this moment, I think

1/3

babe. Pull

vopred voting na dacht

Tue, 20 Feb

80- Click

should have known it was empty. It didn’t feel as weighted. Rookie mistake. Dimitry’s smirk turned to stone as he grabbed the gun

close his hot breath hit my face, I could smell a hint of cigars and mint. “You had

twisted it and turned my arm, so it was behind my back. An unpleasant shooting pain blinded my mind. I tried to struggle out of his hold, but Stephen was there and caged me in by holding a firm grip on my shoulders. A look of pain and sorrow

me go. I unsuccessfully tried to kick, punch, and slap anything I could, only to have a tighter grip on my

my ear, I took a chance and slammed my head against his. Fuck that hurt! His grip loosened but not by much and it was only a second before he

ite sat some

straight on his tile floor without concern. Good! My victory was