Mated To The Mafia Werewolves

Thalia clasped her hand over her mouth, suppressing a scream, as she watched from a distance. Placing her trembling hand on her pounding chest, she bit her lower lip anxiously.

The scene unfolded before her eyes: Arabella was being dragged away from the road and into a waiting black van. Thalia couldn’t help but notice the pain etched across Blaze’s face. He appeared ready to commit violence. However, Thalia understood the unforgiving nature of both the mafia and the Moon Howlers pack, led by Alessandro.

Both factions had no tolerance for betrayal, and those found guilty were executed without hesitation. This fate had befallen Arabella’s father, and Thalia feared it might also await her brother. She cared for Blaze and sensed his affection for Arabella, but she didn’t want him to risk his safety for her.

“Let go of her hand,” Blaze’s voice came out as a gruff grunt.

Thalia snorted at his words. “It’s for the best,” she mumbled to herself. Once the coast was clear, she slipped out of her hiding spot and jogged back home. As soon as she entered, she closed the door behind her, letting out a shaky breath.

Thoughts of Sandro, also known as Alessandro, occupied her mind. After a recent encounter, she had received a threatening call warning her not to aid Arabella. She realized the strength of the scent she had picked up earlier, and it had been a close call; Sandro had been watching her intently. Their past romantic relationship held no sway with him. He was capable of ending her life in an instant, without a second thought.

Shivering, Thalia wrapped her arms around herself, grateful that Sandro hadn’t discovered her involvement in sheltering Arabella. Still, she felt a twinge of guilt. Maybe she shouldn’t have taken the risks she did, but she couldn’t stand the thought of either herself or Blaze getting hurt.

Her phone vibrated, drawing her attention. She glanced at the screen and read, “Meet me at the De Luca Villa as soon as you wake up.”

“What does he want now?” Thalia muttered, glaring at the message’s content. She tossed her phone aside, but it buzzed once more.

“Now what?” she asked, irritation evident in her voice, as she answered the call.

“Ensuring you received my text,” Sandro’s voice came through the phone.

Thalia rolled her eyes, retorting, “I did, but…”

“No ‘buts,’ darling. You don’t object when I ask for something,” Sandro interjected.

“Are you my father?!” Thalia scowled, though he couldn’t see her expression.

“I can punish you,” Sandro’s tone turned stern.

“Goodness!” she hissed. “I’ve done nothing to you. Do you go around punishing anyone you encounter?!”

Silence hung on the other end before he spoke again. “You’re concealing something from me. You need to be here tomorrow. Running won’t help, it’ll only provoke me further and lead to irrational actions.”

“F**king get angry, I don’t care!”

“Careful, honey,” Sandro warned, and Thalia could almost picture the smirk on his face. “I seldom let people defy me without consequences.”Text property © Nôvel(D)ra/ma.Org.

She sighed in frustration. “Meeting you today was a mistake. We’re not together anymore, and you can’t control my life as if we…”

“Bastard!” Thalia gritted her teeth as he abruptly ended the call. Flinging her phone across the room, she collapsed onto the bed. She pondered how he had obtained her number; she was certain she had changed everything after leaving him. But then again, he was Alessandro De Luca-able to obtain anything he desired with a snap of his fingers. Resigned, Thalia recognized she couldn’t escape him even if she tried; it wasn’t an option.

She concluded that it would be best to hear him out. She didn’t need to anticipate his words because everything would likely revolve around Arabella.

____

Sandro’s hand struck Arabella’s face, causing her head to whip backward. Groaning, she bit her lower lip and raised her eyes to meet his gaze. Her eyes were red-rimmed, blood trickling from her nose and a cut on her lip. Sandro seized her throat, his grip tightening, and she gasped for breath.

“Where the f*ck were you? Who did you go to?!” His voice thundered with anger.

Arabella winced as he shoved her backward. Shutting her eyes, she gasped for a staggering breath, then opened them again.

“Would you rather die than answer my question?” Sandro’s tone was harsh.

Arabella’s head lolled weakly as she managed a nod.

“Kill me,” she slurred, her words slumping. “I’ll find freedom in death.”

Sandro moved to her side and gripped her hair, winding it around his hand to pull her face closer.

“I’ll turn your life into a living nightmare,” he rasped.

The door to the torture room swung open, revealing Thalia’s entrance. Her gaze flickered to Arabella, who seemed on the verge of collapsing from the relentless torment.

Turning her attention to Blaze, her eyes met his clenched fists. His muscles tensed as he fixed a piercing gaze on Arabella.

Sandro walked toward Thalia, halting right in front of her.

“Alessandro,” Thalia addressed him.

He studied her for a moment, then grabbed her hand, pulling her toward him. Before she could react, his lips closed over hers, a forceful and sudden kiss.

Blaze’s eyes narrowed. The desire to break Sandro’s grip on Thalia surged within him. He was aware of the history between the two, but he refrained from intervening, aware that Sandro remained ignorant of their current relationship. Revealing that now would only complicate matters.

“You seem to enjoy my kisses. So why this resistance?” Sandro chuckled, a taunting note in his voice.

He playfully slapped her backside and walked over to where his shirt hung in the corner of the room.

Thalia’s glare was intense. “We’re not together anymore. How many times do I have to remind you of that?! We’re done!”

With a swift movement, Sandro closed the distance between them and seized her hand. His grip shifted to her chin as he sneered down at her.

“I told you not to raise your voice to me, darling. Does my anger arouse you? Does that turn you on?”

“You sicken me,” she spat, her voice dripping with disdain. But despite her show of defiance, she refrained from pushing him away or erupting in anger. Underneath her facade, she was gripped by fear of him.

She no longer recognized the man standing before her. He was barely recognizable as the Sandro she once knew.

Her mind churned with questions about what could have led him down this path, as the person facing her now seemed like a complete monster.

He had transformed into a brutal individual who seemed to derive enjoyment from causing pain and suffering to others.