Mated To The Mafia Werewolves

“Hey,” Blaze called as Arabella’s gaze shifted from her phone screen to him by the door. He stepped further into the room and settled on her bed, where he had been just moments ago. His intense gaze locked onto her.

“What?” Arabella’s hand went to cover her face, suddenly self-aware of her appearance. A blush crept up her cheeks, and she grimaced. It was her first time caring about how she looked around Blaze. She hadn’t previously minded her bed hair or being in her pajamas. But now, she wished she looked her best.

“Quit staring,” she mumbled; though she couldn’t see him, she could still feel his gaze on her.

“How do you know I’m still staring? You’ve covered your face,” Blaze replied.

“It’s strange, but I can sense the intensity of your gaze. Even if I’m asleep, I can feel you staring at me.”

Blaze chuckled and gently removed her hand from her face, intertwining his fingers with hers. He took a deep breath, feeling a tingle as their skin met. Heat surged within him, causing him to wince as his heart raced.

‘She’s ours,’ Red whimpered.

“No,” Blaze muttered. Red was mistaken; Arabella wasn’t his. She would never be. But how could he explain the feelings that stirred inside him whenever he was with her? It was peculiar as if the moon goddess had bestowed Arabella upon him as a mate.

“If a glare could kill, I’d be dead by now.” Arabella smoothed the crease on his forehead, causing Blaze to jerk slightly. He tried to pull his hand away, but she held onto him firmly.

Blaze furrowed his brow.

“You were deep in thought. What were you thinking about?” she asked.

“It’s nothing,” he rasped, his gaze moving from their intertwined hands to her beautiful face. She was flawless, even with the sprinkling of freckles on her skin. It added to her beauty. Her baby blue eyes sparkled, and a faint smile curved her rosebud lips.

“Are you ever going to let go of my hand?”

“Are you ever going to stop staring at me?” she countered.

“I can’t,” Blaze mumbled.

“Why?”

“You’ve bewitched me.” He chuckled as she arched a brow. “I sometimes wonder if you’re an unconfirmed witch.”

“What does that mean?” Arabella frowned, unconsciously caressing his knuckles.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about that. Just focus on recovering.”Belongs to © n0velDrama.Org.

Arabella tsked and then glared at Blaze. “You’re way too evasive for my liking.”

“It’s for your own good. Not knowing everything is what keeps you safe.”

“But it won’t keep me safe from Sandro.”

Blaze shrugged and sighed. “I should get you something to eat.”

“Stay here,” Arabella clutched his hand tighter.

Blaze gave her a questioning look.

“You make me feel safe, and I like holding your hand.”

“It’ll only be for a few moments. I already asked Janice to arrange a meal for you,” he said, hoping she would release her grip.

“I don’t think I taught you enough of a lesson last time about staying close to her.”

Blaze stiffened, his back muscles tensing, and he ground his teeth before casting a glare at Sandro.

Arabella shook her head, gripping his hand as he got up.

“Please, don’t leave me alone with him!” Her voice trembled.

The memory of Sandro whipping her the first time flashed through her mind, along with the excruciating pain she endured last night. She didn’t want to suffer any more, but she was certain there was no escape. She felt utterly trapped.

“I’ll be back soon,” Blaze promised. He let go of her hand and moved towards the door.

He exchanged a steady look with Sandro, who held his gaze for a moment before leaving the room.

Blaze stood by the door, taking a deep breath as he swallowed the lump in his throat. Arabella, he thought, wondering how much more punishment she could endure.

“Please, stay strong for me,” he said, stumbling toward Janice’s room as he heard Arabella scream his name.

Arabella shot out of bed the moment Blaze left, ripping the IV line from her hand.

She rushed toward the door, but Sandro grabbed her by the neck, pulling her back sharply. He dragged her forcefully to the bed, shoving her onto it without concern for any potential injury. He loomed over her, scowling. “Do you think anyone would help you if you tried to run away? I’m the boss here, and you’ll do as I say.”

Arabella’s heart raced, and she shivered as his grip tightened on her chin. Reaching out to the bedside table, she tapped it and grasped the first object within her reach. She thought it was a fork and, without hesitation, she used it to stab him.

“Bitch!” Sandro grunted, grabbing her hand and pinning it above her head. He secured her hands with a nearby rope he found on the floor. Grimacing, he removed the fork from his back, his gaze falling on the bloodstains before tossing it aside.

Sandro seized Arabella’s neck, growling. “How about you recover quickly? I have a feeling you enjoyed last night.”

Struggling to speak, Arabella choked out, “You’re being cruel.”

“Tell that to someone who’d kill me if they had the chance,” he retorted. Releasing her, he hopped off the bed, his back arching as he stretched with a groan.

Arabella yelled in his face, “I’m not a monster like you, and I’m not consumed by revenge. I have a purpose in this world!”

Sandro’s grip tightened as he yanked her hair, his lips near her ear. “The more you scream at me, the worse your punishment will be once you leave here.”

“What do you want from me?”

“I already told you, Cara Mia,” Sandro sat on the remaining space of her bed, caressing her face. “I told you and your damned father, ‘I won’t rest until I see your body six feet under, beneath my foot.'”

His eyes glinted with a golden hue as he stared at her, and Arabella trembled, seeing the danger that lurked within them.