SugaryWinter

Do you ever wonder what your life will be like when you cross paths with your arch nemesis? Yes? Well buckle up, it’s a wild ride.

Katarina Montenegro is what everyone would simply call spoiled. She was raised with a silver spoon in her mouth and a custom Tiffany’s diamond tiara on her head. She was referred to as The Spanish Princess by everyone who knew of her existence, and she revelled in the nickname. She was young, cunning, and powerful. There was nothing Katarina wanted that she didn’t have. 

On the other hand, Marco DiBiancci was known by everyone as The Emperor Lynx, due to his ability to see through deception as easily as he could breathe. Unlike Katarina, who lived a mainly pampered life, Marco was raised by a strict father who wanted him to be in the front lines of the job since he was fourteen years old. He had spent his years getting his hands dirty and washing them again. He was young, strong, and powerful. There was nothing Marco wanted that he didn’t take for himself. 

The common ground? They were both set to inherit their father’s thrones as King and Queen of their respective organised crime kingdoms. 

The problem? Marco wanted Katarina, or more importantly, he wanted what she was set to lay claim on. Even though the two had never met, Marco was determined to get his hands on her by all means necessary, and that’s how we’re here.

This is how I, Katarina Montenegro, was kidnapped by the Italian mafia.

[WARNING: highly foul language and mature themes]

Kidnapped by the Italian Mafia

Henri insisted that Philipe drive me around the city, which wasn't necessary, considering it was safe for me now. But then again, I didn't know Saint-Étienne very well, so it might have been for my convenience after all that he drive me around. Also I didn't know how to drive stick, which this European Mercedes most definitely was. 


Philipe, like Henri, was a fluent English speaker, so I could relax and speak English around him, even though it was safer for me to speak French anywhere that wasn't my home. He was a loyal young man only two years older than me, and he had been contracted by Henri himself. 


In fact, everyone in the house had been contracted by Henri himself. All I had to do was hire him, and he immediately took care of the rest. I would forever be in his debt. 


The Filler