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 was furiously beating a remote against the palm of his hand when I was finally allowed to walk into his room. The man had his head and torso bandaged, but he still managed to look like something out of a modeling catalogue, like he was supposed to look like that. I took in his brown hair and the messy state it was in, and that's when I realised just how bloody young he was. 


I'd known his age when I hired him, of course, and I'd seen him in casual clothes, or as casual as what could be considered given Henri's personal taste, but his mannerisms had always made him seem older. He was a mature man. But he was young. 


"Isn't it a bit absurd that you don't have a wife and children, yet?" I removed my coat, finally, and pulled a chair up beside his bed. "Shouldn't you be sleeping?"


"I have slept for long enough." He clicked his tongue. "It's been two days." 


The Command