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

"Leaving already?" The receptionist faced us with a practiced look of disappointment. We both knew better than to act nonchalant, so Henri tightened the hand he had resting around my waist, placing another one on my hip from behind me. His grip on me, coupled with his breath hitting my neck made me blush furiously and I pretended to push him away. 


"It was a wonderful party." I tried to say, quickly cut off by Henri pressing himself against my back. His lips against my neck stretched and I could tell he was smirking, the sly bastard. "Do let me know if there are any more get-togethers like these."


"O—of course." The receptionist cleared his throat and gave us a knowing smile. "Have a good night." 


We were already heading up the stairs by the time we responded with a breathless "bonne nuit!"


The Exit