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

Marco was agitated. Throughout his entire two-day visit I had been handing him more than spectacular progress reports with the necessary details—like how I was the owner of it all—conveniently omitted. He was rolling in cash, just like I'd promised. Anybody would've been thrilled.


He wasn't. He was barely listening to me.


"Monsieur DiBiancci, are you listening?" I snapped my fingers in front of his face, and he finally turned his eyes toward me. Finally. "What has you so distracted?"


"It's almost March fourth," he confided, much to my surprise. "Her birthday."


Yes, I already knew it and my little bout of depression hadn't lasted long. There were better things to worry about.


I glanced around the hotel room where I'd come to meet him today, clocking his soldiers standing outside the door and even more of them where his consigliere was sitting by the balcony. I'd never seen the DiBiancci consigliere before, and the vision that met my eyes most certainly was not what I'd expected.


The Catch-Up