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

I hissed as a needle poked into my inflamed skin, followed by the sensation of medical thread pulling the seams of the wound shut. My overgrown nails dug into the broken skin of my palms in an attempt to distract me from one sting of pain to the next. 


At this point, I should've been used to it, but I wasn't. 


"Hold still," Salem chastised, even as my arms pulled on the shackles holding my wrists to the wall above my head. "You'll never heal this way." 


"You say that as if I'm the one slicing through the stitching every week." My voice was hoarse with bitterness as I spoke, my throat scratchy from being deprived water and incessant screaming. 


"If you'd stop angering him, I wouldn't have to do this here." He held the kerosene lamp closer to my back in order to see. "Please cooperate." 


The Captivity