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

He'd left thirty minutes before Mac walked in on me gorging myself on bacon to fill the emotional anguish caused by the ache in my core. 


That telltale ache that made me cross my legs and press my thighs together all day because a certain six-foot-something gremlin decided to deny my orgasm out of petty jealousy. 


Jealousy. It made me uncomfortable that Marco felt jealous, especially when we agreed it was just sex and he was engaged. 


Had he left his fiancée all night to be with me? That thought made me feel like a shitty quality of woman. It was a marriage of convenience between them, but it was still disrespectful. Elena had been looking at me a lot yesterday and for the most part I'd pretended not to notice, but there were times where our eyes would meet and I'd smile awkwardly at her. 


It was the <i>'I think you're lovely so it's nothing against you but I'm fucking your man'</i> type of smile. 


God, I <i>hated</i> being the other woman.


The Supposed Date