Claimed by the Devil
When Sophie's wrong turn into a private dining room leads her to discover her boyfriend's betrayal, she finds herself trapped in the dark world of Milan's most powerful mafia boss. But in his dangerous embrace, she discovers that sometimes the greatest risk leads to the deepest surrender.
The crystal chandelier cast a thousand rainbows across Bissimo's tablecloths.
26 years old. Out of place. Drowning in Milan's elite.
Daniel was 15 minutes late. My stomach clenched.
This dinner cost half my monthly salary.
Our anniversary. Our lie.
I watched wealthy couples speaking in hushed tones, wishing I belonged.
Then I saw them. Three men in a corner.
The first two scanned the room with calculated precision.
The third commanded the space by merely existing.
His back to me, yet I couldn't look away.
When he turned, I forgot to breathe.
Dark eyes caught me watching.
There you are.
He slid into his seat 30 minutes late. No apology.
I noticed lipstick on his collar. Not mine.
My heart plummeted. I said nothing.
We'll have the 2015 Barbaresco.
He didn't ask what I wanted.
I ordered the cheapest pasta.
Has your father considered the investment opportunity?
No. His pension isn't for your startup ideas.
€50,000 would barely affect his retirement fund.
The answer is no.
We'll discuss it later. I need to take a call.
A woman in red argued with the maître d'.
Daniel, tell them who I am!
The entire restaurant went silent.
Does she know about Milan? About us?
She pointed directly at me.
Three months you promised to leave her.
Security moved. Glass shattered.
He was planning to steal my father's pension.
I stood, legs weak, and walked out.
In my panic, I took a wrong turn down a hallway.
I pushed through a door into a private dining area.
Three men stood over maps. They looked up instantly.
It was him. The mysterious man from the corner table.
The girl is crying.
Time suspended as our eyes locked.
There you are. Sophie, come. Now.
Remove your hand from her.
Mr. Russo. I apologize for the interruption. We're leaving.
You know me?
By reputation only, sir.
And yet I do not know you. An imbalance I find concerning.
Attend to your girlfriend. She deserves better care.
Daniel dragged me back into the corridor.
Do you have any idea who that was?
Aleandro Russo. He owns half of Northern Italy's imports.
The other half no one talks about.