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Kidnapped by the Italian Mafia

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]

SugaryWinter · Urban
Not enough ratings
203 Chs

The City of Love (2)

"Henri," I called out sweetly, searching the halls for my wayward butler, who was probably somewhere polishing silverware. I had only been in Paris for three hours and already I was unimpressed. The view of the city wasn't better than the view of the country, and I already missed the artsy atmosphere of Saint-Étienne. "Henri!"

The house was quiet, the only noise came from the ticking grandfather clock in one of the halls and the other noises came from the scooters honking outside. If I looked out the window, I'd probably see a brunette in a pleated skirt and beret apologising to another brunette in a black and white striped shirt and satchel while he stared at her longingly.

It was sickening.

"Nazareth, have you seen Henri?" I really needed to stop speaking to Nazareth in English.

"Non, madame."

Great. Now I needed to leave a message with Nazareth. "If he comes back, tell him I've gone shopping with Moira. I'll be back in a bit."

"Et monsieur Connor?"