webnovel

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 Negotiations (2)

"I will also bring a new thing to your attention, miss VanBurren." Marco brushed his hair back unnecessarily because every single strand on his head was sitting perfectly in place, no doubt from all the sustainably packaged organic vegan gluten free cruelty free silicone free hair gel he would use every day. The company he bought it from would plant a tree with every purchase.

Unbelievably the man would move thousands of bodies across continents per day but he was worried about his hair's carbon footprint.

"Which is what?"

"You would be my leading manager in the UK. Everything that's done here would be monitored by you." He said this as if I was supposed to be impressed. I mean, I would have been, if I was actually Isabella VanBurren and not his blood borne rival.

"You plan to expand your operations here?"

"In time, that is the goal."

He was stupid. So incredibly stupid.

"The UK is Montenegro territory. If you trespass, they will see it as a declaration of war."