Mafia's Obsession: Dark Legacy

Lyra's Pov.

I'd spent almost the entire day locked up in the room alone. One of Salvatore's girls—couldn't even tell how they were related, probably one of his flings—brought me breakfast and lunch but I hadn't touched a single bite.

I mean, why would I?

What if it was poisoned? Salvatore had made it painfully clear he didn't see me as his wife and didn't care about me, let alone love me. Killing me would be nothing to him. Just a snap of the finger and I'd be gone—no trace, no body.

I glanced out through the floor-to-ceiling window. It was already dark. I picked my phone up from the bed and checked the time—almost half past six. I still couldn't believe that monster had locked me in all day.

The door creaked open again—probably the girl bringing me dinner. But it wasn't.

It was Salvatore.

Dressed in a black trouser, white t-shirts with the sleeves rolled up, showing off the black and red ink crawling up his arms. His silky dark long hair was styled into a loose ponytail making his face card more lethal.

He stood there, staring at me for a bit before shutting the door and walking in slowly. His steps were quiet but deliberate. He didn't say a word, just stared, his eyes never leaving mine.

"I see you're not yet ready," he finally muttered.

"Was I supposed to be?" I snapped.

He scoffed, biting his lower lip as he moved closer.

He didn't stop. Every step he took forward had me taking one backward—until my back hit the wall.

Now he stood just inches away, staring into my eyes, his warm breath fanning across my face.

"Wh...what do you think you're doing?" I stuttered, swallowing hard.

"I haven't done anything... yet, princess"

That 'yet' it only meant one thing—he hadn't but he would. Before I could blink, he closed the distance between us, his hands slipping under my hoodie. He pulled it up, stopping at my chest, exposing my stomach and bra.

"Raise your hands up, princess," he ordered, his voice low and rough—almost a growl.

I didn't move. I refused to. Until his fingers brushed down my bellybutton, slow and deliberate, sending a shiver rushing up my spine. He didn't need to repeat himself.

I raised my hands, allowing him to pull the hoodie off completely.

Now I was left in just a bra and baggy pants. One second they were on, the next I felt them sliding down my thighs.

How the hell...?

He'd unbuttoned them without me even noticing. My eyes widened in disbelief but he kept the same calm, cocky smirk tugging at his lips.

This man was sly. Dangerous. Like a goddamn fox.

He leaned in close,his breath ghosting over my ear.

"You might want me to help you freshen up, huh, princess?"

I blinked. Twice. Then shoved him with both hands. He barely moved—man was solid as a wall.

Flustered, I rushed towards the bathroom, covering my butt with both hands as I slammed the door shut. I could hear him chuckle.

I stayed there for nearly thirty minutes, hoping he'd be gone when I came out.

Well, no luck.

When I opened the door, our eyes met. I groaned and almost shut it again.

"Get the hell out. I need to change" I barked as I walked out of the bathroom with a frown settled on my forehead.

"I've seen bigger and better boobies. Moreover, this one?" He gestured toward me with that annoying smug smirk of his. "This one is legally mine"

Oh-ho. His core. I mean, would you expect any less from a man whore? And what the devil did he mean by lawfully?

I hissed, grabbed the dress from the bed and stormed back into the bathroom. It seemed he badly wanted to stay in the room, he could rot there for all I cared!

Putting on the dress... Oh my fucking goodness!

God help me. It was tight. And short.

So. Ridiculously. Short!

The neckline plunged scandalously low, the back dipped all the way to my waist, and the hem? Damn! It stopped high on my thigh with a bold slit daring to expose more .

How the actual hell did he expect me to wear something this revealing? It hugged my curves like it was a second skin!

I paced in the bathroom, chewing my inner cheek while the dress clung to my body like it was painted on. After a few moments of hesitation, I finally decided to step out.

"Look, you don't—" I started but stopped.

He was gone.

Phew! I exhaled in relief.

Now came the real crisis—walking in the damn heels without tripping. I could already picture it; one wrong step and boom! I'm the clown of the night.

I considered faking sick. Maybe say I had cramps or a headache? But that'd be a terrible excuse l, especially after I'd almost strutted out of the house earlier looking like a whole fashion statement.

Sighing in defeat, I slipped on the heels and stepped out the door.

.....

"Don't tell me this missy is who we've been waiting for for the past two hours," the ginger-haired girl—the same one who'd brought me breakfast and lunch—snapped.

Salvatore's gaze, along with two other men I'd seen back at my father's house and at my wedding, all shifted towards me where I stood on the stairs, clutching the railing just to stay upright in those death trap heels.

Not like I'd spent the two hours locked in a spa. If she wanted to throw shade, she better aim it at her boyfriend—or whatever the hell Salvatore was to her—not me.

I hissed under my breath and rolled my eyes.

Why the hell were they all staring at me like I'd just risen from the dead in a dress made of pure gold?

Was I that drop-dead gorgeous? Because the way they were looking, you'd think Marilyn Monroe had just stepped down the stairs.