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When the Mafia Don Begs Novel Cover

When the Mafia Don Begs

After Ellis Winston attempts to force a premature delivery to save another woman, Selena fakes her death and vanishes. Six years later, the once-submissive wife returns as the powerful Merrick empire heiress. Armed with a divorce decree and accompanied by a secret son, she seeks retribution against the New York Don. Ellis, consumed by regret, is prepared to sacrifice his mafia throne and his life to reclaim the family he shattered.
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Chapter 4

Selena POV

Rough hands grabbed my arms and hair. I kicked and thrashed, but a heavy hand clamped over my mouth.

They shoved me hard into the dark, suffocating back of the van. The doors slammed shut. The tires squealed, and everything went black.

My head throbbed.

I blinked against the harsh, flickering light of a single bulb. I was tied to a wooden chair.

The thick rope bit painfully into my wrists and ankles. The air smelled of motor oil and stale beer. An abandoned garage.

A heavy, scarred man loomed over me. He wore a dirty leather jacket and a cruel sneer. He tapped a hunting knife against his palm.

"Wake up, princess," the Kidnapper growled. "Time to call your Mafia husband. Tell Ellis Winston to pay one million dollars, or we start mailing him pieces of you."

I kept my spine straight. I forced my voice to stay dead flat. "He won't pay a dime for me. Let me go right now. When my uncle arrives, I will give you double."

The Kidnapper scoffed loudly. He raised his heavy hand and slapped me hard across the face.

My head snapped to the side. The metallic taste of blood flooded my mouth. My lower lip split open.

"Liar!" he spat, wiping his hand on his jeans. "You don't have a rich uncle. You don't have shit. That Jenny bitch told us everything. She said the Lancaster family is completely bankrupt. You and her are the only ones left, and you don't even own the cheap clothes on your back."

My eyes widened.

"Jennifer?" I gasped, the shock freezing my blood. "Jennifer told you to kidnap me?"

The Kidnapper let out a cold, ugly laugh. "She wanted you dead. Plain and simple. But once the boys found out you were actually the Mafia Don Ellis Winston's wife, I figured you were worth way more alive."

He stepped closer. The smell of cheap liquor rolled off his breath. He lowered the hunting knife. He pressed the cold, flat edge of the blade directly against my swollen pregnant belly.

My breath caught in my throat. Terror finally broke through my calm facade.

"Please," I whispered, my voice trembling violently. "Please... don't hurt my baby."

The Kidnapper narrowed his dark eyes. He leaned in, his voice menacing. "Then call him. Now."

He reached into my cardigan pocket and ripped out my phone. He grabbed my hair, pulling my head back, and pressed the cold blade right against the pulsing vein in my neck.

With his other hand, he dialed Ellis's number and held the phone to my ear.

It rang. And rang.

Pick up. Please, Ellis, pick up. Then, the line went dead. The screen flashed CALL REJECTED.

My heart completely stopped. The line went dead. He hung up on me.

Little did I know, in the hospital suite miles away, Jennifer smiled sweetly and handed the ringing phone back to Ellis as he stepped out of the bathroom. "You should head back to work, Ellis. I'll be fine here on my own."

Ellis took the phone. He glanced at the screen. He noticed a missed call from me.

He stared at it for a second. "Alright. Call me if you need anything." He walked out without a second backward glance.

Jennifer smirked. She must believe her dear half-sister and the baby in my belly should be gone by now.

But she would be disappointed.

In the dirty garage, the Kidnapper stared at the CALL FAILED screen in pure disbelief. He pulled off his ski mask, his face twisting in agitation.

"No fucking way!" he yelled, pacing heavily in front of me. "Why didn't he answer his own wife's call? You're carrying his kid!"

I took a deep, shaky breath. The tears I refused to shed finally dried up. The last agonizing shred of hope I had for Ellis Winston completely vanished.

"Because he doesn't love me," I said. My voice was eerily calm. "I told you. He wants me dead just as much as Jennifer does. Let me go. I will wire you twenty grand right now. My uncle is tracking my phone's GPS. He is coming, and he won't be as nice as I am."

The Kidnapper stopped pacing. He looked at my calm face, then down at his knife. He hesitated.

Suddenly, the dead phone in his hand lit up.

A sharp, loud ringtone pierced the damp, silent air of the garage. It made both of us jump. The Kidnapper stared at the glowing screen.

The caller ID flashed in bold letters: Ellis Winston.

The Kidnapper's eyes widened with sudden greed. He quickly hit the answer button, turned on the speaker, and shoved the phone right next to my face.

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