Filed to story: Sold to The Possessive Mafia Boss Book (Xavier & Jane) Free Online >>
The moment I step into my office, Tony is on his feet. The walls are lined with screens, a high-tech nerve center that offers a panoramic view of my sprawling estate. “No sign of Garibaldi’s men,” he says. “Alarms are all set. We’ll know if anyone gets close.”
“Guards?”
“Doubled. Every corner. No one’s getting in without them noticing.”
My focus narrows to one screen in particular—Jane and Emma in the living room, their banter piercing the veil of my usually unbreachable calm.
Emma leans in, her laughter infectious, “Xavier’s so fucking hot.” Her eyes sparkle with mischief, a rare lightness in the fortress I’ve built. “I see why you let him rip up your V-card.”
Jane’s protest is half-hearted, her smirk betraying her amusement. “You’re relentless. We’re in danger here, and all you can think about is sex. We need to get out of here.”
“But why?” Emma persists. “You’ve nowhere to go and it’s amazing here.”
Jane sighs, a mix of exasperation and resignation in her voice. “It’s not about the luxury, Em. It’s complicated.”
I can see Emma’s expression shift to one of concern. “You’re afraid of how fast things are moving. Oh my God. You’re in love with him, aren’t you?”
Jane nods, her gaze distant. “I’m tumbling down this rabbit hole, and I’m scared where it’ll lead. Plus, there’s the age gap…”
Emma laughs, “Girl, that man is fine wine. Age only makes him better. He’s been nothing but protective of you. Maybe it’s worth exploring before hitting the eject button?”
Their exchange fades as my attention turns to Tony, who’s been watching me watch them. “They’re plotting an escape,” I state, more as a fact than a concern. “I need to hear if they go through with it.”
“Not just an ego boost hearing how hot you are then?” He raises an eyebrow,
I shrug, a smirk playing on my lips. “All about making sure she doesn’t escape.”
He leans forward, his voice low. “Boss, there’s a fine line between protection and possession. Are you sure you’re not crossing it? How you going to stop her if she keeps trying to escape?”
The question stirs something in me, a flicker of introspection amidst the chaos of my feelings for Jane. “She won’t.”
“You sure?”
“I’ll chain her up if that’s what it takes.” I glance at the monitor. They’re making their way to the back door. “You got something to say, just say it.”
He shrugs. “You told me once you didn’t believe in love. You remember? Only thing in life that mattered was money. Women were a weakness, that’s what you said to me.”
“What’s your point?”
“Why’d you care so much about her safety? Why’ve you got me organizing a wedding for you both?”
“To protect her.”
“You sure about that?”
On the screen, they’re halfway across the lawn. “We better move,” I say. “They’re getting close to the boundary wall.”
As I follow Jane and Emma’s escape attempt, there’s an undeniable surge of excitement within me, an exhilarating rush that comes from the challenge of the hunt.
Yet, it’s not just the thrill of the chase that quickens my pulse; it’s the realization that Jane, in her defiance, is showing signs of the very independence and inner strength I’ve hoped to see in her.
The estate, vast and sprawling, offers countless hiding spots, each tree and shrub a potential cover. But they don’t veer off the open path; they’re heading straight for the boundary wall. I can’t help but admire their courage, even as I plan my interception.
Jane’s strides are long and determined, her figure a blur of motion against the lush backdrop. Emma, equally resolute, keeps pace, her loyalty unwavering.
Watching them, a smile finds its way to my lips, not just for their spirited attempt at freedom, but also for the memory of Jane’s hesitant admission—she’s falling in love with me.
I quicken my pace, not wanting to truly catch them too soon, allowing this moment of rebellion to unfold a little longer. Their determination is a beautiful sight.
When I finally catch up to Jane, her defiance is palpable, a fiery spirit unwilling to be quenched. “Where are you going?” I inquire as she stops dead at the foot of the wall. The echo of my sister’s voice, pleading for her own autonomy years ago, reverberates through my memory.
“Fuck you,” Jane retorts with a venom that stings, her resistance a mirror of a past I can’t seem to escape.
“Tony, take care of Emma,” I command, a part of me detesting the deja vu of control and containment.
Jane lashes out, her frustration manifesting in physical blows against my chest. “You bastard,” she sears through gritted teeth. “How could you?”
“Nothing will happen to her,” I assure, my grip on her wrists steady, a misguided attempt at reassurance.
Her fury, though, is laced with fear—a fear I recognize all too well. “You’re a monster,” she accuses, her eyes a tumultuous sea of emotion.
The label doesn’t sting as it should; I’ve been called worse. But it’s not about what I am called; it’s about the actions that earn such titles. “Believe what you will,” I counter. “But your safety is not up for negotiation. Garibaldi’s vendetta is relentless. This isn’t about control; it’s about survival.”
Guiding her back to the mansion, a silent vow forms within me—to not repeat the mistakes of my past. My sister’s loss, a wound that never fully healed, serves as a stark reminder of the cost of control without understanding.
Once inside, the order leaves my lips before I can halt it. “Face the wall, hands on your head.” It’s a command, a display of authority I deem necessary for her protection, yet the irony isn’t lost on me. I’m doing exactly what I promised I’d never do again—enforcing obedience without consent.