Chapter 1

Sara

Martha and I walk out of the lecture hall together, merging into the river of students flooding the hallway. Our management theory class has just ended and it is finally the weekend.

“How does it feel to be back on campus?”

I roll my eyes dramatically. “I can’t say I missed the campus drama but after a whole month of engagement parties and pretending to be the happy fiancée, it’s better than being paraded around like a show pony.”

Martha laughs, her brown eyes twinkling with mirth. She’s the only one who understands my situation with Lorenzo. The arranged marriage I never asked for but can’t get out of.

I know my father- my family needs the alliance, but it doesn’t make me feel any less of an object to be married off like this. I shouldn’t care, but Lorenzo is not even remotely relevant in the Cosa Nostra. Just a disgustingly wealthy man with the self-destructive tendency to bite off way more than he can chew. He’s been my father’s associate for long enough to strike a deal with him, but I doubt he is truly aware of what he’s gotten himself into. And now, I’m stuck with him.

“Well, at least you’re back now,” she says. “Everyone thought you’d stay away until the wedding, but you even came back a week earlier than you had originally planned.”

“Not sure I could have handled another week of that,” I reply.

“Well, look at it on the bright side,” she says. “At least you got to enjoy the food. I heard the lobster bisque was to die for.”

“Not sure it’s worth having to wear pantyhose in the July heat,” I reply.

We head out the heavy double doors into the late afternoon sunlight. Students lounge on the grassy quad, soaking up the sunshine. Two guys toss a frisbee back and forth, their carefree laughter carrying on the breeze. I wish I could trade places with them.

Martha gives me a sympathetic smile. “Chin up, buttercup. It’s good to have you back, even under these circumstances.”

The thought of the wedding still makes my stomach twist into knots.

Just the mention of the wedding makes my stomach twist into knots. In three short months, I’m expected to walk down the aisle to marry Lorenzo, a man twice my age who gives me the creeps.

All because Daddy dearest decided it would be good for business to merge our families. My whole future signed away without so much as a “hey Sara, what do you think about this?” It’s infuriating.

“Have you tried talking to your mother again?” Martha asks gently as we walk across the quad.

I let out a harsh laugh. “Oh yeah, because that went so well the first ten thousand times. ‘This is for your own good, Sara. Lorenzo comes from a good family. You’re lucky to have landed such a successful husband.’ Ugh.”

I kick angrily at a pebble on the path, sending it skittering into the grass. “They don’t care what I want. In their minds, I’m just Daddy’s little bargaining chip.”

Martha links her arm through mine and gives it a comforting squeeze. “I’m sorry, hon. You deserve so much better than this.”

I sigh, my frustration melting into resignation. “It’s fine.” I try to sound nonchalant, but my voice wavers a little. The truth is, I’m terrified about marrying Lorenzo, but I don’t have a choice.

We reach the edge of campus where Martha’s shiny blue Prius is parked at the curb. She pops the trunk and she loads her backpacks inside.

“Call me later if you need to talk,” she says. “I can come over and we can drown your sorrows in ice cream.”

“It’s a deal.” I manage a small smile. Martha always knows how to lift my spirits, even if just for a moment.

We hug goodbye and she climbs into her car. I wave as she pulls away from the curb, the late afternoon sun glinting off her windshield. Then I start the walking back to my dorm.

I think about my situation and a small, defiant voice in my head whispers, what if you didn’t have to go through with it? What if you could find a way out of this nightmare?

I quickly silence it. There’s no way out. I just have to accept my fate. Dad would never allow me to back out now.

I take the long way back to the students’ dormitory, deliberately avoiding the Phi Kappa Sigma fraternity house where Dimitri and his band of merry boys live. Since day one he has been overly interested in me, but I have avoided him as much as possible.

It’s been a month since I last walked these paths, a month spent in a whirlwind of parties and forced smiles. Now, as I return, I can’t help but feel a sense of unease even though I haven’t caught sight of Dimitri or his lackeys lurking around corners. They usually just hurl taunts and leers in my direction, while he watches me silently from afar.

For a moment, I wonder if they have turned their attention elsewhere during my absence. Maybe they found some other poor girl to harass. The thought brings both relief and worry. Relief that I might be free from their harassment but worry for whoever might be enduring it now.

Everyone on campus knows to steer clear of Dimitri and his band at the Phi Kappa Sigma house. He’s got the whole lot of them wrapped around his little finger. They follow him around like obedient dogs, eager to please their master. Even his cousin Ivan, who by all accounts seems like a decent guy when he’s not by Dimitri’s side.

Whenever Dimitri and his lackeys go out, trouble follows. Loud parties that last all night, drinks spilled, girls being harassed and grabbed against their will. The authorities turn a blind eye since Dimitri’s family pumps tons of money into the university. It’s like he’s untouchable.

My phone buzzes in my pocket as I stroll down a tree-lined path, dappled afternoon sunlight filtering through the leaves. I don’t even need to check the screen to know it’s Lorenzo. Again. That’s the tenth call I’ve ignored today. I’m sure he’s fuming that I won’t pick up. Tough luck. I’m not in the mood to hear him drone on about his golf game or stocks or whatever else rich old men talk about.

The phone finally goes silent. But a few seconds later, it starts buzzing with a barrage of texts. I don’t read them, but I’m sure they’re full of passive aggressive jabs about me being an ungrateful fiancée. Lorenzo hates when I don’t answer his calls and texts immediately. He sees it as a challenge to his authority over me.

My thumb hovers over the power button, tempted to just turn the stupid phone off. But I know he’ll only punish me worse later if I do. With a resigned sigh, I slide the phone back into my pocket, letting it buzz unanswered against my leg.

Only three more months until I’m shackled for life to that arrogant, patronizing tyrant. Dad couldn’t have picked a more odious man for me to marry if he had tried. I bet Lorenzo gets some sick satisfaction out of controlling me, being able to lord his money and power over his new child bride. Just thinking about it makes my skin crawl.

Sometimes I fantasize about making a break for it. Hopping on a bus bound for anywhere and leaving this mess behind. But my father would hunt me down in a heartbeat. His precious business merger with Lorenzo’s family depends on me going through with this sham of a marriage. And Dad always gets what he wants, no matter who has to suffer.

A wave of unease creeps up my spine as I turn the corner onto a quieter street. The buzz from my phone has died down, and the sudden silence feels heavy, suffocating. I pick up my pace and the click of my heels against the pavement echoes the fact that I’m alone.

I’m halfway down the block when an unmistakable sound of footsteps falls into sync with my own. My heart races; I tell myself it’s just another student heading home, but a chill tells me otherwise. Before I can glance over my shoulder, a rough hand clamps over my mouth, cutting off my startled cry.

Panic surges through me as I’m yanked backward into an alleyway. The smell of cigarettes and leather invades my senses. I thrash against the iron grip, but it’s futile. My muffled screams go unheard as more hands join the first, dragging me deeper into the shadows.

“Let me go!” I manage to shout once they release their hold on my mouth. My words echo off the brick walls, sounding small and helpless, even to my own ears.

Boris looms over me, his face an impassive mask. Lev’s cold grip tightens on my arm, his fingers digging in like steel bands. Andrei and Mikhail flank him, silent sentinels blocking any hope of escape.

“What do you want from me?” I demand, voice shaking despite my attempt at bravado.

Boris just smirks and shakes his head slowly. Lev’s response is a low chuckle that sets my nerves on edge.

“Keep quiet if you know what’s good for you,” Andrei says with a sneer. His threat sends shivers down my spine.

I kick out at Mikhail, hoping to break free, but he easily dodges and grabs both of my wrists in one of his massive hands.

“You’re making this harder than it needs to be,” he growls.

“Where are you taking me?” I try to keep the fear out of my voice, but it quivers uncontrollably.

They don’t answer. Instead, they hustle me toward a black SUV parked at the mouth of the alley. Panic bubbles up inside me like boiling water about to overflow. This can’t be happening.

I open my mouth to scream again when Boris clamps his hand back over it. “Not a sound,” he hisses in my ear.

The threat in his voice is unmistakable; any further resistance will be met with violence.

My mind races with images of what Dimitri might do if I anger his men any further.

As we reach the SUV, they shove me inside and slam the door shut behind me. The vehicle peels away from the curb before I can even attempt to get my bearings.

They take everything from me—my phone, my purse.

When we finally stop, I recognize the Phi Kappa Sigma fraternity house looming before us like some twisted fortress. The place where Dimitri holds court with his loyal subjects—his enforcers who are now my captors.

They drag me from the car and up the steps to the front door. My heart is racing so fast it feels like it might burst through my chest. I scan the street for anyone who might help me but it is deserted—everyone else is likely to be enjoying their Friday evening oblivious to what’s happening here.

“Please,” I whisper as Boris tightens his hold on my hand “just tell me why.”

His only response is a grunt as he pushes me forward into Andrei’s waiting arms. Mikhail opens the door and they haul me inside.

The house is dimly lit and eerily silent—which is quite strange since it’s usually raucous during parties. They march me down a hallway lined with doors until we reach one at the far end.

As they open it and push me inside, every fiber of my being screams that this is wrong—that something terrible awaits me beyond that threshold.

“Please don’t do this,” I beg them one last time as they force me into the room and close the door behind them, leaving no doubt that escape isn’t an option.

Boris’s hands clamp down on my shoulders, pushing me into a chair with a force that leaves no room for resistance. The rope scrapes against my wrists, growing tighter with each pull from Andrei. He fastens a gag around my mouth, silencing my protests. I twist against the bindings, my muscles burning with the effort but it’s no use. The ropes are unyielding, biting into my skin.

Lev and Mikhail share a knowing look before they leave the room, their footsteps a fading echo on the cold, hard floor.

In a sudden surge of defiance, I jerk my head forward, connecting sharply with Boris’s jaw. A grunt escapes him, more from surprise than pain. He stumbles back, his eyes narrowing into dangerous slits. I brace myself for his retaliation.

“Ty smelaya,” he mutters under his breath. You’re brave. I understand a bit of Russian because my father forced me to learn it. He said it was important to understand our rivals’ language, for respect and caution. So, while I can’t speak it, I can grasp some of what Boris says.

Then, without warning, his hand strikes across my face. The slap stings, making my eyes tear, blurring my vision. I refuse to give him the satisfaction of seeing me cry. I hold his gaze, unflinching, even as my cheek throbs with pain.

That’s when Dimitri walks in. He’s with Ivan, his cousin and right-hand man.

He stands in the doorway, a dark silhouette against the dim light.

When he walks in, his presence fills the room, commanding and chilling. Dimitri, with his cold, calculating eyes and a demeanor that spells danger. Yet, there’s an undeniable charm about him, a magnetism that draws you in, despite your better judgment. If only he weren’t so ruthless, I find myself thinking. Under different circumstances, maybe…

But no, that’s not a road I can afford to go down. Not with everything at stake, not with my heart caged in fear and loathing. Dimitri’s gaze meets mine, and for a fleeting second, I see a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. Then it’s gone, masked by the familiar icy indifference.

“What do we have here?” he says, his voice resounding with a smooth, dangerous lilt that sends a shiver down my spine. He steps closer, and I can’t help but notice the way his shirt clings to his lean, muscular frame.

I try to steady my breathing, to maintain some semblance of control in this helpless situation. Dimitri is the predator, and I the unwilling prey, caught in a game that I never wanted to play.

His eyes, dark and inscrutable, fix on mine, holding me captive in a way the ropes never could.

Then, without a word, he leans down and his lips meet mine. It’s a kiss that’s not a kiss, devoid of tenderness, a show of power, a claim. I’m frozen, shocked by the audacity, the brazen violation of my space. His lips are firm, unyielding, and I’m too stunned to respond. When he pulls back, it’s with the faintest smirk, as if he’s just won a round in a game only he’s playing.

Dimitri turns sharply to Boris, his features set in a hard line. They lock eyes, and Dimitri’s voice drops to a dangerous growl, the words coming fast and furious.

“Yesli ty yeshche raz udarish’ yeye, ya otorvu tebe golovu,” Dimitri hisses, the threat in his voice icy and lethal. If you hit her again, I’ll rip your head off. I catch the meaning of his words, just enough to grasp Dimitri’s deadly warning.

Boris recoils slightly, the fear in his eyes betraying his usually stoic facade. He nods quickly.

Just then, my phone starts ringing. Dimitri’s eyes flicker to me, a mischievous glint appearing in them. He reaches over and snatches my phone from the table. “Looks like Lorenzo’s calling,” he says with a teasing tone. He holds the phone out, looking at me with a challenging smirk. “Should I answer it? Let him hear all the terrible things I could do to you?”.

Another phone erupts into a shrill ring at that moment, slicing through the tense air. Ivan walks up to Dimitri and gives him the ringing phone.

“It’s your brother.”

Dimitri snatches it and his eyes narrow before he strides out. His scowl deepens with every step. Ivan walks out behind him. The door slams shut behind them.

Mikhail and Lev reenter the room, their eyes flicking over me with a mix of curiosity and malice. Boris, still nursing his jaw, sneers in my direction. “Dimitri’s got his claws out for this bitch,” he mutters, a venomous edge to his voice. “Thinks she’s something special.”

Mikhail smirks, a cruel glint in his eye. “Well Dimitri’s not here to play the hero now.” His words hang heavy, ripe with implication.

Andrei’s laugh, dark and wicked, sends a shiver down my spine. He moves towards me, and his rough hands shove the gag back into my mouth, stifling any protest. I try to scream, but it’s muffled, and it’s useless.

Then Boris’s hand connects with my face again, a sharp sting spreading across my cheek. My vision blurs, as tears well up. My shirt strains against the force, and one of my buttons pops loose.

Lev’s eyes light up with a predatory hunger. He reaches out, and his cold and unwelcome fingers touch my skin. “Soft,” he murmurs, almost to himself, before his hand traces my chest to my breast and he fondles me roughly. I twist away, repulsed, but the ropes hold me tight. God, please no, I scream in my head.

Boris grips my hair, yanking my head back with brute force. Lev and Andrei join in, touching me anywhere their hands can reach. I feel degraded and repulsed by every touch.

The room spins, I’ve never felt so much fear and desperation in my life. I can’t fight them off no matter how much I try. The realization sinks in like a stone in my stomach. This is happening, and I’m powerless to stop it.

Suddenly, the door swings open, and Dimitri strides back in. His eyes take in the scene, and a shiver slices down my spine at the cold fury building in his gaze.

“Chto, chert voz’mi, vy tut delayete?” he spits out. “What the fuck are you doing?”

Chapter 2

Dimitri

I storm into the dimly lit room, my eyes burning with a rage I haven’t felt in years. Watching them touch Sara makes all the warning signs blink red. No one is allowed to touch Sara. No one is allowed to fucking touch my woman. She’s mine, and no one else’s. The stench of fear and sweat hangs heavy in the air. Lev, Boris, Mikhail, and Andrei freeze, their smirks fading as they catch sight of me. I lock eyes with Boris. My fists clench. “I thought I warned you,” I say, my voice low, each word punctuated with a step forward.

Boris tries to speak, but I’m on him before he can form a word. My fist connects with his jaw, a sharp crack in the heavy air. “Not,” I say, hitting him again, “to touch,” another hit, “her.”

Blood bursts from his nose and streaks down his face. I don’t stop. My fist slams into his cheek, and there’s a sickening crunch. Blood now pours from a split lip, mingling with the red from his nose. His eyes are wild with pain and fear.

Boris stumbles back, trying to shield his face, but I’m relentless. Another blow sends his front teeth flying.

His knees buckle, and he falls, a heap on the ground. Blood pools around him, his breath ragged and wet. The others watch, horror-stricken, but none of them dare intervene.

Then I turn to them. “You think you’re safe?” I growl. I launch at Lev, my anger a physical force. I hit him square in the stomach, and he doubles over. Mikhail and Andrei try to step in, but they’re no match for my fury. I strike fast, hard. Mikhail goes down with a blow to the temple. Andrei gets a fist in the ribs. They’re all on the ground now, groaning, bleeding.

In this world, mercy is a luxury I can’t afford. Not when it comes to what’s mine.

“Get out,” I snarl. They scramble to their feet, dragging Boris with them, his limp body draped over their shoulders, and hurry out of the room. The door slams shut behind them, leaving me alone with Sara.

Her eyes are wide with terror, her lips parted in a silent scream. She dares not make a sound. I look at her, my heart pounding in my chest. I lost control, and I know I must regain it.

“Don’t move,” I order, my voice barely above a whisper. I see the fear in her eyes, but she doesn’t defy me. I approach her, my hands trembling slightly. I reach out and grip her chin, my fingers tightening as I force her to look at me.

“You’re mine, Sara,” I hiss. “Do you understand?”

She stares up at me, her eyes filled with hatred. “You have no right,” she spits, once I remove the gag her voice barely audible.

I feel a surge of anger at her defiance, but I force myself to remain calm. “You’re right,” I say, my voice low and dangerous. “I don’t have the right. But you’re still mine, and that’s all that matters.” My gaze drops to her hand, to the engagement ring and the sight of it ignites a deeper anger in me. Fuck! I have an overwhelming urge to yank it off her finger and throw it away, to erase any claim anyone else has on her. But I restrain myself.

I shrug off my leather jacket and drape it around her trembling form, shielding her from the cold night air. Then, I pick her up in my arms, cradling her close to my chest, inhaling her intoxicating scent. I can feel her heart beating against my chest, a fragile rhythm that echoes the chaos of my own.

As I carry her to my car, I feel the soft brush of her cheek against my neck, a contact that sends a wave of desire crashing through my body. I smile to myself, a cruel twist of my lips.

***

I grip the steering wheel tightly, my knuckles turning white, as I navigate the winding roads leading to Sara’s dorm. I glance at Sara beside me, her face is pale and drawn in the faint moonlight filtering through the car windows. She’s still trembling, even though her eyes are determined.

As I pull up in front of her dorm, the engine idles loudly in the quiet night for a few seconds before I step out and then open the door on Sara’s side. My heart is pounding as I move to help her.

“I can walk,” Sara protests trying to push herself up.

Ignoring her, I say firmly, “You’re not in any state to walk. I’m responsible for what happened back there. I’ll take care of you now, so don’t argue.”

With that, I lift her gently, despite her feeble attempts to resist. The night air is cool and crisp, but I’m sweating profusely. My muscles are aching from the exertion of the fight, and my head throbs from the adrenaline rush. But all I can focus on is the softness of her body in my arms.

I reach her room without encountering anyone on the way, and fumble with the doorknob. The door swings open, and I step inside, carrying Sara over the threshold. The room is dark and quiet, the only sound is Sara’s soft sobs. I kick the door shut behind me, the heavy thud echoing in the silence.

I try to drop her on the bed, but she clutches me tightly, her arms wrapping around my neck, her fingers digging into my shoulders. A whimper escapes her lips, soft and pleading, and it sets my blood on fire.

“Fuck” I curse under my breath, a low growl rumbling in my chest. She still has that effect on me, even now, when she’s terrified and vulnerable. I lay her down on the bed, her body still trembling, her eyes wide and fearful. “Don’t tempt me, printsessa.”

I pull the covers up over her, tucking her in gently, as if she were a fragile doll. I can’t help but notice how small she is, how delicate. Her curves are soft and inviting beneath the thin fabric of her dress, and I feel a surge of desire that I can barely control.

I step back, putting some distance between us, but I can’t take my eyes off her. Her chest rises and falls with each shallow breath, and her lips slightly parted.

I reach out and brush a strand of hair away from her face, my fingers lingering on her soft cheek. Her skin is cool and smooth beneath my touch, and I can’t resist the urge to lean in and kiss her.

Her lips are soft and I groan against her mouth as my tongue slips past her teeth to explore the sweet depths of her mouth. She tastes like innocence and fear, a heady combination that drives me wild.

As I deepen the kiss, I feel her body tense beneath me. For a moment, I think she might push me away, but instead, she surprises me by trying to bite my lower lip. I pull back slightly, a smirk playing on my lips as I look down at her. Her eyes are blazing with defiance, and I can’t help but be impressed by her fiery spirit.

“Feisty,” I murmur, pulling and sucking the broken skin into my mouth. Her blazing defiance only sets my body more on fire. I can’t believe I let myself lose control like that. I’m Dimitri Morozov, for fuck’s sake. I’m not some lovesick fool. I’m a man of power, a man of action. I don’t let my emotions get the better of me.

But Sara… she’s different. She’s gotten under my skin in a way no other woman has. I can’t deny the attraction I feel towards her, the way her scent intoxicates me, the way her body fits perfectly against mine. But I should not let her get to me. Her engagement to Lorenzo is a strategic move, a way to solidify the alliance between the two powerful mafia families. I know that if I give in to my desires, I could put everything at risk. I can’t let my feelings for her compromise my family’s position.

It’s not just her family that puts her off-limits. Mine is just as dangerous, just as ruthless. I know that if her family found out about an affair, they would see it as a betrayal. And the consequences would be dire, for both Sara and me.

I can’t help but feel a deep resentment towards her and her privileged upbringing. She’s a Mafia princess, raised in a world of luxury and power. I’ve spent my whole life fighting tooth and nail for everything I have, for my father to approve of me. I can’t help but see her as a symbol of everything I hate about this world.

“I should go,” I say, taking a step back. “I’ll see you in class.”

“Wait, Dimitri,” she says, her eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that’s hard to ignore. “I… I… thank you for rescuing me back there.”

Her words hang between us as I turn and walk out of her dorm room, slamming the door shut behind me. I take a deep breath of cool night air, trying to calm my racing heart.

I slide into the driver’s seat of my car, my body still tense with desire. I can’t get the image of Sara out of my head. The way she looked at me with those wide, fearful eyes. The way her body trembled in my arms. The way her lips felt against mine. I groan and lean back in my seat, my hand instinctively moving to my crotch. I’m still hard, my cock straining against the fabric of my pants. I can’t help myself. I unzip my pants and pull out my cock, my hand wrapping around it tightly. I close my eyes and imagine Sara’s lips wrapped around me, her tongue flicking against the sensitive head. I stroke myself slowly, my breath coming in short, sharp gasps. I can feel the pressure building in my balls, the tension coiling in my lower back. I grip the steering wheel with my free hand, my knuckles turning white. I can’t believe I’m doing this. I’m Dimitri Morozov, for fuck’s sake. I don’t jerk off in my car like some horny teenager. But I can’t help it. Sara has an effect on me that no other woman has. I can’t get her out of my head. I stroke myself faster, my hand moving in a steady rhythm. I can feel myself getting closer, the pressure building to a fever pitch. I bite my lip to keep from moaning out loud.

My body tenses with anticipation. And then, with a final, desperate stroke, I come. My body shudders with the force of my orgasm, my cock pulsing in my hand. I lean back in my seat, my breath coming in ragged gasps. I quickly clean myself up with some wipes I keep in my glove compartment, then zip up my pants. I take a deep breath and start the car.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, jolting me out of my thoughts. I pull it out and see Ivan’s name flashing on the screen. I answer with a gruff “What?”

“Hey, cuz,” Ivan growls. “How’s Sara?”

“I think she’s ok,” I say, my voice tight. “I’m going to fucking kill them all.”