The Don's Untouched Plaything (1)

I am the sheltered only daughter of the rival cartel boss who thought he could outsmart Don Luciano. One minute I was leaving my university library, the next a black bag was over my head and strong arms carried me into a waiting car. Now I lay on a massive bed in a windowless room that smelled of danger and looming chaos. My wrists were cuffed to the headboard with soft leather, my simple white blouse and skirt wrinkled from the struggle.

The door opened and Don Luciano stepped in like he owned the air itself. Tall, broad, late thirties, with sharp cheekbones and eyes...