48 Hours
Autorzy
Natalia Ava
Lektury
188K
Rozdziały
23
Betrayal is an ugly thing and can lead to a person becoming more heartless if they were not so before. Martina Lorenzo, daughter of the late Angelou Lorenzo, took over her father’s mafia at the age of just 18. Nine years later, she is not only very successful but the most feared of all, known as the ‘She-devil’. She is ruthless, cold and carries hatred in her heart. What could possibly go wrong when she imprisons a handsome rival and gives him 48 to live? How much will Alessio Romano change her feelings? Will she find the truth about the one thing that she fears the most?
Age Rating: 18+
Chapter 1
ALEXANDER
7 YEARS AGO
As I take a step into the cafe, my eyes set on the most beautiful girl in the cafe. She is sipping her cappuccino just like everyone else, her eyes glued to a book, immersed in a novel she is reading.
I take in a deep breath as I stand in the line and wait for my turn, but my eyes remain locked on the brunette only a few feet away. I keep an eye out to see if she is waiting for anyone.
My turn arrives, and I order a black coffee that gets prepared in a few seconds. I thank the cashier and casually make my way towards her.
“Lovely day, isn’t it?” I say when our eyes meet.
Her doe brown eyes meet mine, and I feel my insides tingle. I could get lost in those brown eyes. A sea of darkness, I would describe it if they were blue…but the depth of the ocean is as black as night. Her eyes are the depth of the ocean.
“It is,” she says with a small smile.
“Are you waiting for anyone?” I ask, tapping the chair in front of hers.
“Not really, but you know what they say about strangers.” She places her cup down and leans in with her elbows on the table.
She is wearing a black sweater that slipped off her shoulder, matching them with silver bangles in her pierced ears. One purple gemstone sat on her helix, and its shine was a sparkle this dark world needed. Black-framed glasses sit on the bridge of her nose. She closes the book she was reading, and the cover shows a shirtless man with a woman in a satin black dress resting on him.
“You into romance, I see.” I gesture for her book with a nudge of my nose.
“You are not giving up. Are you?” She sighs and motions with her hand for me to take a seat.
I take the seat, making sure not to drag the chair to the ground. That sound will forever be worse than a bullet or the screams of torturing a soul.
“I am Alexander, Alex for short. And you are?” I ask while taking my first sip of coffee. Hot and burns my throat, just as I like it.
“Tia.” She responds softly with a small smile again. My eyes fall to her naturally plumped lips, and they linger there for a few more seconds before looking into her eyes again.
“You are not from around here. Swedish?” Tia asks me with her head tilting to the side.
“German, actually,” I respond with a chuckle. My hands curl around my hot cup, and her eyes glance at them for a moment, then do the same as I did a few moments ago, looking into my eyes.
“Ah, I see. What brings you here?” She wrapped her delicate fingers around her cup, mirroring my movements. My eyes fall to her dainty small fingers, and rings sit on each finger.
Giving me dark girl vibes. Morally gray, they call it?
“Business does.” I give her a wink.
Tia rolls her eyes. The more I look at her, the more I notice. Her eyes are big, and her lashes curl upwards and black as the night.
“You are Italian?” I ask.
“No, I am from Mars.” She snorts and drinks her coffee.
“You make jokes like that all the time, liebe?”
“Depending on who I am talking to.” Her energy suddenly changes, and her body tenses up.
As if her aura knew before her eyes, a tall man, dark, just like her, approaches her from behind.
“What are you doing on my side of town?” he asks her with his features dark as his aura.
The man was as broad as I was, and he carried that Alpha blood inside and outside of him. I knew who he was.
“Can’t a girl grab some coffee?” Tia says to him, taking a deep breath..
His eyes divert to me.
“Vogel? What the fuck are you doing here? It was made clear to you and your family to never come near this area. Let alone Italy.” He yells at me with some discretion. To avoid the eyes of people.
“Romano, lovely seeing you as well,” I say with an eye roll.
“This is what you are doing now, Lorenzo? Making friends with Germans? I thought your father taught you well.” Alessio tells her.
“You shut your mouth up, Alessio. Do not ever bring my father into anything you disagree with. I did not even plan to meet with him. Wait, you are Alexander Vogel?” She turns to me with a frown.
“Yes, I am.” I give her a nod.
Alessio bends down and whispers something in her ear.
“I will never ever need the Romanos in my life,” is her response to him, and he shrugs and walks away like he never appeared. Heading over to get himself the coffee he does not deserve.
She now looks irritated and hurt at the same time.
“Lorenzo, do you want to go somewhere else?” I offer.
“Do not use my name like that in this area. You do not know who could be lurking.” She stands up and heads for the cafe door.
I follow behind her as she stomps away. I wanted to catch up with this woman whom I had not really heard of before. I knew of the Lorenzo’s but did not know that there was a daughter.
“Get lost, Vogel. I will never associate with you.” She turns to me with her eyes blazing with flames.
I halt in my steps and watch her as she gets into her car with two other men and drives away.
Who are you, Tia Lorenzo?.
I’m Alexander Vogel. I get what I want in the end.
And I want her.
ONE MONTH LATER
An entire month of waiting and convincing. I went back and forth with Martina Lorenzo to finally go out on a date with me. I decided to be cheesy and ask her out on Valentine, making it my last attempt with Ms. Perfect here.
I am finally here, standing in front of her doorstep. With a bouquet of red roses and a card that says, “Will you be my Valentine and more?”
Who would have known she would actually be this difficult? She is stubborn, and very hard to get her to open up. But I am hoping that she will come to her senses and maybe one day marry me.
Martina opens the door, and she comes out in a dark, tight red dress. A slit from her hip to the end of the dress. Her curves are hugged flawlessly by the dress, making her skin glow. Her hair flows down her shoulder in thick and luscious waves.
The sight of her makes every ounce of blood rush downwards.
“Wow,” is all that comes out of me. A beauty loving the beast inside of me.
“Roses? Red ones, too? They are overrated, Alexander. For the future, white ones are better.” She gives me a sweet smile as she takes them from my arms and sniffs them anyway. Watching her as her cheeks develop a tint of blush.
Maybe this was the first time someone was doing something for her.
“And a card too? You must be desperate.” Martina laughs and opens the card, muttering the last part under her breath.
“Hmm, I will think about it. If you impress me today, I might just consider not killing you.” She palms me lightly, which makes me groan. She already saw how hard I was for her just by looking at her.
“Tia, do not tease me. You have already seen what my fingers did to you just a few days ago.” I practically growl but still feel so much love for this woman. Out of nowhere, the universe made me love her.
“Oh, I know what your fingers are capable of. It is if you can keep up with my libido.” She laughs and links her arms with mine after I offer it.
We walk towards the horse carriage I have got us for the day. The horse’s name is Lola. A white horse with long hair.
“She is gorgeous!” Martina hands me the bouquet and starts petting the horse with lots of affection. Her eyes glow up as she the horse nuzzles her, and she giggles in response. Possibly the most carefree moment I have seen Martina in since we met.
“I knew you would love her.” I smile.
“What a man does to impress her just to have her.” She talks to the horse, but I know it is directed at me.
“We, men, do the impossible to have the woman we want.” I place the roses inside the carriage and stand next to Martina.
“I wonder if men stay like that for the entire time of the relationship,” she says as she starts to make her way to the seat.
“You implying you want to stay with me?”
“Depends.” She gives me a little wink, and I take a seat next to her.
I tap the driver’s shoulder so he can take us to the destination I have decided for today.
I look at Martina as she has her head turned, watching the scenery unfold in front of her.
The chubbiness of her cheeks shows with the smile she has on her face. Her lips are just perfect. Not too big and not too small. They are just right.
I could look at this woman inch by inch and not get enough of her. It has not been long since I have known her. But she has rubbed off on me. I want to be her king, and she my queen. I could say I love her even.
But that would make her my biggest weakness in the Mafia world.
Lost in my thoughts, I do not notice Martina has laid her head on my shoulder, snuggling against me.
“I guess you are warming up to me then.” I chuckle, resting my head on top of hers.
“Maybe just a little bit.” Her response comes out softly and I smile like an idiot.
After many minutes of waiting to get to our destination, all a person could hear was the sound of the gallops of the horse and the wind.
I help Martina down when we arrive and keep my hand in hers as we enter the restaurant.
“Fancy place you chose,” she tells me.
“Fancy place for the fancy girl.” I give her a wink.
“Can you be any cringier, Alexander?” She scrunches her nose at my comment but laughs.
The waiter opens the door for us, and I place my hand on the curve of Martina’s back and let her go inside first. I bring my hand to her ass and give her a little squeeze.
“Thick.” I whisper into her ear as I take her to a table.
“Thank my genetics for that,” Martina says after taking a seat. She smiles, but it quickly fades, and then she smiles softly again.
“Thank you, Martina’s genetics. God bless you, ancestors.” I look up at the sky, gesture my hands in prayer form, and laugh when I do so.
She laughs too. Music to my ears.
The waiter comes by and hands us our menus, then tells us he will be back when we are ready.
“I will be having a medium-rare steak, Martina. What will you have?” I ask her.
“If you think I am taking a salad, you are dead wrong. Hmm, I want a chicken Caesar wrap, and on the side, I want a plate of fettuccine.”And some french fries. Please make sure they are salty.
I look at her, quite amused. Women tend to order salads on dates.
“What? Never seen a lady eat before?” She raises an eyebrow.
“Not really. The women I have gone out with before tend to eat nothing but a salad.”
“Well, I am not other women. I am Martina. I am me. I eat when I feel like it, and I do not when I do not feel like it. If a day I feel like having salad, I eat that. If I want to eat nothing but carbs to get these hips wider, I eat that too.”
The Martina attitude surfaced, and it somehow made me smile.
Maybe turned me on even.
“It is why you are a special woman.” I place my hand on top of hers and stroke it.
“Grazie.” She bats her eyelashes at me, and that makes me laugh. She is one sassy woman.
She is fun to be around. I love her energy. What man wouldn’t dream of that?
“Now, I do not feel like getting tipsy or drunk. Some tomato juice with Tabasco sauce shall suffice.” Martina says.
“Are you human?”
“No. I am the She-devil.”
I give her an eye roll that she does not notice and call the waiter over.
I tell him what I want, and she tells him what she wants.
“And what would you two like for dessert?” The waiter asks politely.
“I want a chocolate fountain with a big plate of all types of berries.” She smiles softly at him.
I bite my lip as I look at her and can only imagine what kind of dessert I want to be having.
He nods and leaves.
“Are you taking advantage of what I am paying?” I chuckle.
“Nope. I make twice as you. But I want to treat myself. You are free to not pay.” She leans back in her chair, giving me a small view of her cleavage.
“You take everything to heart,” I point out.
“I do. I prefer honesty over everything.”
“Then you want me to be honest and tell you I feel like fucking you right now?” I see her cheeks redden up a bit.
“Sure.” She rolls her eyes and takes a sip of water.
I call over the waiter, asking him how long the dinner preparation will take.
“About 30 minutes, Sir.” He responds with a bit of a sorry face on him.
“Oh, do not be sorry. I need to go do something. Thank you.” He leaves with another nod, and I look at Martina.
She looks up at me, and I put my hand out for her after straightening my suit jacket. Martina slowly places her hand in mine, slightly unsure..
“Want to go on a bathroom adventure with me?” I try to hold back my laugh.
“Adventures are my thing.” She responds and the fire in her eye is back.
We head over to the bathroom and quickly choose a stall, pushing her inside, closing the door, and pushing her against it.
My lips find hers, and I devour them, her moaning into my lips when I pinch a nipple that’s poking from her dress. I suck on her top lip, then the bottom one. I let my teeth graze her bottom lip and that sends a smile to her face.
“You like that?” I whisper while I kiss her neck.
“Mhm...”
I bite her lip again, only harder this time, and I can feel her physically and internally melt and buckle.
My fingers find the hem of her dress, and I start to pull it up to her waist. I graze her thighs, and when I reach her hip, I realize she is not wearing anything underneath.
“You naughty girl, you planned for this.” I breathe and cup her pussy.
“No, do I need to justify why I am not wearing a thong for you? I did not want to,” she says into my lips, and her fingers undo my belt.
I take my belt off while pressing myself against her.
“What are you doing?” she asks while I wrap the belt around her wrists.
“Stimulating pleasure,” I say after securing the belt around her wrists and slipping my pants down.
She looks over at the tint of my boxers and back into my eyes.
“Condom,” she says.
I find the pocket inside my jacket and get out the silver foiled packet. I tear the top off and slip my boxers down.
I roll the condom down my erection and let it poke her stomach.
I cannot read her facial expression well. She looks down between us as if contemplating if this is the right thing to do. I mean, we got playful a few times, but I haven’t yet felt her on the inside like I have wanted. But Martina deserves to get the pleasure she hasn’t had before.
There is just silence between us. Other than our deep breathing and practically hearing her wetness when my fingers touched her pussy, everything was silent.
I let my fingers continuously stroke her until she starts to buck her hips against me. I am a man who quickly cums. I do not want her to not feel satisfied.
I bring my wet fingers to her lips and smear her wetness there. Her face is flushed and I could not love it more. I lick her lips, wanting to taste both her lips and wetness at the same time.
“Beautiful,” I murmur and then start moving my dick against her wet folds, not entering her yet.
“Ugh, can you just go in,” she mumbles, pushing herself against me.
Hearing her say that, I bring both my palms to her ass and lift her up against the door.
I let the tip of my dick come in contact with her opening, and I slide in. She closes her eyes in response and wraps her legs around me.
I start to go in and out of her while rubbing her clit.
“Fuck, you feel so good. I have been trying to imagine what you feel like for the past month. God, you are perfect.” I keep the pace going and start to feel the strain in my back, waiting for my release.
I quicken my pace and quickly stroke her. That begins to let out moans from her.
“Uh, Alexander.” She presses herself harder against me.
“Don’t stop, keep rubbing me.”
So she is feeling more pleasure there?
I keep going until I cum and groan next to her.
“Happy fucking valentines,” I say, squishing my face into her breasts.
MARTINA
PRESENT - 7 YEARS LATER
At midnight, I stand outside on my balcony, inhaling that salty air. I wrap my fluffy robe a little tighter around me when I feel a breeze that sends a shiver down my spine.
The sound of crashing waves brings a little calmness to the chaos inside my head, a chaos so loud that nothing can possibly silence it. I close my eyes and count from ten to one until my nerves settle, only ever so slightly.
I see one of my guards walking down on the sand, making sure nobody unwanted walks the premises.
“It is a little late to be out here, boss.” Mahone, my bodyguard, comes from behind me and leans forward on the carved railing next to me. My heart slightly flutters at the care that he has always shown towards me.
“I told you, outside of office hours, it is ‘Martina’ for you.” I chuckle softly and tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. Maybe my heart is fluttering too much.~
“It is always office hours for me. I made it my priority to do so.” He looks over at me, and I can feel his small smile.
I met Mahone at a restaurant shooting. He was my waiter that night, seven years ago. I woke up in a hospital bed with him holding my hand. I made it my quest to make sure he was by my side at all times.
***
I sit by myself, sipping on a glass of champagne that I bought to celebrate the death of a relationship I thought I could possibly have with Alexander. First, the death of my parents and then the death of something that was meant to be something.
I sigh and look around me, and then my eyes land on a tall waiter who is waiting at another table in front of me. I bite my lip at his gorgeousness. Hair so dark slicked back, jawline so sharp, tall as the Eiffel Tower. He was handsome, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to make a move or not. Probably not. It’s not like I wanted a fuck simply to forget, it would be too temporary.
His eyes meet mine, and he gives me a smirk. He must have noticed the way my eyes looked at him.
The mysterious waiter takes a few steps back as he finalises the order with the table, and he comes to my table.
“Anything I can offer you for tonight, Madam?” His voice was deep like the color of his eyes.
“Anything to make a girl forget about the unfortunate events of her life?” I ask, tilting my head, and that makes him chuckle.
“Not really, unless you want to wait till the restaurant closes.” He asks with a raised eyebrow.
My eyes drop to the name tag on his chest, ‘Mahone’ and then back to his eyes.
“Mmm, maybe.”
He gives me a nod and leaves to finish the rest of his orders, and the restaurant starts to empty slowly. Until I felt a set of eyes burning through the back of my skull; seconds later, Mahone ran to me, and all I heard were gunshots, and then things went black.
The sound of beeping begins to bring me back to my senses after probably hours of being unconscious. A hand is holding mine tightly, and a head is resting on my thigh. My hand instantly goes to the person’s hair. It could be a murderer, that’s for sure, but something made me want to caress that hair. His head instantly goes up, and his eyes lock with mine.
Mahone.
”I thought you would never wake up. Your shoulder was shot, and you were hit at the back of the head. Someone was targeting you. You had to go through surgery for the bullet to be removed.”
Mahone rambles on quickly, his hand never once leaving mine.
Since then, he has been.
“If you were not there, you would not be here, and you would have a normal job,” I tell him, turning my body to face him.
“It is our choice how we want things to happen. You chose this path, and I happened to choose it too,” Mahone responds.
“Cannot believe you have still stuck around after all this time.”
“What is really going on? You have that look in your eyes,” Mahone asks.
“The day like today, seven years ago, I dumped Alexander. Ask me again what we told the world instead of the truth.” I slump down on my outdoor sofa and grab the glass of cranberry in front of me.
Mahone looks at me, waiting to continue.
“I said, ‘Our families refuse to join together, and I cannot carry an heir to your family. You are not Italian, remember that. Sharing power would be a problem.’ But what was the real truth?
He cheated on me. In broad daylight. Bastard did not even think of cheating in a bedroom. On the beach. My beach! I shot that bimbo afterward.” I am fuming even after all these years.
Every time I had to shoot someone, I would just need to imagine his face in front of me, and I would have no remorse towards the other person. Every time I decide to hurt someone, I would just need to imagine him.
Alexander. The German bastard.
Suddenly, I feel Mahone take the glass away from me.
“You’re going to break it between your hands,” he says softly.
I rub my temples and sigh.
“Why haven’t you been seeing anyone for the past years?” Mahone asks me quietly.
“To what? Put them into my life? Then they leave because they cannot handle a proper woman? Leave because they find out there is just too much danger and completely disregard my feelings? I am a woman without a family.”
My voice cracks in the end, and I clear my throat to cover it up.
But Mahone knows better.
He sits next to me and pulls me to his side, letting me sink into his warmth.
“Let it out if you need to. It doesn’t matter how old you are,” he whispers into my hair.
Twenty-seven years old. That’s how old I am.
I sniffle.
“Maybe it is just hormones taking over right now.” I chuckle sadly, knowing that it isn’t the case.
He doesn’t say anything, and I feel him run his fingers through my hair.
Mahone suddenly lets me go, leaving me confused as he stands up.
He slides his jacket off, comes back to the couch, and lays down, putting a pillow under his head.
“Lie with me. Let us watch the stars.” He says softly, putting a hand in front of me.
I put my hand gently in his, then rest my head on his chest and a leg over his crotch.
Mahone was such a comfortable place for me always has been for a long while now.
“Have you ever wondered why I was a waitress at the age of 30?” He asked out of the blue.
“Of course I knew why. I ran a background check on you after the hospital.” I chuckle.
“Yeah, well, I was fired from that company because I punched a guy for harassing a woman.” His fingers go to my hair, and he starts running his fingers through it.
“That is how messed up our world is, Mahone.”
“How many people do you trust here?”
“Depends on where that person’s status is in my mind. I do trust you the most. I wouldn’t have you here if I didn’t.” I look up at him and see that stubble on his chin.
Without thinking, my fingers reach for it, and I start grazing it. Mahone doesn’t say anything but tilts his head ever so slightly and studies my face.
“This is wrong,” I whisper, and now my thumb starts caressing his bottom lip.
“But it feels right for you, doesn’t it?” he whispers back.
My eyes fall down to his lips, and I see him part them slightly.
“I do not want to do this to you.” I continue whispering, and I feel my lips getting closer to his.
“I want you to do this to me. If it helps you forget.” His lips are only mere inches away from mine.
“I cannot hurt you. You will hate me forever.”
“Maybe a one-time thing doesn’t hurt.”
“What if it kills you?”
“Die knowing I am protecting a beauty with a heart?” His lips started brushing mine.
“I do not have a heart, you know that.” I press my lips to his and I hear him sigh, as if he was waiting for this moment all his life.
He sucks on my bottom lip, turning us over to hover over me. His hand gently strokes my collarbone and starts pushing the fabric of my robe off my shoulders.
The moment is cut short when I hear Matteo barge in, the only other guard allowed indoors with me at night. Yes, I also know my men from their footsteps.
Mahone froze, and I heard him swallow.
“Boss, we got a problem up front.” Matteo clears his throat and my eyes widen.
Mahone quickly gets off me, and I see him adjust his pants.
“Where is my gun?” I quickly start walking inside my house, tieing my hair into a bun and discarding my robe, leaving me in my shorts and crop top that I sleep in.
“Did you get a name, Matteo?” I ask as Mahone hands me his spare gun.
“No, all he said was he personally knew you and had to speak to you. His face was covered, and he seemed to be armed.”
I remove the safety of the gun and slip into my sneakers.
“Who is standing with him?”
“Carlos, boss.”
“No one knows me personally, and Vittoria would never come this late. Tell Paolo to meet us up front.” I’m stomping my way to the front door with both Mahone and Matteo by my side.
The sound of the gravel crunching underneath me was loud enough to wake me from my sleep if I was.
I reach the front gate, and I glare at whoever the figure is that is standing all in black.
“Who the fuck are you?” I point my gun at him.
~I wasn’t always civil, but everyone wanted a piece of my power. I could never be safe.
The figure turns around and smiles at me.~
“Been a long time, Martina.” I snarl involuntarily at his voice.
He takes his mask off and looks at me.
“Go to hell, Alexander.” I knew better than to shoot him this very moment. I knew he wasn’t alone. He could be alone physically, but he has always kept a mic somewhere on him.
“Another chance, liebe. Bitte.” Suddenly, Alexander is on his knees.
“Per favore?! Per favore?! Tu es uno malato bastardo. Vaffanculo.” I glare at him, pointing the gun straight to his heart.~
“You wouldn’t kill me. You don’t have the guts to do so. If you did, you would have done that seven years ago, but you’re weak.” Without a second thought, I shoot his knee.
“The only reason you are alive is because of me. It’s so they do not come after me. ”
He is still on the ground, groaning from pain. I shoot another bullet through his thigh.
“Un uomo innamorato, non tradirebbe mai.” I poke his body with the tip of my shoe.
~“Take him to the hospital, Carlos,” I order. “What do I exactly say?” He looks at me nervously.
I look around me for a moment and crouch down to Alexander’s level, who’s still whimpering and groaning.~
How is this man a boss again?
“Buona notte.”
Using the back of the gun, I slam the side of his head with it. Making him fall unconscious.
“Give me your shirt, Carlos.” I look up at him.
Only been here a few months. A newbie. Still learning.
Poor child.
He takes off his shirt and hands it to me. For a moment, I admire the tattooed snake on his chest. I dip parts of his shirt into the pool of blood and put some on my fingers, flicking some in random places.
Mahone and Matteo watch. They know better than to intervene. They know how much I calculate in my mind every consequence. They never intervene until I say so.
“There. Put it back on, Carlos. If someone asks, you say you got into a fight, and you were trying to fight off the man who was trying to kill this poor soul down here. Make it believable.” I smile up at him as I get up.
“Yes, ma’am.” Carlos nods and carries the half-lifeless body in his arms, putting him in his car.
“Paolo, clean this up per favore.” I hand Mahone his gun back, and I walk back inside my house.
After reaching the bathroom, I run a bath to sink myself in for the next half hour of the night or what is left of it. I wash my hands first to get all of the blood off, and suddenly, I vomit into the sink.
“Martina?” Mahone asks, coming behind me. I wipe my mouth and lean on the counter.
“Do you want me to stay?” he asks after a few minutes of silence.
~I nod my head, and he starts slipping off the straps of my top and places a soft kiss on my neck.
Maybe a one-time thing doesn’t hurt too much.~
This isn’t about loving my bodyguard. It’s about being in pain and in need of healing.
This is the story of me. Martina Lorenzo.
