♥ Chapter 49♥

Alessio Vecchio...

Thursday.

Two days later.

I never thought I would miss someone, especially not me. Isabella manages to make me feel things I’ve never felt before. Having her as my queen was the perfect choice. We haven’t seen each other since yesterday morning; we’ve only talked through messages or calls. I understand that she wants to keep working, but if it were up to me, she wouldn’t be working at all; she would be in my bed, being taken care of by me. I haven't slept since yesterday, as I’ve been busy solving many things. But I’m looking forward to Saturday, to having her all to myself, to feeling her sweet scent, to holding her in my arms.

I wonder what this feeling is. Is it love? Love, such a simple and small word, but I know the feelings that come with it are powerful, making us strong enough to protect those we love. I still don’t fully understand these feelings, but I believe I will soon.

I still remember holding her in my arms, her sweet scent, her beautiful curves, her lovely hair, her pure and innocent look. I really must be crazy; I’m completely obsessed with a twenty-year-old girl. Unfortunately or fortunately, she had the bad luck of being found by me, and now she’s mine alone.

When I think of her, I feel a mix of possession and adoration that consumes me. Isabella brought an unexpected light into my life, a softness I didn’t know I needed. Every moment we spend together is etched in my mind with almost painful clarity. The touch of her skin, the sweetness of her smile, the way she fits perfectly in my arms.

Watching her face while she sleeps, seeing the way she writhes in pleasure when we’re together… These moments feed me, giving me strength to face any challenge that comes my way. And I know I would do anything to protect her, to ensure that nothing and no one takes her away from me.

The obsession I feel for Isabella transcends simple passion. It’s a primal force, an insatiable hunger that consumes me every second. I want her in every possible way: in my bed, in my life, under my control. She is my light, but she is also my addiction, and there are no limits to what I would do to keep her under my control.

As I look at the road through the car window, my mind travels back to the last time I held her in my arms. Her body, so perfect and vulnerable, responding to my touch with total surrender. Isabella is not just a woman; she is the embodiment of my deepest desires. And anyone who dares to interfere with that will find out in the most painful way possible what it means to cross my path.

"My lord?... Sir?" Dante's voice pulls me back to reality.

I look at him through the rearview mirror, my expression hardened.

"Speak, Dante." I cross my legs, trying to relax a bit, but the irritation is palpable.

"I wanted to inform you that Mr. Christopher from the American mafia sent us some women as a thank you for the new drugs we sent. Even though he already paid us, he said the drugs are so good that he sent more thanks." He barely finishes speaking, and I'm already sighing in frustration.

"He only sends useless things; he could have sent weapons or even more money. But he sends a bunch of women." I run a hand over my face, exhausted from having to deal with this mediocrity. "Just send them to the brothels." I order, without a hint of compassion.

"Yes, my lord." Dante responds promptly.

My mind returns to Isabella. The world I live in is dark and cruel, and she is the only pure thing I have left. But that purity is mine to corrupt, mine to mold. Every moment without her is torment, an agony that can only be alleviated by her touch, her scent, her total submission to me.

I let out a sigh, trying to organize my thoughts. I am going crazy, increasingly insane, and maybe it's the lack of sleep. But deep down, I know these are my true feelings. I am completely obsessed with her, to the point of losing my mind. But there's no time for introspection now; I have work to do.

17:50 "Warehouse" Portevecchio

"We've arrived, my lord." Dante says, parking the car.

Cezar, who was outside, opens the door for me.

"Welcome, my lord." He says, with his usual deference.

I step out of the car and observe the warehouse in front of me. Today, I came to check on the production of the new weapons. Violence is a constant in my world, and I need to ensure my resources are up to the threats we face. The air around the warehouse smells of oil and metal, a constant reminder of the invisible war we fight daily.