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The Mafia Boss's Submissive

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Sullivan reclined in his round chair, watching the sensual stripper on the screen. Every provocative motion she made, her curves rippling seductively, caused his c*ck to swell. Ever since he became enraptured by her videos, she had haunted his thoughts, her bewitching presence leaving him yearning for more. Determined to satisfy his craving, he decided to buy her from whoever owned her. He had had enough of her videos, now was the time to carry out those wild fantasies he had always dreamt of her . "I'm not a possession that could be bought! Let me go or you face the wrath of New York officers!" Micah threatened as Sullivan finally chained her to the bars of the cage. Her body alone was driving him crazy and he couldn't help but take in a nipple of hers, she is his until he say no more. "Welcome to your new master, Micah." He purred, as he invaded her private part, his thrusts claiming her as his own. In his obsession, he neglected to learn of her history, her past, and her very existence as a person. Yet, fate had a bitter twist in store, a war was brewing at his doorstep. The ghosts of his past were ready to reclaim what she and her family had taken, and his blind lust would soon become his ruin!

Chapter 1. Sullivan




Italy. Sicily...

The security opened the back gate and my driver drove in.

As soon as the car pulled into the compound, I jumped out and headed straight for the trap door, hidden from anyone living in the mansion.

I swung it open and climbed down the stairs that led to the secret underground bedroom, my very own hideaway.

I usually bring home some sl*t to the bedroom to torture and have rough s*x with them but each one of them always ends up escaping in the middle of the fun and I always think I haven't gotten the right person who will fully submit themselves to me and luckily for this bedroom, my religious parents never knew I was up to something like this.

Well, I blame my psychological disorder which always pushes me to do these things.

I stopped looking around the room which I named a beautiful room, in pleasure. The acronym is BRIP.

I always tell the sl*t I bring home about BRIP and how we can both get satisfied without each of us c*mm*ng quickly but they always think I'm crazy, well logically, I am autistic.

I do remember when I tied a sl*t to a pedestal fan and she had screamed so loudly when I switched the fan on, she almost got me into trouble.

I climbed up the stairs and headed to my regular bedroom. I pressed the secret button hidden in the bookshelf which caused it to open, and I entered my regular bedroom, pulling the bookshelf that separated my original bedroom and beautiful room, in pleasure closed behind me.

As I walked in, a knock came from the door.

"Is that you Ginevra?" I called timidly.

"É mattina Sullivan." My blonde-haired younger sister Gin spoke ' It's morning' to me in Italian walking into my room, and I raised my eyes at her as if I had just woken up.

Little did my family know that I didn't sleep at home overnight. Every evening at seven o'clock, I say goodnight to my family and retreat to my bedroom, where I secretly sneak out and go to my workplace. The details of my work are best kept secret.

"Good morning, Gin," I called walking to the bathroom.

"You should come downstairs and have your breakfast before the doctor comes," Gin spoke English this time.

"Alrighty, I will be down in a bit," I said entering the bathroom and I could hear her walking out of the room.

When I finished bathing, I put on sweatpants and a T-shirt with my half-dried black hair falling to my face.

I slipped into my slippers and walked out of my room to the hallway before climbing down the well-furnished wooden staircase.

As I climbed on the last stairs and stepped on the concrete tiled floor, my mother noticed me and she walked to me who was looking naive, boyishly... Just name it. I'm always on this kind of expression because of my health.

"Buongiorno." My mother greeted me in Italian hugging me.

"Good morning." I returned to my autistic behavior, and she pulled out of the hug.

"Come, let's get you breakfast before your doctor's appointment." She said walking me to the dining, and I was limping or should I say staggering till we reached the dining.

"How was your night? Sullivan?" Dad asked as my mother helped me to sit.

"Great." This time I was avoiding eye contact.

My mother served me my favorite meal and I started eating childishly with the rest of the three members of my family eating as well.

Dad started talking to Ginevra about business matters, but she didn't seem very happy about it. She had never shown any interest in inheriting the family companies, and neither had I.

I may be a patient, but I don't want to take over my adoptive parents' business. I already have my own business, and it doesn't involve inheriting their company. However, they're eager for me to take on that responsibility, so they've arranged for me to see the best doctor in Italy to make sure I get the treatment I need as quickly as possible.

"Take your brother to the guest room, he will be meeting the doctor there." Mother instructed Gin.

"No! I'm fine." I objected stammering. "I can walk there myself," I added standing on my feet trying to maintain a normal standing posture.

I started walking to the guest room and as I walked, I struggled to keep my balance. I looked at the ground as I walked, my movements were jerky and clumsy, but I maintained my balance until I reached the room.

I opened the door to the guest room and entered it. I sat on the couch, my head still lowered.

Although I am still in the early stages of autism spectrum disorder since childhood; thanks to my adoptive parents for the treatment they provided me with, and I haven't gotten worse with this disorder but I can't help behaving like one.

It took over an hour with me still on the couch, sitting and my head bowed when the doctor who usually treated me walked in with my parents. I raised my head avoiding eye contact with my parents or the doctor and I greeted the doctor in Italian who responded in English.

"How are you, Sullivan?" Mr. Fiore asked while I was still staring at nothing in particular.

"I'm... I'm fine. Thank you." I replied blinking rapidly.

"Well as you know, Mr. Fiore. My son needs to get better at least he needs to take on the family business before we go old." My dad started taking a seat beside my mother on the sofa opposite the doctor who was seated on an armchair facing both my parents and me.

"As you know Mr. Stone, we can't possibly rush your son's treatment. But gratefully he's responding to treatment and he's getting better than some patients that I know." Mr. Fiore addressed.

"Yes, I know. At least he's no longer freaking out when I hug him." Mrs. Stone, my mother added with a smile which I saw from the corner of my eyes.

"True. And he is making quiet phone calls nowadays. Probably he already has a friend from the internet." My dad spoke smilingly, and I almost glanced at him.

Did he eavesdrop on me while I was instructing someone who works for me from the phone?

"He's certainly showing signs of improvement," Mr. Fiore said. "Though it may take some time before he's ready to take over your businesses, and to be like everyone else out there." My parents nodded in agreement, while I sat there, trying to process everything they were saying. "If you want him to improve faster, I suggest hiring a professional to work with him regularly." He paused. "But for this to be effective, it's important to find someone who is not already part of your family or social circle," the doctor continued. "Someone who has a different personality and can relate to him in a way that's different from how you do. A lady I know from New York might be a good fit." He paused, waiting for my parents to respond. I kept my gaze averted, trying not to look directly at him.

"Someone with different personalities?" My mother repeated the doctor's word and he nodded.

"Yes, a female." Doctor Fiore confirmed his suggestion. "With the female worker, he can learn about relationships, responsibility, clear communications and even express some certain emotions that he has never done."

"Wow, we've never thought about this." My dad said glancing at my mother and both of them glanced at me I felt my anxiety rising and my eyes were about to pop out of my head.

"Si starà bene?" My mother asked giving me a sympathetic look.

Well, I don't think I will be okay according to the question my mother asked. And perhaps I will be okay if the person hired to help me is ready to do my bidding!

Chapter 2. Micah

America. New York City.



"Why the hell would you fuckin call a red-haired like me a witch?" I glared at the man in his early seventies. "I already told you I don't fuckin have sex with my grandpas," I added walking away from the VIP clubroom.

"Yo! What's up, Mica." Ricky shouted, walking with me to the hallway, the noisy rapping music blaring out from all different corners of the club.

"Don't tell me you told Friday that you love her again," I say walking to another hallway, where there are crowds of people dancing and drinking.

"You are the reason why Friday won't say she loves me back," Ricky mentioned still following me.

"Well." I stopped on my track glancing at him. "Her life isn't a fucking borin' fiction you know. Just continue fucking her and your relationship would go on smoothly. And stop with this bullshit called, love." I said with disgust. "Can it even be the name of an animal?" I eyed him giving him a purse. "You know who to


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