The Mafia's Curvy Woman

By: Sam Crescent

She had seen them come in and arrest her father in the middle of the night. By the time morning came, her father was back home and not a mention to him being escorted out of the house at night.

Just like she knew arriving at Marco Guidi’s apartment in the middle of the city wasn’t some housekeeping job. She had heard her parents talking. They didn’t like having her around the house. She asked too many questions, and they were worried she’d open her mouth or talk to the wrong kind of person.

She loved her family very much, though maybe a little less as she knew she was being sold. She’d never, ever snitch on her family. They meant the world to her.

Still, she stood in the middle of the sitting room, waiting.

Marco Guidi.

He was a handsome man. Sexy in a dark, mysterious kind of way. Whenever she looked at him, his gaze always seemed to hold dark secrets.

Secrets she knew she shouldn’t want to know but intrigued her still.

There was no denying an attraction to him, and knowing she’d been “sold” to him turned her on. She wasn’t ignorant of the kind of man he was either.

Maybe she should be.

Marco confused her in every single way.

He was a deadly man, fierce, strong, and she had no doubt he’d killed a lot of people in his time.

Still, her want of him hadn’t diminished or faded, even knowing partially what he was capable of.

Running her fingers through her brown hair, she looked around the pristine apartment.

There was no reason for him to have a housemaid. From how clean the apartment was, she figured he had someone he trusted come in a couple of times a week.

Stepping over to the windows, she quickly moved back.

Heights were not her thing. She was terrified of them, and even when she watched movies based on heights, her body got all sweaty.

“It’s a wonderful view,” Marco said.

She spun around to see the very man himself in the main living room, watching her. She hadn’t even heard him come in.

“Were you here?” she asked.

“No, I stepped out.”


“Do you like the view?”

“It’s lovely.”

He wore one of his classic suits. She had noticed her only ever wore black suits, and once again, he was in black. Did he always expect to attend a funeral?

“You’re afraid of heights?”

She glanced behind her, not wanting to look down. “A little bit, yeah.”

“I’m afraid it’s something you’re going to have to get used to.”

“I guess.” She pressed her hands together, not really sure what she should or shouldn’t be doing. “What kind of job is it that I’ve got?”

“Your father told you it was a job?”

“Yes.” She nodded her head.

Marco walked closer to her. Each step he took, Petal found her body responding to him. She wanted him to touch her, to put those huge hands on her and make all of her fantasies come true.

Living with her father, she’d been restricted in everything she could do. She wasn’t allowed to attend a regular high school. She’d been shipped off to an all girls’ school, only allowed to return when he wanted her around or for the holidays.

The men around her always kept their distance, until now.

Marco was the first man she had been alone in a room with. Her father or mother would always miraculously enter a room.

She often wondered what it would be like without her meddling parents, but she had yet to find out.

Petal had no choice but to tilt her head back as Marco advanced closer to her.

“I don’t want you cleaning my place, or touching anything.”

“Then why am I here?” she asked.

His lips were so close.

She’d never been kissed. Never even been felt up by a guy.

The only thing her father hadn’t restricted was her reading. She could read as much as she wanted for as long as she wanted. She had absorbed every kind of romance there was, and even more so. Anything that was related to romance in any way.

She craved it.

To be loved.

To love.



All of it.

It was probably wrong for a twenty-one-year-old virgin to have an illicit affair, to be at the mercy and skill of an older man and to even fall in love, but it was what she wanted. She fantasized a lot about her future, even with this man in front of her.

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