A Mafia's Dark Desires
Language: en
/0/86470/coverbig.jpg?v=43bdc813898445768a4c045906d4fc7f)
Rated 18+. Andrew was the most ruthless Mafia boss. He was dark, could kill in cold blood, and only loved his three-year-old sister. He was one of the most deranged people on the planet, and he drove everyone away from him. On the outside, Ava was a strong, independent, and kind girl who didn't bow down to anyone, but on the inside she was broken. She was trying to get away from her past when she ran into him. Would she give him permission to help her run, or did she fear that he would only further break her? Find out how shit goes sideways in this epic story of love, romance and…
Available chapters
Chapter 1
Ava's POV
"Please don't, I didn't do it, I apologize for everything." I screamed, tears streaming down my cheeks.
"I don't care; I'm going to sell you and finally get rid of you." The woman I addressed as my mother spat back.
I looked into my mother's eyes, searching for a glimmer of regret, a glimmer of sorrow, anything other than anger and disgust.
But there was nothing there, no sadness or regret, just pure delusional joy as she watched me beg for help.
My own mother was selling me to a cruel and disgusting man.
I screamed, kicked, and punched in an attempt to break free from the grasp of two men, but it was futile. When my mother came home, I had withdrawn myself into a corner, knowing that my alcoholic father was not far behind her.
We were the perfect family a few years ago; I was still young and innocent.
My father had a steady job, and my mother stayed at home to care for me, despite the fact that I was in middle school at the time. We lived in a lovely home, and I remembered my close friends.
Then, about a year ago, my mother began to come home less and less, ignoring her responsibilities and not telling anyone where she had gone. My father quickly discovered that she had cheated with another man.
After he found out, he began to drink and gamble, becoming less and less the person I looked up to. When he lost all of our money and our life savings, he also lost his job because he would arrive at work drunk and high.
We had to relocate to a bad part of town, which only exacerbated our problems. My father became involved with a gang and soon owed them a large sum of money.
But I never expected him to sell me, and I never expected my mother to agree, let alone be happy.
But there I was, being picked up by two muscular men in a business attire.
I screamed, kicked, and even tried to bite the man who had thrown me over his shoulder, but it was futile.
The man carrying me was twice my size, and when I saw the gun in his waistband, fear overtook my adrenaline, and I knew there was no way out.
Because of the tears that had formed in my eyes, I could hardly see anything. I screamed for my mother, hoping and praying that she would save me from this nightmare, but all I saw before being injected with something that knocked me out was my mother smiling, almost relieved that I was being taken.
I was 15 years old when I was separated from my family.
The man who had bought me took me to his strip club and kept me there for three years.
Sylvester was the name of the man who made all of my nightmares come true. He was the sickest man who ever lived, forcing me to strip and dance for men three times my age, touching me and beating me.
He didn't care what he did, whether he hit me or touched me against my will, he enjoyed it. His deranged mind took pleasure in seeing me in pain or helplessness.
Because of my parents, I lost all of my innocence, as well as all of my respect and trust for men.
Sylvester kept me in the basement for the first few weeks I was at the strip club, not letting anyone else see me. He fed me small portions of food, but I soon discovered that he was putting something in my food that would cause me to pass out.
After that, I'd wake up with bruises all over my body and my lower body sore and hurting. The first time it happened, I assumed it was because I was tired and fell asleep, hitting my hip on something. But the second time it happened, I realized he had raped me while I was unconscious.
I almost wish I hadn't come to that conclusion because now I was trapped not only in a nightmare but also in my own mind, tearing myself apart.
He not only did it twice more, but once he realized it was too easy, he wanted to make me conscious. He wanted to hear my screams and my agony, but I wouldn't let him. I kicked, screamed, and bit him whenever he came close to me, never giving him another chance.
Even if he never raped me again, I had to deal with the constant fatal beatings and uncomfortable touching.
He told me I'd dance after a few weeks in the basement. He threatened to beat me if I did not agree at that point. As a result, I agreed.
Fortunately for me, it only took a year for him to lose interest in me because I was no longer a new shiny toy to play with. I started making plans for my escape.
It took me two years to finally get away.
When I finally managed to flee, I boarded the first plane I could afford with the little money I had. After my dance, I slipped bills into my bra, just low enough for Oliver not to notice.
And I was relieved when I finally got rid of the money. The money was filthy, and I wanted to forget everything that had happened to me.
I moved to New York and began to take on small jobs, making sure that the manager and the majority of the staff were women because I couldn't get past what had happened, so I adjusted.
I started working and soon had enough money to stop sleeping on benches and get a studio apartment.
I started smiling when I walked into my new apartment; it was the first time I had smiled since before I was sold. I finally had a place where I felt safe; it was my own space.
I went to see a therapist after I got the apartment. I knew I was screwed up, and while I didn't want anyone else to help me, I knew I needed it.
To my surprise, therapy was extremely beneficial, and I learned my self-worth and began to learn to let go, even though I knew it was impossible to forgive and forget, I had to allow myself to be happy.
"Please don't, I didn't do it, I apologize for everything." I screamed, tears streaming down my cheeks.
"I don't care; I'm going to sell you and finally get rid of you." The woman I addressed as my mother spat back.
I looked into my mother's eyes, searching for a glimmer of regret, a glimmer of sorrow, anything other than anger and disgust.
But there was nothing there, no sadness or regret, just pure delusional joy as she watched me beg for help.
My own mother was selling me to a cruel and disgusting man.
I screamed, kicked, and punched in an attempt to break free from the grasp of two men, but it was futile. When my mother came home, I had withdrawn myself into a corner, knowing that my alcoholic father was not far behind her.
We were the perfect family a few years ago; I was still young and innocent.
My father had a steady job, and my mother stayed at home to care for me, despite the fact that I was in middle school at the time. We lived in a lovely home, and I remembered my close friends.
Then, about a year ago, my mother began to come home less and less, ignoring her responsibilities and not telling anyone where she had gone. My father quickly discovered that she had cheated with another man.
After he found out, he began to drink and gamble, becoming less and less the person I looked up to. When he lost all of our money and our life savings, he also lost his job because he would arrive at work drunk and high.
We had to relocate to a bad part of town, which only exacerbated our problems. My father became involved with a gang and soon owed them a large sum of money.
But I never expected him to sell me, and I never expected my mother to agree, let alone be happy.
But there I was, being picked up by two muscular men in a business attire.
I screamed, kicked, and even tried to bite the man who had thrown me over his shoulder, but it was futile.
The man carrying me was twice my size, and when I saw the gun in his waistband, fear overtook my adrenaline, and I knew there was no way out.
Because of the tears that had formed in my eyes, I could hardly see anything. I screamed for my mother, hoping and praying that she would save me from this nightmare, but all I saw before being injected with something that knocked me out was my mother smiling, almost relieved that I was being taken.
I was 15 years old when I was separated from my family.
The man who had bought me took me to his strip club and kept me there for three years.
Sylvester was the name of the man who made all of my nightmares come true. He was the sickest man who ever lived, forcing me to strip and dance for men three times my age, touching me and beating me.
He didn't care what he did, whether he hit me or touched me against my will, he enjoyed it. His deranged mind took pleasure in seeing me in pain or helplessness.
Because of my parents, I lost all of my innocence, as well as all of my respect and trust for men.
Sylvester kept me in the basement for the first few weeks I was at the strip club, not letting anyone else see me. He fed me small portions of food, but I soon discovered that he was putting something in my food that would cause me to pass out.
After that, I'd wake up with bruises all over my body and my lower body sore and hurting. The first time it happened, I assumed it was because I was tired and fell asleep, hitting my hip on something. But the second time it happened, I realized he had raped me while I was unconscious.
I almost wish I hadn't come to that conclusion because now I was trapped not only in a nightmare but also in my own mind, tearing myself apart.
He not only did it twice more, but once he realized it was too easy, he wanted to make me conscious. He wanted to hear my screams and my agony, but I wouldn't let him. I kicked, screamed, and bit him whenever he came close to me, never giving him another chance.
Even if he never raped me again, I had to deal with the constant fatal beatings and uncomfortable touching.
He told me I'd dance after a few weeks in the basement. He threatened to beat me if I did not agree at that point. As a result, I agreed.
Fortunately for me, it only took a year for him to lose interest in me because I was no longer a new shiny toy to play with. I started making plans for my escape.
It took me two years to finally get away.
When I finally managed to flee, I boarded the first plane I could afford with the little money I had. After my dance, I slipped bills into my bra, just low enough for Oliver not to notice.
And I was relieved when I finally got rid of the money. The money was filthy, and I wanted to forget everything that had happened to me.
I moved to New York and began to take on small jobs, making sure that the manager and the majority of the staff were women because I couldn't get past what had happened, so I adjusted.
I started working and soon had enough money to stop sleeping on benches and get a studio apartment.
I started smiling when I walked into my new apartment; it was the first time I had smiled since before I was sold. I finally had a place where I felt safe; it was my own space.
I went to see a therapist after I got the apartment. I knew I was screwed up, and while I didn't want anyone else to help me, I knew I needed it.
To my surprise, therapy was extremely beneficial, and I learned my self-worth and began to learn to let go, even though I knew it was impossible to forgive and forget, I had to allow myself to be happy.
Chapter 2
Ava's POV
Three Years Later...
I was walking down the familiar streets of New York with two close friends who were dropping me off at my new babysitting job interview.
Charis and Jenny were best friends before I arrived, but they both used to work at the restaurant where I used to work about a year ago.
After they realized I was friendless and anxious, they began inviting me to events, and we became extremely close friends.
"Oh Charis, you don't need another $1,000 purse." Jenny yelled.
"Okay, you don't need a man, but here we are: you have your man, and I have my new purse." Charis responded wittily.
"But, Charis, that's not even in the same realm." Jenny moaned.
"I know, bitch, my purse is more valuable than your man." As they continued to throw harmless insults at each other, Charis countered, and I laughed.
"Oh, both of you shut up, we all know Charis has a shopping addiction, and we all know you're secretly in love with your man Jenny." I said this before Jenny could respond to what Charis had said.
"I'm not sure if I love him yet..." Jenny spoke slowly, which made Charis and I both roll our eyes.
"It's been 5 months and you can't go 2 minutes without contacting him, baby, you're in love." Charis continued to admire her new purse as she spoke.
Jenny's boyfriend is a nice guy who is blonde and has ocean blue eyes. He's well-built, and you can tell he works out at the gym. They met at a party and have been together ever since.
Because of everything that had happened in my past, I had never gotten myself to date anyone, let alone let a man touch more than my hand.
I had told Charis and Jenny about some of what had happened; they were aware that I had been forced to dance at a strip club and that my parents had sold me, but I had never told them that I had been touched against my will. I never wanted anyone to see me as small or weak again. I discovered my worth and knew I was strong.
"Ava." Jenny yelled.
"Yes?" I responded, breaking my train of thought.
"You should find yourself a man, preferably a tall one, because you know, you're kind of short." Knowing how sensitive I was about my height, she cracked a joke.
"Oh, stop, I'm not short." I argued with her, giving her the middle finger.
"Certainly dwarf." She shot back, giggling at her insult as Charis burst out laughing, tears welling up in her eyes.
Jenny, fuck off." As I laughed, I said.
I was laughing and looking at Charis and Jenny instead of ahead of me, so I wasn't paying attention to where I was going. I finally gathered myself from my laughing fit, but as soon as I did, I was hit by a hard surface and fell straight to the ground.
I rolled my eyes at myself, thinking how stupid I must have been to run into a wall.
Three Years Later...
I was walking down the familiar streets of New York with two close friends who were dropping me off at my new babysitting job interview.
Charis and Jenny were best friends before I arrived, but they both used to work at the restaurant where I used to work about a year ago.
After they realized I was friendless and anxious, they began inviting me to events, and we became extremely close friends.
"Oh Charis, you don't need another $1,000 purse." Jenny yelled.
"Okay, you don't need a man, but here we are: you have your man, and I have my new purse." Charis responded wittily.
"But, Charis, that's not even in the same realm." Jenny moaned.
"I know, bitch, my purse is more valuable than your man." As they continued to throw harmless insults at each other, Charis countered, and I laughed.
"Oh, both of you shut up, we all know Charis has a shopping addiction, and we all know you're secretly in love with your man Jenny." I said this before Jenny could respond to what Charis had said.
"I'm not sure if I love him yet..." Jenny spoke slowly, which made Charis and I both roll our eyes.
"It's been 5 months and you can't go 2 minutes without contacting him, baby, you're in love." Charis continued to admire her new purse as she spoke.
Jenny's boyfriend is a nice guy who is blonde and has ocean blue eyes. He's well-built, and you can tell he works out at the gym. They met at a party and have been together ever since.
Because of everything that had happened in my past, I had never gotten myself to date anyone, let alone let a man touch more than my hand.
I had told Charis and Jenny about some of what had happened; they were aware that I had been forced to dance at a strip club and that my parents had sold me, but I had never told them that I had been touched against my will. I never wanted anyone to see me as small or weak again. I discovered my worth and knew I was strong.
"Ava." Jenny yelled.
"Yes?" I responded, breaking my train of thought.
"You should find yourself a man, preferably a tall one, because you know, you're kind of short." Knowing how sensitive I was about my height, she cracked a joke.
"Oh, stop, I'm not short." I argued with her, giving her the middle finger.
"Certainly dwarf." She shot back, giggling at her insult as Charis burst out laughing, tears welling up in her eyes.
Jenny, fuck off." As I laughed, I said.
I was laughing and looking at Charis and Jenny instead of ahead of me, so I wasn't paying attention to where I was going. I finally gathered myself from my laughing fit, but as soon as I did, I was hit by a hard surface and fell straight to the ground.
I rolled my eyes at myself, thinking how stupid I must have been to run into a wall.
Chapter 3
I brushed myself off and looked up at the surface that had just knocked me down, but my eyes widened as I realized it wasn't a "it," but a "him," and that particular "him" didn't appear to be happy.
I ignored the man's expression and began to carefully watch him.
He was dressed all in black, with a leather jacket around his waist. Even though I could see his arm muscles through his jacket and his shirt was outlining his stomach, I could easily assume he had abs because the rest of his body that was visible was ripped.
He had intricate tattoos that ran down his neck, past his shoulders, to his arms, and then to his hands.
I swear he had a razor-sharp jawline that could cut my finger.
He had a light stubble around his jawline, which defined it even more. I looked up some more, and what I found surprised me.
He had the most beautiful eyes I'd ever seen; they were an emerald green and could probably pierce through you if you let your guard down for even a second. His eyes were easily the most beautiful feature of him.
Although he appeared to have been sculpted by God himself, I knew what kind of man he was the moment I looked into his eyes.
He preyed on helpless people and desired power above everything else.
He got what he wanted, even if it meant crossing lines that no one should cross. I knew this because I saw those eyes in Sylvester every day at the strip club. That was what shook me to my core; I knew I'd never let a man like him back into my life.
I quickly rose from the ground, his gaze fixed on me. He looked at me as if I were a piece of meat, but also with disgust. I shot him a quick glance.
"Be careful where you're going." He snarled , and his tone surprised me.
"You were blocking my path." I shot back, my gaze fixed on him.
He looked at me, surprised, but his face quickly changed when he realized what I had said. He was aware that I was putting him to the test, and he was not pleased.
"You have no idea who I am, and if you did, you wouldn't be talking to me like that." He spat at me with such certainty that the hairs on the back of my neck stood up.
"I couldn't care less who you are." I uttered as I began walking away with Charis and Jenny,who both looked at me as if I had grown two heads.
"You will, bitch, you will soon find out." He said this just as I turned a corner.
Jenny and Charis both came to a halt and stared at me after we turned the corner.
"What are you guys looking at me like I've grown two heads or something?" I inquired, still irritated by the jerk.
"Do you know who that was, Ava?" Jenny yelled, her eyes still wide with surprise.
"No, and I don't care, " I said.
"Ava, that is the leader of one of the world's largest and most dangerous gangs." Charis stated.
As if that was important.
"Charis I don't really care; I've dealt with men like him before, and he's nothing special; he doesn't know my name, and I'm not sure I'll ever see him again; if he's so big and bad, he probably has more to deal with than some girl who backtalk's him." I explained, oblivious to what Charis had said.
"You're crazy and fearless, boo." Jenny added, lightly laughing.
"Ehhhhm, I' m not fearless." I responded while Shrugging my shoulders.
Something in the back of my mind told me that it wouldn't be the last time I saw that asshole, but I ignored it because I don't need a controlling male in my life.
Ava's POV
Charis and Jenny walked me to the underground subway; they were about to board, but there was no need because it was only a few stops away and I knew how hungry they were both.
I stepped onto the subway and began brushing my pants because I had fallen to the ground and the asshole hadn't even helped me up; he was very attractive, but everything about him screamed trouble.
I quickly reminded myself that there was no reason for me to be thinking about him so much. Even though I knew I had run into him, he was not the type of man I would apologize to.
I reflected on the interview and went over potential questions in my head. I desperately needed this job. I was drawn to the ad because I stated that it paid well and that I needed money to pay for college. I really wanted to go to college , but none of my other jobs paid well enough for me to save money.
I was deep in thought when I heard my stop been mentioned. I quickly stood up and left the train. I'd never been to this wealthy section of New York. The mansions were lavish and stunning.
I was aware that the funds used to purchase these houses were tainted, but I cant be the one to fast judge. I was aware that e veryone had secrets, and that was fine with me. So, rather than analyzing, I simply admired the houses as I walked by.
I eventually arrived at the address specified in the advertisement. The house had a large black gate in front of it, a garden in front, and many flowers.
I noticed all the flowers were roses and looked at the different colors; there were pink, red, and white roses, but what caught my eye was a bush of black roses; I had never seen such beautiful roses before. Their beauty was unparalleled, and they were dark but pure.
I was jolted out of my thoughts when I noticed two guards behind the gate staring at me, both dressed in suits, and before I could think any further, my mind betrayed me and transported me back to the moment I was sold.
When I looked at my watch to distract myself and slow my breathing, I noticed I was 10 minutes early.
"I am here for the babysitting interview," I said as I returned my gaze back to them.
They now looked back at me before pressing an earpiece and speaking to someone on the other end of the line. They returned their gaze before pressing several buttons on an electronic pad behind the gate. The gate began to open with a loud noise.
The two guards approached me and waved some sort of wand around me, then he took my purse from my grasp and began looking through it. I raised an eyebrow at him, finding it odd how concerned the family was about security.
When they found nothing threatening, they returned my bag and told me to walk up to the front door, where the maid would direct me. I walked up to the front door, past the lovely roses. The door opened before I could even knock, and a small middle-aged woman stood in front of me.
She was around five feet tall and her face was wrinkled, but I was most struck by her eyes, which might have been the kindest I had ever seen.
I ignored the man's expression and began to carefully watch him.
He was dressed all in black, with a leather jacket around his waist. Even though I could see his arm muscles through his jacket and his shirt was outlining his stomach, I could easily assume he had abs because the rest of his body that was visible was ripped.
He had intricate tattoos that ran down his neck, past his shoulders, to his arms, and then to his hands.
I swear he had a razor-sharp jawline that could cut my finger.
He had a light stubble around his jawline, which defined it even more. I looked up some more, and what I found surprised me.
He had the most beautiful eyes I'd ever seen; they were an emerald green and could probably pierce through you if you let your guard down for even a second. His eyes were easily the most beautiful feature of him.
Although he appeared to have been sculpted by God himself, I knew what kind of man he was the moment I looked into his eyes.
He preyed on helpless people and desired power above everything else.
He got what he wanted, even if it meant crossing lines that no one should cross. I knew this because I saw those eyes in Sylvester every day at the strip club. That was what shook me to my core; I knew I'd never let a man like him back into my life.
I quickly rose from the ground, his gaze fixed on me. He looked at me as if I were a piece of meat, but also with disgust. I shot him a quick glance.
"Be careful where you're going." He snarled , and his tone surprised me.
"You were blocking my path." I shot back, my gaze fixed on him.
He looked at me, surprised, but his face quickly changed when he realized what I had said. He was aware that I was putting him to the test, and he was not pleased.
"You have no idea who I am, and if you did, you wouldn't be talking to me like that." He spat at me with such certainty that the hairs on the back of my neck stood up.
"I couldn't care less who you are." I uttered as I began walking away with Charis and Jenny,who both looked at me as if I had grown two heads.
"You will, bitch, you will soon find out." He said this just as I turned a corner.
Jenny and Charis both came to a halt and stared at me after we turned the corner.
"What are you guys looking at me like I've grown two heads or something?" I inquired, still irritated by the jerk.
"Do you know who that was, Ava?" Jenny yelled, her eyes still wide with surprise.
"No, and I don't care, " I said.
"Ava, that is the leader of one of the world's largest and most dangerous gangs." Charis stated.
As if that was important.
"Charis I don't really care; I've dealt with men like him before, and he's nothing special; he doesn't know my name, and I'm not sure I'll ever see him again; if he's so big and bad, he probably has more to deal with than some girl who backtalk's him." I explained, oblivious to what Charis had said.
"You're crazy and fearless, boo." Jenny added, lightly laughing.
"Ehhhhm, I' m not fearless." I responded while Shrugging my shoulders.
Something in the back of my mind told me that it wouldn't be the last time I saw that asshole, but I ignored it because I don't need a controlling male in my life.
Ava's POV
Charis and Jenny walked me to the underground subway; they were about to board, but there was no need because it was only a few stops away and I knew how hungry they were both.
I stepped onto the subway and began brushing my pants because I had fallen to the ground and the asshole hadn't even helped me up; he was very attractive, but everything about him screamed trouble.
I quickly reminded myself that there was no reason for me to be thinking about him so much. Even though I knew I had run into him, he was not the type of man I would apologize to.
I reflected on the interview and went over potential questions in my head. I desperately needed this job. I was drawn to the ad because I stated that it paid well and that I needed money to pay for college. I really wanted to go to college , but none of my other jobs paid well enough for me to save money.
I was deep in thought when I heard my stop been mentioned. I quickly stood up and left the train. I'd never been to this wealthy section of New York. The mansions were lavish and stunning.
I was aware that the funds used to purchase these houses were tainted, but I cant be the one to fast judge. I was aware that e veryone had secrets, and that was fine with me. So, rather than analyzing, I simply admired the houses as I walked by.
I eventually arrived at the address specified in the advertisement. The house had a large black gate in front of it, a garden in front, and many flowers.
I noticed all the flowers were roses and looked at the different colors; there were pink, red, and white roses, but what caught my eye was a bush of black roses; I had never seen such beautiful roses before. Their beauty was unparalleled, and they were dark but pure.
I was jolted out of my thoughts when I noticed two guards behind the gate staring at me, both dressed in suits, and before I could think any further, my mind betrayed me and transported me back to the moment I was sold.
When I looked at my watch to distract myself and slow my breathing, I noticed I was 10 minutes early.
"I am here for the babysitting interview," I said as I returned my gaze back to them.
They now looked back at me before pressing an earpiece and speaking to someone on the other end of the line. They returned their gaze before pressing several buttons on an electronic pad behind the gate. The gate began to open with a loud noise.
The two guards approached me and waved some sort of wand around me, then he took my purse from my grasp and began looking through it. I raised an eyebrow at him, finding it odd how concerned the family was about security.
When they found nothing threatening, they returned my bag and told me to walk up to the front door, where the maid would direct me. I walked up to the front door, past the lovely roses. The door opened before I could even knock, and a small middle-aged woman stood in front of me.
She was around five feet tall and her face was wrinkled, but I was most struck by her eyes, which might have been the kindest I had ever seen.