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Property Of Vittore Martinelli

When she was 14, Dalia was sold to Matteo Martinelli, the former leader of the largest Italian mafia. Flash forward with his son, Vittore Martinelli as the new leader, Dalia is given to him as a birthday present after years in spent in the "safe house". Dalia struggles to fulfill a promise she made and get her old self back as Vittore tries not to fall for the black beauty. Will they go through all the lies, jealousy, betrayal, envy, lust and murder together all in the name of love? Because at the end of it all, she is still Property Of Vittore Martinelli. * * * "Lift your hand," I said looking at how he held onto his bicep with a tight grip. "Let me take a look at the bullet wound." "No tesoro. I can do this myself," Vittore grumbled and I gave him incredulous look. "Don't start that bullshit with me Vittore. Remove your arm and let me help you or..." I trailed off, not able to say more. I was still in shock but I could do this. "Just... just let me help." "No." I glared at Vittore. "Why are you being so damn egotistic?! Let me help you! Do you know what it was like to find you like... and to..." I couldn't even get all the words out. "Let me help you. Please." Begging wasn't something I'd ever do but I just needed him to let me help him. "No-" "Why?!" I suddenly exploded. "Why won't you just let me help you?!" "Because I don't know how to handle it ok?!" Vittore suddenly exploded, his dark eyes glaring at me. "I don't know how to handle these... feelings. Fuck tesoro you drive me crazy! Don't you see that? You make me question everything I've ever known and... I can't..." I watched Vittore as his expression turned determined. "Fuck it." He leaned forward and pressed his lips on mine. * * *

Melissa · Urban
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85 Chs

73

"So he's really dead..." Vittore asked me as he scrolled over the pictures I'd shown him of Matteo's last moments.

"Dead as a doornail. If it makes you feel better, he cried and begged," I said as he passed over the phone to me.

We'd both taken showers and had on clothes from the motel's lost and found. We'd thrown out and brunt the others along with anything that had Vittore's blood on it. He now rested on the bed's headboard, looking extremely pale and tired.

"We'll leave in the morning. Lie down and get some rest," I encouraged, standing up and walking over o where he was.

"No I-"

"You nothing you bloody Italian. You're going to sleep and that's final. I'll keep watch for now."

"I don't want to leave you awake," Vittore mumbled as I guided him down into the covers and pulled the sheets over him, up to his chin.

"I'll be fine," I said with a roll of my eyes. "I'm a big girl plus... you need the sleep."