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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. * * *

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I pulled a large tee over my head and sighed when it was finally settled on my body, letting out a low sound of victory. That had taken a lot of time to do. My body was sore and moving a single muscle hurt. I made my way downstairs, my bare feet silent on the cold floors. I went down the stairs and to the kitchen to see Vittore on his phone and he looked freshly showered.

How long did I take?

I sat down across from him and he placed his phone down.

"How are you feeling?" he asked simply but my heart fluttered and the hint of care I heard in his tone.

"Like a punching bag," I answered and a plate with a sandwich was slid in front of me. I looked up at Vittore who had settled down with his own plate.

"Finish that and I'll give you something to help with the pain," Viitore said and I nodded, not really knowing how to answer anymore.

He choked me. Well, I had choked him too...