The Mafia's Pet

Chapter 28

Vanessa

An unhinged laugh bubbles from my lips. "Oh no, I don't know what he's told you about us, but we're not in a relationship. I owe him a debt, and in five months, I'll be out of here. So, like none of that," I pause, gesturing to the nonsense she just said, "is happening between us."

She nods with a knowing look. "Sure."

Sure? What the hell does that mean? Did he tell her something different?

My mind races with unanswered questions as her men swiftly pack up everything and disappear out the door. "I will be seeing you again, soon, Vanessa." She gives me a small smile and leaves.

Well, that was weird.

The encounter with Camila leaves me with a sense of unease. I cautiously approach Diego's office, the soft echo of my knock filling the air. "Come in." The command is sharp as he continues his conversation on the phone. The room is dimly lit, and I step inside to find him seated behind his imposing desk, the glow from the computer screen casting shadows on his face.

His voice resonates with anger and menace, a stark contrast to the elegant decor that surrounds him. As our eyes meet, he raises a demanding eyebrow, the intensity of his gaze beckoning me to him.

As I enter the room and close the door, he gestures with a subtle nod towards my body. His words from yesterday resurface, sending a pleasurable shiver up my spine: 'When you're here in my office, I want you wearing nothing but your collar. No exceptions. Unless, of course, you're begging for a punishment, and I promise, you won't like it.'

With an exasperated eye roll, I swiftly shed my clothes, neatly placing them aside. Gracefully maneuvering around his desk, I lower myself to the plush carpet beside his feet. On my knees, I tilt my head upward to meet his gaze. He looms over me, a towering figure, exuding an aura of intimidation and power. As his penetrating eyes sweep over my submissive form, a glimmer of satisfaction flickers within them.

"Sir." The word glides out of my mouth like silk, a seamless acknowledgment of the title that seems to belong to him now.

How easily one orgasm could change my hatred towards him.

He tilts his head. "Yes, Mama?"

"What was all of that for? Are we really attending a party?" I inquire, my voice tinged with skepticism.

He reaches behind my head, delicately removing my scrunchie and letting my hair fall freely. His fingers move through my hair, creating a gentle massage on my scalp. "Soon."

That word is really starting to get on my damn nerves. Soon could be days. Weeks. Months. Why can't he be specific? It's like he just wants to keep my hope alive when he doesn't even know the answer himself.

My eyes shift to the carpet so he can't see the tears threatening to spill. "Please. I'm just so tired of being locked up in this house. I already wasted seven years of my life being my dad's prisoner, I'll do anything to not be yours too," I plead softly.

Please, just let me out before I lose my fucking mind!

His hand continues its gentle strokes on my head. "I promise, your patience will be rewarded. Just hold on a little while longer for me."

I open my mouth to respond, but his demeanor abruptly reverts to its former, wrathful state. "Why the fuck was I on hold for ten goddamn minutes, Ernesto?" he asks through gritted teeth.

My mouth gapes in horror as I realize he's had earbuds in this entire time and someone else could've heard my pathetic begging.

"How did you misplace my fucking shipment? It arrives every week at the same time, same place!"

He gestures for me to take a seat on his lap, and I comply. I can't help but wonder who could be foolish enough to provoke his anger. His tone is downright terrifying. If he ever addressed me like that, I would probably cry.

Okay, I would definitely cry.

"No, that's fucking unacceptable." Despite his abrasive tone, his fingers trail tentatively up my thigh, and I hold my breath in anticipation.

Is he going to make me cum again? Have I earned it?