Sold to the mafia boss

Logan’s P. O. V.

Love. Loving someone; a woman was never a plan of mine, never crossed my mind. Love was something that happened to me unexpectedly, struck me hard when I least expected it.

When I’d first picked Layla up from her home that very night, I was filled with anger. I never thought she’d still be alive today, I never thought I’d be loving her like I did now. I never thought I’d be wanting to be around her, I never thought I’d be this obsessive.

I could never tell her how much I loved her, she probably didn’t feel the same way but I knew what I had to do, what I must to do make sure she loved me back.

The sex was good, satisfying me more than any woman ever did. No other woman seemed to matter at that moment, it was all her, it was always her.

Rubbing her back gently and drawing circles there, she made a stir and turned around to face me. When she smiled at me, I felt my heart skip a beat just for a second before I smiled back.

” Get dressed, I wanna show you something ” I told her.

She looks confused at first but nods anyway. I watched her step out of the bed and walked out to her room. What better way to end this beautiful day than taking her to my most precious thing of all time? To my art gallery.

I knew she appreciated art works and couldn’t wait her to put her in a room full of arts. It was hard to know if Layla was just acting up because she was scared of what I’d do to her if she didn’t comply with me but last night meant everything to her and I knew it. She had given me her precious body without thinking twice and I wasn’t gonna make her ever regret that.

I jumped into shower myself and dressed up in my signatory black suits. It was late in the morning. After having the breakfast in bed, we’d stayed there, Layla dozing off a couple of times while I just laid next to her, enjoying the feel of her soft body in my hands.

I stepped out of the room once I was content with myself and came across Layla half way through.All content is property © NôvelDrama.Org.

I wanted to speak when I saw her, to tell her she looked absolutely beautiful in her black dress. But I was struck by her rare beauty that moment to even utter a word. So I settled for a small smile and just watched her every curve.

” You look absolutely breathtaking ” I finally spoke as I regained myself.

The ways she smiles, everything was intoxicating to me. And yet I liked every aspect of it. I gave her my hand and she took it. I walked us down to the elevator till we reached the garage where my driver had my car ready to move.

” Take us to The Art Gallery ” I informed him as soon as we sat in and he nodded.

Layla turns a somewhat surprised look at me and asked ” the art gallery? ”

” Yes love, it’s across town ” I replied, amused by her surprise that I was taking her out of the house after I’d sworn never to do that ever again. I guess when you’re in love you tend to bend a certain rules. I guess I always never wanted her out of the house because I knew she’d wanted to be far from me. I did everything because I never wanted her to leave.

The Art Gallery was a fine Dom building built way long ago by my Uncle. It was old and nearly ancient to some people, but it remained one of the most beautiful and iconic buildings in the city. It stood tall in the middle of the road, charming to pedestrians as it would ever be.

I walked Layla into the place, hand in hand. I wanted to trust her, trust that she wouldn’t try to run away now. I wanted her to prove herself that she wouldn’t leave even when I leave her alone with all these people. We threw greetings to the many folks who’d come to appreciate the arts. Many tried to hold Layla, all looking excited to be seeing me with a woman.

Layla didn’t seem bothered. She loved being there. As I watched her standing before a work frame hanging off the wall, I was seeing a woman, not the young naive little girl I’d taken from her home months ago. She was another version of herself and it Intrigued me beyond measures.

We walked together for another longer while, having short conversations at each frame. Sometimes I’m just lost there, watching this beauty that I possessed, that I owned to myself alone. The thought of losing her was one I never liked to entertain but as we stood there, I knew better. I knew her smiles were all fake, I knew everything she was doing was mere pretense. I knew exactly the game she was playing.

Pretending to be used to this, to me, to everything. I knew women enough to know that no matter how much love you shower them, once they’ve set their minds out for something, they would do it.

I knew she still planned to make a run for it when the opportunity presents itself. I knew she was doing everything for a pretense.

As I watched the side of her face as we stood watching the next art work, a pang of pain washed over me and for the first time, I’d never wished so desperately that she had loved me truly and genuinely, that she’d wanted to truly be with me not just as pretense. That she’d actually felt the way I felt, loved me for whom I was.

My phone vibrates from my pocket and I reached it to find a call coming in.

From someone I’d thought would never call again.

Nigel Moretti.