MAFIA OBSESSION: FALLING FOR HIS FORBIDDEN HEART

This story contains explicit sexual content, profanity, mild violence, and topics that may be sensitive to some readers. Please be advised.

Abigail's POV

"Four oranges, a can of milk, that will be two dollars and four cents..." I checked the contents of the bag before handing it back. The customer paid for everything and left shortly after.

Save for the chimes of the doorbell, the shop returned to its usual silence. Some days would be like this, boring and lacking customers with the "boring" factor always constant. I chewed on my fingernail watching the clock that stood over the doorway. As soon as the clock struck 4 pm, I hurriedly packed my things into my backpack.

"Already running away, huh?" Owen said with a smirk as he neared me just as I exited the shop.

"You have no idea, Owen. I've been dying to leave." I rolled my eyes in response. "Till we meet on Monday."

"I will be honoured to pass the baton then." Owen waved, laughing as he disappeared behind the door. I shook my head and started walking homeward. Our house was just a stone's throw from the store I worked at.

As I neared the house, I noticed something was off. I counted one big van and six men all clad in black visibly armed. They moved around the house like they were guarding something or someone.

I could only wonder what brought armed men to my father's house out of the blue. Bottling my fear up, I held my backpack tightly and entered the house, ignoring their gazes. ...Wow, they didn't even attempt to stop me, okay?

Strangely, I walked into more men in black, stiffly standing at every corner of our small living room. My father sat close to a man, probably in his mid-thirties, who grinned at me in a way that made me cringe.

"What's going on, padre?" I asked anxiously, toggling my eyes between the pair.

"It's nothing, mi hija. Go to your room." That was all my father said. I could swear I saw uneasiness dance behind his eyes. Without another word, I trod to my room upstairs. In the confined safety of my room, I threw my backpack aside and slumped on my bed.

...Those men in our house, who were they? Why were they here? My father had few debts here and there but who and how much did he owe? Those men... they were too scary and that young man? He made my skin crawl.

My head threatened to blow up with questions that needed answers. I decided to feed my curiosity by eavesdropping to see what I could find. With slow and stealthy steps, I crept to the door that bordered the stairway and the living room. I placed my ear to listen if I could get wind of what they were discussing.

Just as I was about to open the door slightly, a cold hand suddenly grabbed my hand from the darkness, before I could scream, another hand went for my mouth. I kicked and struggled to let go but it was to no avail, so I relaxed hoping he would loosen his grip slightly which he did. I got the golden chance to hit him in the nuts the moment I freed my arm.

I hurriedly opened the door and alarmed my father. "Padre! There's a man in the house," I stopped to catch my breath. "He..he is trying to do something to me."

The man who had attacked me emerged while holding his crotch. He glared at me with hate and venom in his eyes. He didn't attempt to attack me again, but instead, he stepped aside into a corner. To my surprise, my father showed no reaction and sat still, his eyes fixed on the ground.

"Ah, mi Reina. I apologise for what my associate did. He may have misunderstood my instructions," the unfamiliar man said, flashing his nearly perfect white teeth. One tooth had been replaced with a gold one. "I hope he didn't harm you?"

I sucked in my breath and ignored him. "Padre, Tell me what is going on. I demand an answer!" I immediately regretted my outburst. For the first time in 20 years, I raised my voice at my father.

He only shook his head and muttered. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry it has to end this way. Forgive me."

I still failed to understand what he was driving at until two men held me by both hands. It was then it dawned on me that my father had sold me out. My survival instincts kicked in and I thrashed around, seeking my freedom from these cruel men.

...The door. If I could get to it, I'd run away as fast as my legs would carry me.

I sank my teeth in one of the men's arms, he yelled and let go of me in pain. With a swift jerk of my head, I cracked my skull against the other captor's nose. Now free, I made a run for the door but I didn't get far, a burly man suddenly appeared in my way, blocking my escape path.

I found myself surrounded. I pulled a long hairpin from my hair and brandished it at anyone who tried to approach me. Then, the "strange" man came over and stopped a few metres away from where I stood. "My love, don't make this hard. Drop it," he said.

He had a really strong Spanish tone that made my tummy churn.

The smirk that seemed to have etched on his face had now disappeared.

"No. Here's what I'm going to do." I hissed. "I'm going to walk through that door and neither you nor your men are going to stop me. You hear me?"

"Okay. Okay, I hear you." A smile danced on the man's lips, his eyes raging with ecstasy. He held his hand up and the men stopped and stepped back. I relaxed a little but didn't let my guard down. With my eyes on the man and his men, I moved closer to the door and opened it. I slipped through with my back facing outside, so I kept my eyes on them.

Once I was outside, I bolted in the opposite direction hoping no one would chase me but I was wrong. I heard a sharp piercing sound from behind and then something hit me, sending searing pain around my back. My movements are suddenly slow and my legs feel wobbly.

I've been tranquillised. My vision began to blur and I fell to the ground like a sack. I tried to stand but I couldn't. I sensed someone walking towards me and squatting. Although I couldn't see him clearly, I could make out his features, the "strange" man.

"I tried to warn you and now," he paused. "Look at you."

"Fuck you, pendejo!" I spat at him and weakly fell back.

"Alright. We'll talk some other time." He rose to an upright position, leaving me on the cold road. I was carried and thrown into the back of a van, presumably the one I saw earlier when I returned from work. Slowly, I lost to the drug shot into me and my world turned black.

Carter's POV

"Where are the rest of the drugs? Pendejo?" I queried the man tied up to a concrete pillar in the cellar. He was a bloody mess with swollen eyes, cheeks, and missing teeth. My aide had informed me that he was one of the middlemen assigned to drive the trucks that discreetly transported my precious drug packages across the city.

Out of four trucks sent out, three arrived at their destination with the fourth one unaccounted for. And this fucker before me was allegedly the driver of the fourth truck.

I delivered a firm punch to his jaw, forcefully ejecting blood from his mouth. "I can't keep up doing that. Don't force my hand."

I sucked in deep breath to calm my pent frustration, bent to meet his eye. With my index finger, I raised his battered face to meet mine. "Just tell me where you stashed it up, and I'll let you go your merry way, you have my word."

The man still remained mute, heaving painfully. He still refused to talk, defiance evident in his bloodshot eyes. Kind of reminds me of me, and I hated it to the core. I have never recorded an error in returning records to my father but here I was. I needed to know where the rest of the drugs were or my father would have my head for it. My father, the Godfather, cared for his drug shipments more than he did for his family.

Further enraged, my fist slammed into his tummy. "Have you lost your goddamn tongue?" The man doubled over, puking his guts out all over the place. Some of it touched my clothes.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" I cursed in disgust, anger burning in my chest. This dude just messed up my white Prada shirt with his blood and filth. It was a limited edition released by the brand a week ago, I lost $2000 to it and now, it's gone.

Just as I was about to transfer the aggression through my hands onto his body when my aide interrupted me. "Boss? Godfather is on the line."

"Dammit. That old man again," I quietly muttered to myself, knowing that there could be only one possible reason for him to call my private number.

"Take care of him." I quickly wiped my hand clean of the blood and snatched the phone from my aide. "Make sure he talks."

"Father."

A deep, cold voice spoke up, low and concise. "Carter, you have been unreachable lately. I expect a valid explanation from you why you keep ignoring my calls."

I rubbed my nose with the back of my palm. "I've been busy, father. Business as usual"

Silence crept in for a little moment. I smiled when he sighed heavily.

"You should know why I have called and through this line."

"I figured," I answered, visibly irritated. Topic of marriage and all the crap talk that comes with it.

My father continued, ignoring my tone. "This is the last time I will say this and this time, I'm giving you a condition and an ultimatum."

I held my breath. My hand suddenly felt cold.

"In three days, I'm retiring finally and I have to hand over my fortune to a capable hand. As my first son, you are to be taken up from where I've stopped. But your stubbornness and foolishness will eventually cost your position as the heir."

Here came the anticipated words. "Bring a wife home and solidify your stance." But he said something I never expected.

"Otherwise, you have new competition. Roman will take everything, including your establishment. You have one week or kiss everything goodbye." The call abruptly ended before I could respond.

"Fuck." I ran my fingers through my hair, disturbed and torn apart. My father has always threatened me about not handing over the Cartel to me if I don't bring a wife to him. The old man needed grandkids badly. He triggered something inside when he mentioned the name, Roman, my stepbrother.

I despised Roman more than anyone else. He had a talent for getting under my skin and always making my life miserable. He constantly sought competition with me, and he was infuriatingly good at it. Now, out of nowhere, my father brings him into the picture. I wish I could throttle him with my own hands. There's no way I'm going to let everything I built into that bastard's hand.

I had to sort the matter out as soon as possible. "Roman isn't going to destroy all I've built, not while I live."

I made my way to my office in brisk steps, my mind weighing different options. I needed to do something, anything to free the burden on my neck, probably to stall the rage of my father.

Then it struck me. I'd find a woman to stand in as a wife on a contract. At least, my father would get off my back and the inheritance would be mine.

My lips curled up in a sinister smile as the imagery of the thought played in my head. It was time I called in some favours.

I rang the bell underneath my table, a guard hurried in. "Sir."

"Have Rodrigo here, now," I said. As the guard exited the room, I leaned back in my seat, closing my eyes. I could only hope the plan goes well.

Rodrigo, my aide, arrived in minutes. "Boss, you called?"

"You're a mess." Blood stains had marred his clothes, he had some dried-up blood on his face. "Sit, I want us to rub minds together and fast. My father has given a deadline, one fucking week."

I took my time to outline what I had in mind and asked for his opinion.

"It sounds like a good idea. I think I have someone in mind who would help out in a way."

And again as always, Rodrigo to the rescue. All that is left is to watch the plan roll in motion.

I retrieved my black overall jacket hung on my chair. "Let's pay a visit to him, shall we?" Rodrigo and I shared one sinister smile.

Abigail's POV

I awoke to blinding darkness and sharp ringing sounds in my ears. I felt helpless and weak as the effects of the tranquilliser still ravaged my body.

"Help!!! Get me out of here, please!!!" I yelled with all the strength I could muster. I tried to stand but my legs refused to respond, so I could only get in a sitting upright position.

My scrambled mind finally relaxed a bit and I could think once again.

'Where the fuck am I?' In a futile effort, I tried to make up what structure I was held in. A cell, I could only presume. No windows, just bar slits in the door. Judging from the distance of the room to where I was, the cell was small. I wasn't alone, giant rats roamed free, nibbling at my feet at random.

Devoid of hope, tears flowed in turrets down my cheeks. I had never undergone a lot of emotions at the same time, hate, betrayal, neglect, and fear. Even in years to come, I never thought my father would throw me off my feet without warning.

The flashbacks of our good times painfully rushed in, I gripped my head in anguish. We went fishing together, visited amusement parks, and played darts. Every year on my birthday, he held a birthday party for me. Although it was the best, the memories had attached their roots in my mind.

He would always say he loved me, that he saw my mom in me. He didn't promise me the whole world but I cherished the little he did. But now, it turned out to be a fattening process for the time he will sell me out like a goddamned pig to a butcher. The memories continued to roll for a while, and then like a movie, it began to fade out replacing itself with darkness fueled by utter hate.

'Just you wait. I'll kill you with my own hands.' I clasped my dress so tightly that I thought I'd tear it. I calmed myself, casting aside my despair. I'd find a way out of this mess, somehow.

Just then, the door made cranky unlocking sounds and creaked open. A tall figure stood menacingly at the entrance, I tried hard to recognize the face but it was too dark to see.

"Hey. Follow me closely." He commanded and turned to leave almost immediately. I struggled to my feet and trailed behind him sheepishly. We walked through a long red neon dimly-lit corridor with iron doors at each side. I could tell people occupied those cells by the thrashing and banging on the doors, pleading to be released.

I couldn't help but pity those poor souls held up. Lost in my reverie, I had strayed too far from the man and was too close to the cell doors, a hand reached for my neck and squeezed it tightly.

"Get me out of here!" I saw a messed up face that owned the hand howl at my face.

The man I followed stepped forward in a flash like he tore through the very fabric of space. With a precise arc of his dagger, he cut off the hand that held me, warm blood sprayed all over my face.

I shrieked at the sight of so much blood. I doubled over and puked everything that I ate last.

"I clearly said you follow me." The man said, wiping off blood on his dagger with a cloth before putting it away. "That's what you get when you don't listen to simple instructions. Come on."

I rolled my eyes, mimicking his words. Good thing he ignored me and continued walking, his moves back there were rather scary but I disliked being picked on. Duh.

Soon, he reached a room and knocked in an unusually rapid rhythm. He held the door and gestured to go in with a quick tilt of his head to the side. I walked in cautiously, looking around like a scared puppy. There was a table at the end of the room and a chair behind it and it's back facing me. I got to the centre of the room and halted, waiting. My heart thumped against my chest, the tension in the room could be cut with a knife.

The chair spun around, revealing the man I met back at my "father's" house. My heart stopped momentarily.

He fixed his gaze on me and I returned the gesture. He broke the gaze and broke into a fit of laughter. "She's quite the strong one. Isn't she?"

The men stationed all around the room also joined in the laughter. They sounded like they were forced to laugh and it was weird.

He stopped laughing, and so did the men. He rose from his chair in a rather graceful manner that I found oddly hot. He circled me like a predator.

"I'd love to apologise for the little discomfort you had to go through yesterday." He said, amusement dancing in his voice. ...Oh, It was already a wonderful day, wonderful.

"I must say the drug was rather effective, I'd never had a good sleep in a long while. I have you to thank you either way." I retorted, playing along despite the fear that gripped my bones.

His lips slowly curled in a smug smile. "Defiance even in the face of terror. I like that."

I gulped, still maintaining a straight face. "I'm glad you do, punk."

"You! Watch your tone, bitch." A bodyguard rushed at me in quick strides in an attempt to slap me. I closed my eyes, anticipating the impact but it never came. The "strange" man shot past me, blocking the guard's hand, and kicked hard in the belly, sending him flying and crashing hard against the wall.

His voice came out laced with venom. "Nobody touches her apart from me. Am I clear?"

The bodyguard shuddered, nodding hard. I hate to say this but I kind of like this guy.

"Forgive my guard, he acted out of duty. My apologies." He arranged the hair that fell loose, this act I found sexy. 'Don't be ridiculous, Abigail. he's your fùcking captor.'

He continued. "Ahh, where are my manners? We don't introduce ourselves properly. My name is Carter, Carter Dean, the leader of this humble cartel and your host. I sensed the mockery when he added "Your host."

Just as I was about to tell him my name, he cut me off. "I know your name already. Don't bother." I swallowed my words, embarrassed.

"Why am I here anyway?" I blurted out. My question was met with deafening silence for a minute.

"You are mine, Abigail. You are mine." Carter uttered calmly.

Raising a brow, I chuckled completely perplexed. "Excuse me?"

Carter retired to his seat at the table. He grabbed a bottle of whiskey and poured himself a drink before answering. "You heard me, Miss Abigail. You're mine. What part of the word do you not understand?"

I stood akimbo, staring daggers. "What do you and my father have to do with each other?"

Carter gently put three cubes of ice in his glass. "Here's a simple way to put it. Your father took some money from me and failed to return the sum as we agreed. You were his collateral, that's why you are here. Need a Spanish interpretation?"

I felt the need to laugh and cry at the same time. I wasn't only kidnapped against my will, I was also sold to a notorious Cartel Boss.

I fought back tears. "I want to go home, please. I can pay you back, I just need to scramble up my savings."

Carter's whiskey glass stopped halfway to his mouth, his eyes brightened with assumption.

"Are you serious right now?"

"Dead serious." I countered.

Bemused, He placed the glass on the table intertwining his fingers. "I won't mind. The amount your father owes me isn't much."

My body tensed up, I really hated the suspense. "How much was it?"

Oh God. I feel jelly.

"$800,000 flat." He said casually and resumed drinking.

I feared my heart stopped, blood rushed to my head and I staggered slightly. "$800,000?"

He nodded as a reply.

The gravity of the whole situation weighed on me. The damage has been far done. The option I had left was to accept my fate because there was no way I would pay eight hundred freaking dollars, I only earn about 100 bucks a month.

Carter still had his predatory eyes on me. "Still want to pay?" I chose to remain silent, averting his gaze.

*Alright. I have a solution for you. You're a decent girl and I kind of like you, luck has smiled on you today." He emptied the glass and resumed speaking.

"Here's the deal... Be my wife for a span of 6 months and let's say we forget all of these. You'd be heavily compensated and be sent on your merry way. Refuse, and-Well, let's just say you'd find comfort within your cell in time. What do you say? Your call." Carter sat at the edge of the table, crossing his long fingers.

God knows, I've fallen into an abyss. I bit my tongue so hard the taste of copper filled my mouth. My next words and actions would determine my fate by the hand of this beast in the skin of a man.