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13| Failed Attempts
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His Control: The Mafia’s Prisoner 14| Broke As Hell
Most dresses had price tags that would have sent her bailing out of the boutique when she stepped in with her four-figure account.But Senna didn't seem bothered about it. He had made himself comfortable by sitting on one of the pristine white couches in the room and was back to looking at his phone.The attendant was friendly to Balia, so she could freely say anything."Don't you think this is too expensive? Four hundred and fifty dollars for this dress that's as light as polystyrene?" Balia asked as she held up a black, thin, chiffon dress.Jessica laughed. "I understand what you mean," Then she glanced back at Senna. "Your boyfriend seems more than able to take care of the bills. He wouldn't have brought you here if he didn't." "He's not my boyfriend," Balia said immediately."Oh," Jessica said awkwardly. They were both silent for a while before Balia's eyes caught a burgundy dress on a hanger. She knew she wasn't supposed to get ahead of herself, but she couldn't ignore this dres
His Control: The Mafia’s Prisoner 15| Senna Is Shitty
Balia's POVThe rest of the day went by in a blur. Senna made sure I got everything I wanted that same day, and when I told him I didn't need them immediately, he gave me a stern glance and reminded me that this was the only time I was going to step outside this month.I hadn't been surprised by his words. I was used to his kind of person. I mean, it was only a few hours, but his brutality was enough for me to get used to. Several bags were carried out by the attendants of the last shop we went to. I followed behind them with many bags in my arms, too. The car was too small for the bags, so we filled the trunk and the backseat with the bags. Senna took the passenger seat, and I sat at the back, at the edge of the door, as that was the only room left.The drive back home was silent again. I watched Senna from where I sat at the back, wondering what kind of person he was. He had no personality, or maybe it was just me. He had this unfazed persona that never really faltered, so I could
His Control: The Mafia’s Prisoner 16| Downsides
Downsides of Austerity.Her question slightly amused Senna. He had forgotten that she wasn't used to luxury and niceties. How in the hell had he thought she was used to it anyway? She was a mere club girl, probably making a living from her salary from working shifts at his club. He wondered if he had made a mistake by bringing her here.But he was a patient man. He sighed and placed his card in the space before him. "Anything you want to have here tastes good. They don't make bad food except for broccoli, which they didn't make. I'd suggest that you try out the pasta and chicken spare ribs. You can have pork or lamb meat if you want to try something new because I am sure you're used to eating chicken."She frowned slightly at him but said nothing. Nodding, she picked up her card. She read through. "Quick lamb Ragù and Hearty lamb Ragù with rigatoni. What's the difference?"Senna sighed. He wasn't patient enough to answer her questions, but they were in a public place. Not yet he care
His Control: The Mafia’s Prisoner 17| A Rich Snob and a Low-life
Cinzia's POVIt had been long since Senna had last seen her. The last time they saw had been at a party in Santorini, and they had fucked that night. He liked that she hadn't held onto the fact that they had sex and used it to hold him down. She understood that it was casual and a one-night stand, and that was the end.She was the daughter of the Dark Knight Mafia group, one of the leading Mafia groups in Mexico, and Senna had only done business with her father once. Mateo Cabral. He wasn't an honest man. Well, Senna wasn't either, but he had expected some form of honesty from that man because he had looked up to him.When he realized that Mateo was going behind his back and plotting with the men in charge of border crossing to increase their fee so he could get a cut, he decided to pull off from dealing with the fraudulent man.But he had met Cinzia at the party, and she had taken his breath away. Had she? Well, that was the symbolic meaning for something else: she'd caused his groin
His Control: The Mafia’s Prisoner 18| A for Audacity!
Balia's POVWhatever happened didn't matter. I was tipsy, but I knew what I was doing. It was the same me but bolder.Cinzia stared at me like she wanted to eat me alive, but did I care? No. My eyes were probably deceiving me.She broke into a broad smile that was too fake. "It's fine, Senna," She said in the sweetest, chirpiest voice as she ran her fingers down his arms. "She has every right to be mad. I'll see you around soon?"He nodded. "Yeah, sure. We'll catch up later."I watched as she walked away from us, sashaying her waist and reveling in the suggestive gazes she was getting from men and women alike.I disliked her.That word was too subtle. Too soft. I needed something strong.I despised her.There was something about people who had money and privilege that made them such stuck-up snobs who looked down on others. Always I was not too fond of it. Especially at the club where you had to smile at women who were rude to you so you could keep your job. Or the women who depended
His Control: The Mafia’s Prisoner 19| Vouyeur?
When they arrived at Senna's home, it was dark, and the night skies glistened with stars.Balia had kept her space by the car's side door, nursing the slight bruise she had gotten from the hard push Senna had given her back at the restaurant. At that moment, she felt like she was eighteen again. Luca, after coming back from his drug adventure to seek sobriety, had offered to take her out to dinner.She had forgotten how he struggled with a bipolar disorder that had gone untreated due to his disregard, and after having a heated argument on their way back home, he had shoved her hard. That night, he left and didn't return for several months.She was snapped out of her thoughts when she heard the sound of the front door closing with a thud. Pushing herself up, she pulled the door open and made to carry the shopping bags. But someone was already there to do all that. She smiled weakly in appreciation before going into the mansion.Senna was standing by the mini bar with a glass of iced br
His Control: The Mafia’s Prisoner 20| Compensation?
The next morning, I had a slightly different routine. Wake up and have Tina bring a new set of skincare products, hair products, and fragrances."Here.". She said and handed a box over to me. I took it from her hand and opened it, only to see it was an iOS set. My eyes widened, and I gasped in shock while looking at her."I've never used an iOS device, Tina. But now I get the latest phone, a MacBook, and an iPad? How grand is that?"She smiled and sat beside me as she peered down at the devices. "You're so lucky to get this, Balia. It's really expensive. I told you he's a nice man. He noticed you didn't have a phone and got you these." To Balia, extravagance didn't mean anything. Because he spent on her didn't change the fact that he was a fucking devil.But she smiled as usual and nodded. "I love them! Now, I don't get to be bored in here!""Finally, before you delve into the beauty of your new devices, is this," Tina said and handed a small packet in a manila envelope to her. With
His Control: The Mafia’s Prisoner 21| Suppressed Desires
"You seem to have forgotten that I now own you, Tesoro," he muttered. Now, Balia was flush against him, both of her palms flattened against his chest, and there was a way he had said those last words like cream was being poured on velvet cake. The word rolled out his mouth so smoothly, and Balia felt her knees weaken.But no, she wasn't going to let this man see how his words weakened her, how his touch made her want more. She was going crazy. Since last night, after seeing how he had fucked Cenzia, he was all she could think about, and she wished that, at this moment, he would bend her over like he had bent Cenzia over. She was starting to get jealous. It wasn't a good feeling. "Can you let me go?"His eyes raked down her body. She wore a light purple dress that didn't get to her knee. She remembered this dress. She had liked it the instant she saw it, mostly because of its colour, and then she wore it and fell in love with it the more. It hugged the curve of her tiny waist, fall
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