Entangled With The Mafia Lord

As I strolled towards the rooftop's edge, a refreshing breeze enveloped me, while the dazzling city lights beckoned. I shut my eyes, seeking solace from the tumult of my thoughts—a relentless cycle of my sisters' harassment, my mom's reminders of my perceived worthlessness, and my dad's indifference, which veiled everything in apathy.

Lastly, the upcoming race. Winning would not just mean bragging rights on being the fastest drag racer in the country. It was also a battle of ego since they stole the same race from me four years ago, those bully Russians. I wouldn’t let them win this time.

The sound of water splashing pulled me from my reverie. I glanced at my two model friends, Margot and Zayla, gracefully enjoying the night in the pool. They were my true family.

"Hey, Daphne, come join us! What are you doing over there? Stuck with the upcoming race still?" Margot called out, prompting a chuckle from me.

With a swift motion, I shed the thin covering and revealed my black bikini, plunging into the water to join them.

"Where did you get that bikini? Is it the latest from Victoria's Secret?" Zayla asked, eyes glinting with interest.

"Yeah," I replied.

"Oh wow, we should've checked it out, Margot. I told you, it's probably a limited edition. They're likely sold out. I'm so envious, Daphne," Zayla lamented.

"Next time, Zayla. Come on, Daphne, spill. What are your plans for the upcoming race? Did your car have some upgrades to match the Russians?" Margot inquired putting my brains back at it.

I sighed. “No, not yet. Even if I upgrade my car now, that won’t do. I need a new model.” I replied.

"Well, I could lend you money for it, Daphne. It’s not that big deal, why be bothered?” Margot shot back.

Shaking my head I retaliated, “At least I want to buy it with my hard-earned money.”

“If you say so. Have you reconsidered the modeling company's offer?"

I rolled my eyes. "I've already told you, Margot, I'm not interested," I replied curtly, slipping out of the water.

"Where are you going?" Margot queried. I wasn't in the mood for a prolonged conversation or the chilly air. I was the odd one out among us, not a model like my friends. Despite their company offering me a contract, I had declined. It just wasn't my thing. I’d have to find the money I needed for the race another way.

Wrapping myself in a towel, I poured a glass of wine and settled on the couch, facing the city lights.

"Are you sure? It's not about the salary, I’m sure. So, what's bothering you?" Margot pressed on. I hadn't noticed them leaving the pool.

"It's not about the money, Margot. It's simply not for me," I replied coolly.

"The opportunity was too good to pass up for us. I hope you reconsider, Daphne. Companies are eager to have you," Margot persisted.

I rolled my eyes again. "Let's not talk about work now, come on! This is supposed to be our day off. You should've invited some hot guys instead," I retorted.

They chuckled. "Even if we did, you'd just ignore them. Besides, we're both in relationships, Daphne. You know the meaning of loyalty and commitment," Zayla teased.

"Enough, don’t get me started with your romantic relationship.” I snapped rolling my eyes and sipping my wine. All I heard was their teasing chuckles in response.

This was our routine—hanging out until sunrise unless they had early fashion shows. I didn't have much of a life, unsure of what to pursue after dropping out of college in my second year. My family owned a company, so money wasn't an issue, though I doubted they'd trust me with a share. I smiled bitterly.

"Why not shake things up, Daphne?" Zayla suggested.

"I'm contented with my life, Zayla," I replied.

"But aren't you bored?" she persisted.

"What do you suggest then?" I asked, intrigued.

Zayla and Margot exchanged glances. "Do you see that?" Margot pointed to a nearby building that had been featured in Forbes.

"What about it?" I inquired.

"I heard the owner just arrived in the country. They're having a welcome party tonight," Margot said, eyebrows raised suggestively.

"And?" I prompted, failing to see the point.

"Guess who owns that famous company?" she teased.

"Cut to the chase, Margot," I urged.

"Khai Rutherford. Does that name ring a bell?" she asked.

It took a moment to register. "The billionaire with rumored ties to the mafia and a disdain for women?" I clarified.

"That's him! But he's not confirmed as a mafia leader. According to my source, he's a hot guy with abs for days and a fortune," Margot winked.

"According to mine, he detests women. There's not a single woman in his company. And remember those killings? Some say he's involved, showing his hatred towards women by... well, you know," Zayla added, her voice tinged with suspicion.

Confusion clouded my thoughts. "So what's the plan? Are we going to discuss his life story here?" I asked, growing impatient.

"You're exaggerating, Margot. What she means, Daphne, is how about we catch his eye? You catch his eyes." Zayla suggested with her brow turning upside down.

My eyes widened. "Are you serious? I'm not doing that!" I protested.

"Why the hesitation? Who knows, he might be just what you need to shake things up," Margot proposed.

"He could bring some excitement into your life," Zayla added.

I was speechless. "Are you hearing yourselves?" I exclaimed.

"Just a little adventure, Daphne. You love that, don't you?" Margot teased.

"What do I get out of it? What if he's dangerous? Can you bring me back to life if something goes wrong?"

“How about a Bugatti La Voiture Noire to seal the deal? You’ll just have to lure him and prove to us that he doesn’t despise women. If he doesn’t take the bait, and he’s not interested, then the deal is over. Goodbye, Bugatti. However, you are Daphne Harper, your beauty cannot be resisted by a bachelor like him, no matter what his deal with women is. More likely, you’ll win this bet and welcome your dream Bugatti La Voiture Noire into your collection. You said you wanted it to be hard-earned right? It’s an opportunity you shouldn’t let slide, Daphne.”

Margot spilled the most tempting and reasonable offer I’ve ever heard in my entire life. Well, that sports car had been one of my dreams, with its staggering price tag of around 18 million dollars. A part of me convinced myself it was worth it. I had an upcoming race, and I desperately needed one for it.

That’s how I found myself sneaking into Rutherford's corporate headquarters. I glanced back at my two friends, who were cheering me on inside Margot’s car. Their wide grins made me want to step back. I shook my head, questioning why I had agreed to this, but then I thought of my dream Bugatti. It’s now or never, or else I won’t win that damn race. With that thought in mind, I continued inside until a guard stopped me.

"Ma'am, you're not allowed here," the guard said, visibly nervous. So, the news was true.

"I have an invitation," I replied, showing the card Margot had given me, claiming it was from a friend working at the company.

"That's impossible, ma'am. No women are allowed in the building. It's our strictest policy," the guard stated firmly.

"If you don't let me in, your boss will surely kick you out of here," I warned, my voice dripping with authority.

"But, ma'am…"

"Hey, are you Margot's friend?" A man in casual attire appeared behind the guard.

"Good evening, Sir Brixton. This woman insists she was invited…" the guard began.

"Well, yes, she is," Brixton interrupted.

"But is she allowed?" the guard questioned.

"Don't worry about it. She's invited. Did you see the invitation card she's holding?" Brixton replied confidently.

The guard relented, bowing his head. "I'm sorry, ma'am," he muttered, eyeing me as I nodded and followed Brixton, who was eyeing me from head to toe.

"Are you done?" I asked, annoyed.

"Margot never fails me. He'll surely soften toward you," he commented, leaving me puzzled.

"Let's get this done," I replied curtly.

"Whoa, so feisty," he remarked. I rolled my eyes and followed him into the elevator.

"What do I have to do?" I asked.

Margot had mentioned I just had to lure him. And after that, my sports car would be mine.

"Just get inside his office, and you'll see. The drug is only effective until tomorrow, so leave him before sunrise, understand?" Brixton asked, which made me frown.

"What do you mean by that?" I asked back.

Before I could hear his answer, the elevator doors opened.

"Good luck, dear!" Brixton cheered before vanishing.

"Hey, wait—" But the doors closed, leaving me frustrated. What was wrong with him? What did he mean by the effects of the drug? I couldn't comprehend it.

Roaming my eyes over the floor, I marveled at the opulent interior design. My attention was drawn to the only matte black door. Frowning at the banging noises from behind it, I slowly approached.

Was that Khai Rutherford inside? Confusion clouded my thoughts as the noises grew louder. I could hear glasses crashing. Was he breaking his furniture? Pressing my ear against the door, the noises abruptly stopped, replaced by an eerie silence.

The door creaked open, and I took a deep breath. For the sports car, Daphne. Dad wouldn't buy it for me, even if he could afford it. He'd invest that $18 million instead of indulging my luxury desires. With that thought firmly in mind, I slipped inside.

The office was a mess, vases shattered, couches out of place, as if a storm had swept through. My jaw dropped when a man's back facing me in a swivel chair greeted me. He seemed oblivious to my presence, too engrossed in whatever he was doing.

"Fuck! I'll kill you, Brixton, for what you did to me. I don't need a fucking woman! I'll never need one! I just need to release this!" A stern voice, filled with both fury and arousal, echoed in the room. When he turned around and locked eyes with me, my heart pounded. I gulped, my gaze instinctively drawn to his crotch. He had been masturbating, eagerly seeking release.

"What the hell are you doing here!?" His intense gaze bore into me as he quickly concealed himself.

"U-Uhm…" I stuttered, realizing I was in deep trouble.

"You seem lost, woman. You're not welcome here," he stated firmly, advancing toward me.

I stepped back, feeling the cold wall against my back as he cornered me, mere inches away.

"Your timing is interesting. Because right now, I desperately need you," he added, his voice low and dangerous.

"Hey, don't you dare come near me," I warned, trying to match his intensity.

"You shouldn't have been here in the first place. You're a woman and banned in my territory. Everyone in this country knows that," he retorted.

"W-What…" I began, but he closed the distance between us, sniffing my neck. Would he bite me? Was he a vampire?

"You smell good though. But you deserve to be punished!"Drawing in a deep breath, I couldn't contain my exasperation anymore. Channeling all my gathered strength into a kick aimed right at his vulnerable spot.

“Damn it!” He burst out as he groaned in pain.

As I dashed out of his office, his string of curses and threats chased me down the corridor.

“I’ll kill you!” His menacing shout sent shivers down my spine, heightening my fear as I gasped for air, making my way to the elevator.

Criticizing myself silently, I panicked at the thought of being caught and potentially ending up dead, my body possibly found floating in the ocean come sunrise.

The sound of his voice, booming through the building's speaker system, demanding my return under a death threat to his men, confirmed my fears. With the party still happening on the rooftop, I clung to the hope of escaping. However, the elevator's painfully slow descent from the 30th floor tested my patience.

The moment the elevator doors slid open, hope surged through me, only to be dashed the instant I spotted a pair of black shoes outside. Relief washed over me as I recognized Brixton, believing for a moment he would assist me.

But his apology left me speechless. “I’m sorry.”

“Aren’t you going to help me? Hey!” I protested as Brixton hoisted me over his shoulder.

“You're supposed to be on my side! I’m a friend of Margot’s! Don’t take me back to him! He’ll kill me!” I continued to protest and struggle against Brixton’s grip as he re-entered the elevator with me.

“We must face the consequences,” Brixton replied coldly.

“Damn you! Let me go!” I screamed in desperation.

But my fate seemed sealed. My heart sank as the elevator doors reopened, revealing the all-too-familiar interior of the office.

“To hell with you!” I spat out.

“Just do as he says, and you won’t be hurt. He’s not that type of man,” Brixton whispered, though I doubted his reassurance, haunted by stories of women harmed by gang violence.

Upon being left alone with him again, my demand to be left alone was met with his cold observation of my defiance.

“Stay away! I’ll fight back!” I warned, his smirk only fueling my determination.

Despite my desire to escape, I refrained from provoking him further, my mind on the upcoming race I still hoped to attend.

“Oops, don’t you dare do it again? Or your punishment will worsen!” He menaced. His unexpected gratitude for my actions, which had momentarily doused his desires, left me confused and hopeful for release, only to have that hope dashed as he revealed his intentions hadn’t changed. He locks me in his arms on the side. He was towering over me as I only reached his chin. He’s indeed tall because I’m 5’8 in height.

My threats of legal action were met with scorn. My defiance seemed to amuse him, sparking a comment about my upbringing that elicited a smirk from me, even as I maintained my defiance.

“Ready?” He asked. As he touched my hair, moving to trace my face and neck down to my arms, his fixation on my tattoo shifted the atmosphere.

“W-Why do you have this? I-Is this f*cking real?” My forehead creased in confusion with his sudden change of mood and shocked expression. But his question about its authenticity was the last thing I heard before succumbing to darkness and collapsing into his arms.

Rolling onto the plush mattress, I slowly opened my eyes, greeted by an unfamiliar ceiling. Panic gripped me as I realized this wasn't my room. I quickly scanned the surroundings, noting the transparent walls revealing the cityscape outside. But there was no time to appreciate the view—I wasn't supposed to be here.

My heart raced as I tried to sit up, only to find my left hand chained to the bed's frame. Frustration surged through me, but relief followed when I spotted the key on a nearby table. With a mischievous smile, I stretched my body, using my long legs to reach for the key and free myself.

Once liberated, I wasted no time escaping from wherever I was.

***

"What the heck, Margot? I'm telling you, he's a monster!" I exclaimed into the phone, my frustration palpable.

"Okay, Daphne, just calm down," Margot's voice responded soothingly.

"Calm down? He almost killed me!" I protested vehemently.

"Look, I'm sorry, alright? But are you safe now? Back at your mansion?" Margot inquired.

I scoffed. "Safe? I'm not sure I'll ever feel safe again after that encounter with him."

"Have you managed to lure him?" she asked, reminding me of our deal. Damn it, I had completely forgotten about that in the chaos.

"Of course not! He's a freaking demon, Margot!" I snapped.

Her chuckle grated on my nerves. Maybe I should've just lied and said I succeeded in luring him. But it was too late now. I slumped on the mattress, my mind racing with thoughts of the upcoming race.

"It's alright, Daphne. There will be another chance," Margot reassured me.

I scowled. "There won't be a next time. Not after what happened today."

"But admit it, he's incredibly good-looking, isn't he?" Margot teased.

I hesitated before responding, "Yeah, maybe, but that doesn't change anything. I still hate him."

"Whatever you say, Daphne. I've got to go now, my shoot's starting. Talk to you later. Bye!" Margot said before ending the call.

I stared at the ceiling, lost in thought, before finally deciding to get up. After a quick cold shower and dressing in my usual black attire, I glanced at my reflection in the mirror, a faint smile tugging at my lips.

Taking a deep breath, I headed downstairs.

"Good morning!" I greeted my family as I joined them at the table, but their smiles vanished as soon as they saw me.

Ignoring their reaction, I sat down and began to eat, the tension thick in the air.

"I heard you came home this morning, Daphne," my mom remarked, breaking the silence.

I nodded curtly. "Yes."

"Stop tarnishing our family name, Daphne. It could affect our business," she admonished. I clenched my jaw, but said nothing, continuing to eat.

"She doesn't care about that. She's too busy getting drunk and flirting with random guys," my older sister, Cleo, chimed in.

I bristled at her words, but remained silent, knowing it was futile to argue.

"She even dropped out of school, Mom. What kind of future does she have?" my other sister, China, added.

I shot them a bitter smile. "At least I'm not the one who got pregnant at sixteen and had to get an abortion."

My mom's gaze hardened. "Did you withdraw $100,000 from my account yesterday?"

I frowned. "Why would I need $100,000 when I have my own credit card?"

"She probably gave it to her boyfriend's mom," Cleo sneered.

I stood up, my temper flaring. "At least I'm not the one who ruined my life with my irresponsible actions!"

"Enough!" my dad intervened.

"M-Mom!" China pleaded for support.

"Get out, Daphne," my mom ordered.

I shrugged nonchalantly and left the room without another word, their accusations ringing in my ears.

As I drove away in my black Lamborghini Veneno, I couldn't help but feel a sense of liberation. Those people were suffocating me, and I refused to let them dictate my life.

Lost in my thoughts, I parked in the VIP area, only to be startled by the arrival of a Lykan Hypersport. I pulled up in front of it, recognizing the driver as he stepped out.

He glanced once more at my car, shaking his head before climbing into his own vehicle, allowing me the space to exit mine.

"Daphne! Long time no see, sorry about earlier. I didn't recognize your car. You haven't visited since last week, have you?" Cameron greeted me, a fellow racer.

"Yeah, been busy," I replied, eyes flickering to the cars on the track.

"You joining the race next week?" he asked.

"Not sure," I replied, thoughts already swirling about how to acquire an $18 million car without setting off alarms with Dad.

"Why? Your car's in great condition," he noted.

"Still deciding," I said, considering consulting Margot for and definitely the bet we had could make a huge change, after all I was able to lure him though it didn’t end up rightfully as planned.

"Alright. Heard some foreign racers are competing. It's our chance," he mentioned. That caught my attention, presenting a tempting opportunity.

A Ferrari F60 pulled up, and Elon, the driver, greeted me. I nodded in acknowledgment.

"Race?" he asked.

"Not in the mood, Elon," I replied curtly.

"Really? Or are you scared?" he taunted.

I shot him a cold glance. "You think so?"

"I'll wait," he said before reviving his engine and returning to the track.

"Hey, just ignore him," Cameron advised as I returned to my car.

"You know me, Cameron," I said with a shrug, determined to give Elon a lesson.

I pulled up beside him at the starting line. Elon waved, earning an eye roll from me. Cameron signaled the start, and when the flag dropped, I let Elon take the lead, pretending to struggle with my speed.

Midway through the race, I surged ahead, leaving Elon in the dust. At the finish line, I crossed first, victorious.

"You're still the Daphne I knew," Cameron commented as I approached him, not bothering to exit my car.

Elon joined us. "You got lucky. Had a problem with my wheel."

"Really?" I mocked.

"This isn't over, Daphne. See you next week," Elon retorted before driving off.

"So, joining the race next week?" Cameron asked.

"I have nothing to prove to him. Only interested because of the foreign racers," I admitted.

"Sure, sure. Anyway, I gotta go," he said, departing. Alone again, I drove home, contemplating my next move.

Arriving at the mansion, I noticed an unfamiliar luxury car parked outside. Curiosity piqued, I approached, only to find two imposing men in black suits guarding the door.

Since when did Dad hire guards? Or were they something more sinister? I shook off the thought and entered the mansion.

In the living room, I found Mom and Dad conversing with a familiar, unwelcome presence—Mr. Rutherford.

"As I was saying, your daughter trespassed into the Rutherford Empire," Mr. Rutherford stated, his gaze cold as it landed on me.

"And she's here," he added, causing my parents to turn towards me, Mom's expression promising trouble.

"Mr. Rutherford wants to sue you for trespassing, Daphne," Dad stated firmly.

"What! That's ridiculous!" I protested, glaring at Mr. Rutherford.

"And for attempted murder," he added, sending a chill down my spine. Before I could react, his guards restrained me.

"You're insane! What are you talking about?" I yelled, struggling against their grip.

"You know what I'm capable of, Mr. and Mrs. Harper. There's only one solution for all of this," Mr. Rutherford stated, his gaze returning to me.

"What solution?" Dad asked, trying to keep calm.

"For your company's stability and safety...give me your daughter, Mr. Harper.”