Chapter 1 Mistaken Identity

• Roxanne’s POV
• I thought I had crawled out of hell, but it only dragged me back by the hair, laughing as I begged.
• That was what it felt like when the syringe stabbed into my neck and the world fell to black. One second I was pushing through the crowd at the airport, clutching the ticket that was supposed to buy me freedom, and the next thing I knew… Darkness.
• Now, my muscles were cramped, and my throat felt parched, both from screaming and thirst. Or probably the after effects of whatever drug they gave me.
• How long have I been tied up in this compacted trunk like a worthless cargo?
• Were these my step-brother’s men? How had he found me so fast?
• No, how had he known which plane I had chosen? I had bought three different tickets, three different destinations, just to confuse him. Still, I had ended up here.
• The tires screeched, causing my body to jerk and slam against the side of the trunk. My stomach lurched as the car halted, and I curled into myself, shaking so hard my teeth chattered.
• A memory slashed through my skull, my father’s face the last time I had tried to escape. His cold evil eyes had bored into me as he gripped the crop, lashing me again and again until the world turned red with my blood. When I woke up in the hospital three weeks later, still swollen and bandaged, Nicholas had been waiting at my bedside. He had lit a match, set my hair on fire, and pressed my face into the smell of my own burning.
• He had told me I was lucky that I looked like Martina, his perfect sister, the legitimate one. Lucky he could mistake me for her in the dark. Otherwise, he would have chopped me into pieces and fed me to the dogs.
• His exact words to me were “You’re inferior, Roxanne. You’re our father’s shame. Run again, and I’ll amputate every limb until you crawl like a worm.”
• I was the unfortunate Mafia princess. I had been so careful that it took me close to a year to find the courage to plan this escape. How did it fail again?
• My stomach roiled with nausea when I heard footsteps approaching.
• There had to be at least six men in black who had kidnapped me from that airport.
• Next thing I knew my limbs were cut free from the binds and I was being dragged from the trunk by my abductors.
• “No, please!” My voice was cracked with tears of desperation. I couldn't go back to my family, knowing what awaited me was worse than death.
• “Please, let me go! Please!” I cried against the harsh grip around the base of my neck.
• My body landed against harsh wood, the painful impact was nothing compared to the terror that pulsated through me with each heartbeat.
• One moment, I was pleading, and in the next, I was blinded by a sudden strike of bright lights as my blindfold was ripped off.
• “Well, aren't you a pretty little thing, Martina Piccolo?” The twisted male voice had the hairs on my body rising.
• I blinked to clear my blurry vision and I could see the towering men surrounding me like hungry wolves.
• Six of them.
• The same number of them who had forcefully taken me from the airport, adrenaline thrummed through me, as my eyes darted frantically around what appeared to be a very beautiful modern room.
• Wait…
• I didn't recognize this place as part of our mansion, and even worse, I knew none of these dangerous-looking men.
• And Martina?
• My confused gaze lingered on the man who had spoken, cruel dark eyes, and blonde hair. He looked young too. If he wasn't working for my father or my step-brother, then who were these men?
• My mind reeled as a fresh wave of horror overwhelmed me. Were they my family's rivals and hoped to kidnap my step-sister but got me instead?
• Curse my stupid fate!
• Even now Martina Piccolo still managed to cause another problem for me.
• “I'm not Martina…”I barely managed when ‘blonde hair’’ tight fingers clenched around my throat once again.
• “Do you think I'm stupid, cunt?! Same hair, same face. You are Piccolo's blood,” He spat with a hateful confidence that sends shards of ice pricking my skin.
• No. I was wearing a wig to escape recognition from my family. Martina and I looked very much alike, no wonder these men had mistaken us.
• "I’m telling you, you've gotten the wrong person, I'm Roxanne!" I said, desperation boiling thickly in my blood.
• This was the first time I was claiming that name, since I was born all I'd ever wanted was to kill Roxanne Piccolo. To bury her in the deep grave I'd dug and completely erase her existence.
• “Shut the fuck up, bitch!” His grip tightened, choking me until my vision sparked, his teeth bared in a sneer as he growled venomously.
• My lungs burned. My nails clawed uselessly at his wrist and hot silent tears streamed down my cheeks.
• “Don’t think you can fool me, whore?!”
• He would have been handsome, perhaps, if not for the twisted ugliness of his demeanour and right now his face was contorted with entitlement and malice.
• I wanted to scream out my pain, fear and anger, but his strong hand blocked everything, I was completely under his mercy. And he completely had none.
• My attacker released his grip and turned to his companions and before I could pray for much, his companion’s next words shattered the blooming hope in my chest.
• “Come on, why are you letting go of her? Dante, your uncle will love this! Let's have a piece of pussy from Don Enzo Piccolo's daughter!”
• His words felt like a slap, for a moment, my blood felt frozen, I looked up at ‘Blond hair’’ whose name I’d just learned to be Dante, my breath coming out in short pants. I still felt as though he was in charge of the others.
• “Please, I'm really not Martina, let me go, I'm begging you!” More tears sprang in my eyes, I could see those young, eager eyes gleaming in the room, and I could feel their sick excitement.
• “I heard even the boss couldn't forget you, your cunt must be something quite special,” Dante laughed, his voice dripping with mockery.
• The boss?
• There was someone higher up controlling all of this?
• “No, I d-don't know any boss!” I croaked as fresh tears slipped from my eyes. My pleas became frantic when the man approached with a knife, he traced the knife down the front of my dress.
• “Ralph, I think we'd better wait for my uncle,” Dante said, his eyes regarding me with something resembling amusement.
• His companion didn't listen, the blade caught the light before slicing through the fabric like paper. Cool air rushed over my bare skin as the halves of my dress fell away, leaving me in just my lace panties. "Look at that," Ralph growled, his free hand squeezing my breast roughly.
• “No, don't touch me!” I cried when his thumb scraped over my nipple, and I arched away, only for another man to catch me, his fingers digging into my hips.
• "We know your uncle likes his toys clean, but he won’t notice if we just… sample first." A third man, shorter but twice as broad, licked his lips as he unbuckled his belt.
• "Fuck, her tits are perfect. Bet her cunt’s even prettier." His knuckles brushed my inner thigh, hitching my leg over his arm.
• My pulse hammered wild no, no, no!
• His other hand hooked into the waistband of my panties. I twisted, but the men holding me tightened their grip.
• "Please don't!” My voice cracked.
• "Shut her up," Ralph muttered, and the shorter man slapped a hand over my mouth. I bit hard, until I tasted metal, and a series of curses flew from his mouth as he backed away.
• “Guys wait, she's my uncle's prize…” Dante began again and I saw the moment his eyes flickered with resignation. His friends were not willing to listen.
• But, I couldn't give up like this. I had to fight, even if I knew that I wasn't going to win against five men.
• I clawed blindly at them, my nails raking their skin, my legs kicking out in frantic desperation. A sharp slap across my face silenced me for a moment, the sting radiating through my cheek.
• I could feel the knife slide lower, the tip tracing the lace between my legs. I could feel the heat of Ralph’s breath as he leaned in, his free hand tugging the fabric aside.
• "I’m sure you are pink and wet already, I guess you want it, right boys?" He laughed, mocking.
• The men surrounding me hooted in response, they shifted closer. I could hear the sound of their belts clinking and their zippers opening.
• “You should enjoy this, whore,” The shorter man chuckled again, I squeezed my eyes shut as the first thick fingers started to prod at my entrance—
• BANG.
• The gunshot shattered the air. A scream of horror tore from my mouth when blood sprayed my chest and the shorter man next to me collapsed, a knife had pierced from his back to his chest.
• Chaos erupted instantly, the hands on me disappeared and I fell hard against wood once more.
• Then, silence.
• Except for the sound of boots clicking against the floor.
• Through my blurry gaze, I could see the shadow looking at the doorway.
• "Disappointing," The male voice murmured, his voice reaching my ears like a mix of whisky and venom.
• The man was tall. Formidable looking.
• It was the long sinister-looking scar that ran along his face that grasped my attention and made my pulse spike. For some reason, my heart was racing harder than before, I could hear the sound of my blood pumping heavily in my veins.
• When I blinked again, those gazes, dark and predatory, were locked onto me.