Claimed by the Mafia Don Chapter 2: A Car Ride

STEFANO RUSSO (NERO) POV

I leaned against the car, smoke curling from the tip of my cigarette, watching Bull drag her out of the bar. She fought him the whole way—kicking, clawing, even sinking her teeth into his arm at one point.

"Let go!" She yelled struggling with him. "I don’t know that man. I don’t know the money he’s talking about!"

My lips curved into a small smile.

Feisty. I like that.

Most won scread, begged, collapsed the second my n laid hands on them. Not her. She fought like soone who had sothing worth protecting. Or maybe she just hated being told what to do.

"I said, let go!" She hit his arm.

By the ti they reached , Bull shoved her forward and she stumbled hard. I straightened just in ti to catch her before she hit the ground. My hand locked around her shoulders, steadying her, but she shoved off as if my touch burned.

"Don’t touch !" she barked, eyes blazing.

I blinked, surprised. Nobody talked to like that. Not won. Not n. Not anyone who wanted to live long.

For a mont, I almost laughed. Almost.

She spun toward the bar again, but one sharp nod from had Bull seizing her arms, pinning them behind her back. He forced her down to her knees on the gravel, her white hair falling wild around her face. She was still struggling, still fighting, making her white shirt dirty.

"Let go!" she scread, voice ragged now.

I walked to her slowly, each step asured. I wasn’t a man given to small talk, and patience wasn’t a gift I handed out. Squatting so we were eye-to-eye, I kept my voice low and even. "Darling," I said, the word as flat as a blade, "if I were you, I wouldn’t put up a fight."

Her chin lifted. Her brown eyes were rimd red, wild and furious.

"Now be a good girl and get in the damn car," I said coldly.

"Never," she spat. "I’m not going anywhere with you. You’ll have to kill first."

I tilted my head, studying her. Did she even know who I was? What I could do to her?

Sothing stirred in my chest. Interest. Amusent. Maybe a touch of admiration. Not easily broken, that was rare.

I stood slowly and reached for the Glock tucked into the back of my waistband. Just a smooth motion, the way my hand always moved when I ant business. Steel t her gaze, and I felt the shift in the air. Her shoulders trembled. Her breath hitched, but she didn’t look away. She didn’t scream; she only breathed sharper. Fear is loud in small ways.

"I said, be a good girl," I said softly, my tone razor-sharp, "and listen to daddy. Or I’ll end your life right here and won’t blink twice." I cocked the gun; the sound was small and final. Her body shook now, the bravado cracking. That look, of soone suddenly realising the cost, was the one I saw now.

Bull loosened his hold on my silent command. "Up," I said.

She rose slowly, dignity folding in on itself with every inch. I opened the passenger door.

"Get in."

She slid in like a shutter closing, hands trembling against her knees.

When I snapped the door shut and slid behind the wheel, the car took on her scent. Sothing faint and floral that didn’t belong in my world. She pressed her forehead to the glass and a low, broken sound ca out of her. I didn’t say anything. I started the engine and drove.

I hadn’t ant to take her. I hadn’t even planned on involving her. Hell, I knew she wasn’t lying about not knowing the bastard who sold her out. I could tell by the way her eyes widened, confused, scared, like betrayal was sothing she was only just learning to recognize.

But there was sothing about her. Sothing untouched, unspoiled. Innocent. Feisty, even in fear.

That’s why she was here now, sitting beside . Not because I am soft. Not because I wanted her. But because she had the attitude that just made interested in her. And maybe, just maybe, because she reminded of my mother.

I glanced at her again. She was staring out the window still. It was then her stomach rumbled.

"Hungry?" I asked slowly even if I knew I shouldn’t be asking.

"No." Her soft answer ca even without looking at .

I inhaled. Seems like I’m being too harsh on her. I exhaled again, trying again. "What will you eat?" I asked, trying to help my voice from sounding cold but it was impossible.

"I said I am not hungry," She said.

I gritted my teeth, flexing my hands on the steering wheel until my knuckles whitened. She wasn’t making this easy. My temper surged, but I swallowed it down, trying to calm down. With one hand, I grabbed my phone and dialed.

"Hey, man..." I spoke flatly when he picked. "I need to place an order... dium pizza. Coke and water. I’ll pick it up myself."

I hung up, dropped the phone back and turned to her slowly. This ti her attention was on the road. I exhaled, thinking of a possible way to start a conversation but nothing was clicking.

Then I heard her ask softly, "Will you kill ?"

I turned to her, surprised by her boldness to ask. I turned back to the road and answered, "No..." I paused and said. "If you behave."

It was then she turned to , her brown eyes scanning and then looking back at the road.

I didn’t say anything again. Minutes later, the glow of a pizza shop broke the line of neon ahead. I pulled skillfully into the lot, killed the engine, and reached for my phone.

"I’m outside," I said.

Another minutes later, a kid in a pizza uniform ca jogging over with a box balanced on one hand. I took it through the window.

"How much?" I asked.

"Two thousand."

I pulled out a wad of notes, handed them over without blinking. "Keep the change."

The kid grinned wide. "Thanks, boss." He disappeared back into the shop.

I passed the box to her, she took it from , hesitant. "Eat," I said strapping my seat belt.

When I started to pull away, I caught her staring at , her surprise written plain across her face. I smirked and continued driving.

I drove past a donut stall and then a fruit cart. She leaned toward the window, her eyes brightening in a way I hadn’t seen before, as if she might jump out if I stopped long enough. Then she patted at her pockets, searching.

"What is it?" I asked, cutting my eyes toward her. "What do you want? Donuts? Fruit?"

She turned to as if scared to speak up before she slowly said, "Both."

The corners of my mouth twitched.

"But I left my wallet at the bar—"

"That’s alright," I cut in, my tone firm but easy. "It’s covered."

She smiled small, and before she could say anything, I twisted the wheel hard. The tires screeched against the asphalt as I pulled a sharp turn, doubling back toward the stalls like so street racer.

Her gasp filled the car. She clutched the seat, wide-eyed. "What the—"

I only smirked.

In monts, I eased the car beside the donut stand and rolled down the window. "Yo, boss. My girlfriend’s craving your donuts. How much?"

She froze, blinking at like I’d just spoken a foreign language.

"Fifteen hundred, sir," the vendor replied.

I turned to her, calm. "How many do you want?"

"O...one," she stamred.

"One it is." I smiled faintly, handed over the cash, and passed the package to her.

She held it carefully, like it was sothing precious, while I moved the car a little further to the fruit cart. "Go on," I said. "Order."

She hesitated, glancing between and the vendor. "Um... can I just get an orange?"

I gave her a long look. "Just that?"

She nodded slow.

For a second, I just stared at her before turning back to the vendor. "How much?"

"Two hundred," the woman said.

Without a flicker of hesitation, I peeled off the bills and handed them over. "Keep the change."

The mont I started the car again, I felt her gaze on . When I glanced over, she was looking puzzled.

"What?" I asked.

"Seems like you love giving out money," she said, accusing.

I shrugged, steering one-handed, a faint smirk tugging at my mouth.