Surrogate To An Unhinged Mafia Boss

by Brickhouse

inhaled deeply, steeling myself, and walked inside. “You don’t see me as a person, do you?” My voice was calm, but the anger beneath it was real. He didn’t look up immediately, just kept typing, but his jaw tightened. I stepped closer. “I’m just another piece in your chess game—your queen when it suits you, your pawn when it doesn’t.” That made him look up. His dark eyes pierced into mine, unreadable, intense. “Is that what you think?” His voice was smooth, dangerous. “That I need you to remind me of your worth? If I didn’t see value in you, I wouldn’t have wasted my time.” I let out a bitter laugh, shaking my head. “Value? Like a piece of real estate?” I stepped closer, fist aching to punch him in his shit. “Newsflash, Bankston—I don’t belong to you.” He stood. Slowly. Deliberately. His towering presence made my breath catch, but I held my ground. He took a step forward, closing the space between us, his expression calm but his energy consuming. “Don’t you?” he murmured. “Because you’re here, in my home, wearing my ring, playing this game just as much as I am.” Before I could respond, his hand came up, wrapping around my throat. Not roughly, but with just enough pressure to make my pulse skyrocket. My lips parted, but no words came out. His eyes locked onto mine, dark and impossible to read. The air crackled with tension, thick and undeniable. “You don’t own me,” I whispered. His lips curled into a slow, knowing smirk. “Then stop looking at me like you want me to.” My bre...

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