Mated To The Mafia Werewolves

Paolo paced nervously, his gaze repeatedly drawn to Arabella, securely bound to the chair. At first glance, she seemed unconscious, her head hanging limply, but a closer look revealed that she was simply staring down.

“How much longer do we have to wait?” he inquired of Alessia, who had resumed her position inside the pentagram.

“A few more minutes or the ritual will be incomplete,” Alessia replied.

Despite the requirement for a special full moon, she had assured them of conjuring the moon to ensure the ritual’s success. However, the actual full moon was still two weeks away, and Paolo couldn’t afford to wait.

“Should I resort to force to speed things up?” Paolo clenched his teeth and advanced toward Arabella.

“I’ll break ten fingers and ten toes if you lay a hand on her,” Sandro declared, suddenly appearing in the doorway.

“Sandro,” Arabella smiled, relief washing over her at the sight of him. Although she had never been particularly thrilled to see him before, his presence now offered a welcome reprieve.

Sandro’s eyes scanned Arabella, still tied to the chair. He moved towards her, but Paolo intercepted him.

“How did you get here without alerting anyone?” Paolo questioned, scrutinizing Sandro.

“I may act impulsively, but I’m not foolish,” Sandro explained.

He had avoided entering the house immediately upon arrival at the mansion, aware that doing so would risk catching him off-guard. Instead, he focused on disabling the guards and destroying CCTV cameras around the mansion.

“I see,” Paolo chuckled.

Sandro sidestepped Paolo, heading toward Arabella with urgency.

“Are you alright?” Sandro asked.

“I am,” she replied, then added, “However, I need to get out of this.”

“Why the heck did you leave without telling anyone?” Sandro’s tone was furious, catching Arabella off guard. She wasn’t expecting anything less.

“Why would you risk your life to be here? You didn’t even tell me anything,” Sandro’s eyes narrowed as he observed Paolo’s movements toward them, conversing with Alessia.

“He threatened to kill everyone in the Villa; he threatened to kill you,” Arabella whispered the last sentence, but he heard her.

He never thought Arabella was that stupid to have left anyway; he knew Paolo had cunningly made her leave.

“He said he had you, and I thought he truly did. Perhaps I should have tried harder to reach you, but I couldn’t,” she glanced at him.

Arabella cared about him, and he felt the same way about her, even though both of them were too stubborn to admit it.

For the first time, he studied her face and noticed the red lines marking it. “How many times did he hit you?” he asked.

Arabella bit her lower lip, shaking her head. “Bella,” Sandro whispered harshly. “How many times did he hit your face?”

“Twice, Sandro,” Arabella sniffled as tears clouded her vision. She didn’t hold them back, letting them pour down her cheeks.

“He pulled my hair, slapped me twice, kicked me, as well as ripped my top. He said he wanted to fuck and make me look like a whore,” she finished, sobbing.

She didn’t care if she was being petty, listing all that Paolo had said to her; she wanted him to feel as much pain as he had inflicted on her.

Sandro swiftly retrieved a pocket knife from his pants, placing it in her hand. He then removed his jacket, wrapping it around her protectively before advancing towards Paolo, who was still engrossed in conversation with Alessia.

“For touching you, he deserves a few punches, and I’ll make sure he regrets even thinking of you like that,” Sandro cracked his knuckles.

“Are you done chatting with your girl?” Paolo asked, closing the distance between them.

“I’m lenient, De Luca. I don’t kill without letting someone say goodbye to their loved ones,” Sandro replied, discarding his jacket.

He then turned to Alessia, instructing, “Don’t let her do anything stupid. If she does, kill her!”

“Over my dead body, will I let that happen!” Sandro lunged forward, colliding with Paolo.

Paolo grunted, gripping Sandro’s torso and throwing him across the room. Sandro collided with a pillar, groaning.

“Sandro!” Arabella yelled as Paolo advanced.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” he reassured but grunted as Paolo’s fist connected with his cheek.

“Always pay attention when I speak,” Paolo admonished.

“Bastard!” Sandro spat out blood.

Paolo aimed another blow, but Sandro deftly redirected it, their confrontation intensifying. Meanwhile, Alessia lingered near Arabella, her hand in her hair.

Sandro believed Arabella could handle Alessia, but he wondered why she allowed herself to be beaten. Perhaps she had a reason.

Dodging Paolo’s incoming fist, Sandro swung in the air, landing a kick on Paolo’s chest, causing him to stagger backward.

“Let’s play, sister,” Alessia suggested, twirling Arabella’s hair.

“I’d rather eat cow dung than play with you,” Arabella hissed, her hand on the knife as she attempted to free herself.

It was fortunate that Alessia hadn’t enchanted the rope, and she remained unaware of Arabella’s actions beneath Sandro’s jacket.

“I can make you eat cow dung,” Alessia threatened.

“I made you eat it twice,” Arabella retorted with sass.

Alessia snarled, tightening her grip on Arabella’s hair. “That’s because I wasn’t giving my all!” she glared.

“Then you should know, as always, I won’t be holding back!” Arabella shoved Alessia backward, letting Sandro’s jacket fall to her feet.

She tossed the loosened rope aside, surprising Alessia, whose eyes widened as she gazed at Arabella. The cunning witch hadn’t realized she was freeing herself; she assumed it was due to being cold, hence the jacket draped over her.

“I’m going to kill you, Arabella. I trained well with Paolo,” Alessia threatened.

“You mean him riding you from behind? He’s old enough to be your grandfather!” Arabella slapped Alessia’s clenched fist, countering her approach. She kicked Alessia’s knee, causing the latter to stumble and grip her injured knee.

“You’re one to talk? You slept with two best friends. How confused can you be about your feelings?” Alessia scowled.

“I’m not confused about my feelings,” Arabella mumbled. She had always felt something for Sandro, but he had been mean, and she never wanted him to treat her as if he owned her.

Alessia stepped backward, hands spread out. “I might not win in hand-to-hand combat, but I’ll use my powers to annihilate you, Bella!”

Sandro intervened, ramming into Alessia from behind, rendering her unconscious. “Always watch your back. You might end up getting killed instead,” he advised.

Arabella stifled a laugh as Alessia fell to the ground. It wasn’t funny, but at the same time, it was.Content is © 2024 NôvelDrama.Org.

She moved towards Alessia but halted as various members of the Salvatore mansion emerged from their hiding spots.

“What the hell?” Sandro panted, his gaze shifting to Arabella.

“Attack and kill both of them!” Paolo ordered, sprinting towards the exit.

“Can you handle all?” Sandro asked, his eyes fixed on Paolo as he ran.

“What? No!” Arabella exclaimed. She couldn’t even use her powers. How was she going to defeat the hundreds of werewolves currently before her?

“I’ll be right back,” Sandro stated, running off as well.

“Isn’t that great?” Arabella gritted her teeth. She had hoped he would stay behind to assist her, but now she was left with no choice but to face them alone. It was either fight or get killed. That was the situation she was in, and she would rather fight until she couldn’t anymore.