Claimed by my Mafia Step Brother
Jay Mia · Ongoing · 100.2k Words
Introduction
One reckless night. One wrong door. One encounter I was never supposed to survive.
I only wanted to forget my mother's upcoming wedding. Instead, I stumbled into a private meeting between rival mafia factions and came face-to-face with the man they call Reaper—a ruthless capo whose name alone inspires fear.
I watched him kill without hesitation. And somehow, he let me live.
By morning, I discover the reason my life will never be the same again. The notorious Damiano Giovanni isn't just the dangerous stranger who spared me. He's my new stepbrother.
Living under the same roof as him should be simple: stay out of his way, ignore the dangerous attraction simmering between us, and never remind him of the secrets we share. But Damiano has never followed rules, not even his own.
The closer he gets, the harder it becomes to remember that men like him don't love. They possess.
And when enemies begin hunting me after stepping into his dangerous world, Damiano makes one thing terrifyingly clear:
I belong to him now. He'll burn cities to protect me. Start wars to keep me.
And if I try to run?
The Reaper will come for me.
Because in the mafia, some claims are forever.
And Damiano Giovanni has decided that I'm his.
Chapter 1
Sasha Castillo
The sound of the music in the background was blaring. It coursed through my veins, and my head thrummed dully as I tilted it back, downing my sixth…or was it seventh shot of whiskey? I’m not sure. I have lost count to be honest.
As I dropped the empty tumbler aside, gesturing for the bar tender to fill it in once more, I didn’t miss the look he gave me. Drawn in brows and lips curled downwards in concern, he seemed almost reluctant to cave into my request. But he was in no place to worry about me. After the look I gave him, I guess he realized keeping his job was much better than worrying about a stranger and her attempt at ruining her health with too much alcohol.
Except, I wasn’t trying to ruin myself or anything. Rather, I was more focused on trying to forget everything on my mind-I wanted to blank out, and I was on the mission to make it happen no matter what.
“Girl, you know I normally am always on board with your suggestions…” my best friend, Bree, slurred from the stool beside mine. She was only on her second cup, and she is already wasted.
She’s a lightweight right in case you haven’t yet realized.
She shook her head, as if to rid herself off her slur, but it only had a goofy grin playing on her lips. “… but tonight, tonight I am in full support! Let’s drink our problems away.” She reached out to pick her tumbler and the remaining beer in it, before stretching her hand out, “Let’s toast to our problems. Screw my cheating ex and your mother and her wrong choices. Men are disappoints. They have always only ever been.” Her lips pressed forward into a pout, her wide, doe eyes narrowing. “How could she think of remarrying another one?”
Regardless of my state, I found myself chuckling at her words. I was the one upset about my situation, and yet she was the one sulking over both our predicaments while I was simply trying to forget it.
If I don’t recall it, then it’s not real. That’s what I am trying to get through the night with, and hopefully the morning as well.
I picked up my now refilled tumbler, realizing the bar tender had moved on to serve others down the counter. Why do I feel like he was doing that to avoid having to serve me again?
Oh whatever.
I clanked my cup with Bree’s, and the alcohol nearly spilled from mine, making us exacting a look and another fit of chuckles. Oh, we are so wasted.
I downed my cup in one shot, and form the corner of my eyes, I didn’t miss the way Bree stared at me with wide eyes, as if fascinated. Then, she made an attempt to do the same, only to end up a coughing mess.
I quickly moved close to her, patting her back as she coughed, taking the tumbler from her and keeping it aside.
“I’m good.” She wheezed out. “I’m fine. I’m alright.”
“Yeah…” I do not believe her in the slightest. She does not sound like it. “…that’s enough drinks for you tonight.”
“But I—“ she made an attempt to reach out for the tumbler.
I quickly pushed it far out of her reach, then got off my stool, swaying in my heels, my knees weakened greatly. Damn, I had underestimated the amount drinks I have had. Blinking through the blurry gaze, a pressing feeling in my bladder reminded me that I was in need of a restroom break.
“B, I need to use the restroom. Can you handle yourself here alone?” I inquired, placing my hands on her shoulder, urging her to look at me.
She lifted her swaying head up, and then she extended a hand out, giving me a thumbs up. “Yup! Worry not, Sash. I am good. I’m cool. Just go pee pee. I will be right here waiting for you to get back from the loo.”
I sighed, realizing she was far too gone. I couldn’t just leave her here.
Turning my head in the direction of the bartender, luckily enough he had turned around then. So, I gestured towards her, then added. “Can you keep an eye on her please? I will be right back.” He seemed decent enough for me to leave her to him.
He glanced at her, and his brows drew in once more—that same look of concern. He nodded regardless, and I offered him a small smile in appreciation.
Turning around once more, I made my way through the crowd of sweaty and grinding bodies on the dance floor, trying to locate the restrooms. I had seen it on our way in earlier.
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