Owned by the Mob Lord

International Waters.

Lydia Hayes was caged behind iron bars. Her face was flushed, her eyes unfocused as she tore at her bridesmaid dress.

Just as lust began to erode her sanity, Ethan Edwards slowly opened the cage.

He pulled her out, a faint smile curving his lips.

She immediately shrank back, cowering in the corner beside the bed.

A strange heat spread from her stomach through her entire body, flushing her skin an unnatural red.

She bit her lip hard, struggling to regain clarity.

Ethan stood before her, idly twirling a pistol in his hand.

Fresh from a fierce struggle, sweat dampened his temples, yet his gaze remained razor-sharp.

"I hear there's no antidote for this poison," he said, kneeling on one knee as the cold barrel traced her flushed cheek.

He held the gun in one hand while the other slid from her flushed cheek to rest against her slender neck.

Her breathing quickened despite herself.

When his palm touched her breast, a soft moan slipped from her lips, and her struggling hands slowly went slack.

He smirked and kneaded her breast with deliberate force.

Shame burned across her face as she realized her body was responding to his touch.

Her consciousness grew hazy beneath the drug's grip.

When his hand slipped beneath the fabric to caress her trembling calf, she arched her back.

Her clothes were removed piece by piece.

Her clothes came off piece by piece.

She writhed, her rationality eroding under the drug's influence.

Then he slowly dragged the muzzle along her skin.

Her breath hitched as a shiver of anticipation raced down her spine, her body already a traitor to her senses.

Intense desire drowned out her shame.

Watching her dazed eyes and parted lips, his Adam's apple bobbed.

"I want it… Please save me…" she begged, all resistance gone.

His gaze locked on her flushed skin as she writhed beneath him.

Ethan gently pried her legs apart using the barrel of his gun.

Then the condom-covered muzzle slowly pressed into her heated, slick body.

The sensation left her both ashamed and desperate.

His body had already reacted to her, fine beads of sweat forming along his temples.

Every second was a torturous test, the painful tightness in his lower body impossible to ignore.

"Faster… faster…" she pleaded, the drug stripping away her last reserve.

Sweat dripped from his taut jaw onto the sheets.

When she finally climaxed under his rapid thrusts, he nearly lost control.

He heaved ragged breaths, struggling to suppress the desire surging through him.

This fragile-looking woman had come dangerously close to breaking him.

"You're fine now. Get dressed." His voice was hoarse, barely audible, as he turned and rushed into the bathroom.

…

Hours earlier, aboard the luxury cruise ship…

Lydia finished her makeup and slipped into the bridesmaid's gown.

It was her first time being a bridesmaid for her cousin's wedding. She stepped out of the cabin in high spirits.

As she lifted her skirt to walk, chaos erupted in the ship's corridor.

Passengers fled in panic.

"What's happening?"

"All the men are being killed. The women are being taken."

Suddenly, a jarring gunshot rang out.

The groom collapsed, shot dead on the spot.

Screams tore through the luxury liner.

Before she could react, dozens of fierce, heavily armed men appeared with guns drawn. Without saying a word, they herded Lydia and several other brides into a grand ballroom that could hold thousands.

How could so many militants board the ship?

Helicopter blades thundered overhead.

Lydia curled into a corner of the ballroom, clutching her skirt with both hands.

The atmosphere in the hall was oppressive, filled with cries and whispers of fear.

Only Ethan stood apart. He lounged in a booth with one leg crossed over the other, one hand pressed to his left chest, the other draped along the seat. Even behind his sunglasses, his disdain for everyone present was unmistakable.

He had been shot. The wound sat near his heart on the left side of his chest. The bullet was laced with cobra venom.

"Is there a doctor or nurse here? Step forward!" his subordinate barked.

Everyone froze in fear, lowering their heads.

Ethan lit a cigarette and held it between his lips.

"Useless bunch," he muttered.

His subordinate understood the signal and gestured to the armed men surrounding them.

Instantly, countless gun barrels were trained on everyone in the room.

"Prepare to fire."

Just then, a trembling Indian doctor stepped forward.

"I… I'm a doctor."

The subordinate tossed him a medical kit and barked, "Get that bullet out!"

Though Ethan had already received antivenom, extracting the bullet was still extremely risky and required a highly skilled specialist.

"Bear with it. I'll administer the anesthetic immediately!" the doctor stammered.

Ethan's presence nearly suffocated him. His hands shook so badly he couldn't even steady the syringe.

Ethan's blue eyes narrowed beneath his sunglasses, his chest rising and falling slowly.

"Throw him in the water. Feed the fish." He kicked the doctor aside.

His gaze shifted to the American doctor who had stepped forward.

She gasped in terror as a splash and a brief scream echoed.

Despite facing armed murderers, she forced herself to remain professional.

She retrieved medical scissors, sterilized them, and reached for Ethan's expensive white shirt, now dark with blood around the wound.

However, Ethan grabbed the scissors. His icy stare made her tremble.

Is he planning to toss her overboard again?

In a panic, Lydia found unexpected courage. She ripped the silk ribbon from her hair, rushed forward, and blindfolded him.

As the soft silk brushed his cheek, Ethan froze. Something unfamiliar stirred in his chest.

"Why did she use a silk ribbon to blindfold him?"

"This woman is incredibly bold!"

No one understood her actions; everyone expected Ethan to explode.

Instead, he chuckled and released the scissors from the doctor's hand.

He kept the cigarette between his teeth, leaned back against the booth, and exhaled slowly.

"You have exactly ten minutes." He said it lightly, but it landed like a death sentence.