His Mafia Captor

His Mafia Captor Leo Rivers Copyright © 2023 by Leo Rivers All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. Contents 1. Chapter 1 2. Chapter 2 3. Chapter 3 4. Chapter 4 5. Chapter 5 6. Chapter 6 7. Chapter 7 8. Chapter 8 9. Chapter 9 10. Chapter 10 11. Chapter 11 12. Chapter 12 Chapter one Ollie Petrov slumped against the cold concrete wall of the parking garage, his breath leaving a faint fog as it escaped his chapped lips. The weight of another monotonous day as a software engineer pressed down on his shoulders, making them sag with exhaustion. His body ached for the relief of sleep, but he dreaded returning to the empty apartment that awaited him. As he closed his eyes, he couldn't help but imagine what it would be like to come home to a warm embrace, to have someone waiting for him with open arms and a tender smile. The thought of having a partner who understood him, who shared his hopes and dreams, brought a flicker of longing to Ollie's tired eyes. All those typical scenes of domestic bliss—a candlelit dinner shared with laughter and intimate conversations, lazy Sunday mornings tangled in the sheets, and stolen kisses in the quiet moments… They weren't ever going to be for him. He forced a smile onto his face, the cheerful facade like a mask he wore to hide the bone-deep loneliness that gnawed at his heart. It had become second nature to him, this practiced act of feigning happiness. As Ollie pushed himself away from the wall and began to make his way through the dimly lit garage, the echo of his footsteps filled the space. "Going somewhere?" a voice growled, his voice low and dangerous. Suddenly, the shadows seemed to come alive. A large, muscular man with a wolf-like grin materialized before him, his imposing figure blocking Ollie's path. Ollie's heart hammered in his chest, fear constricting his throat. He tried to step back, but the stranger was too quick, grabbing Ollie's wrist in an iron grip. Panic surged through him, and without thinking, Ollie swung his free arm at the man's face, desperate for escape. "Nice try," the man chuckled darkly, easily dodging Ollie's clumsy attempt. With surprising speed, the man twisted Ollie's arm behind his back, forcing him to his knees. The pain was sharp and intense, but Ollie refused to cry out. He wouldn't give this man the satisfaction of hearing his fear. "Let me go!" Ollie spat, his voice trembling only slightly. He shouldn't have bothered. The man--this predator--merely grinned wider, revealing a row of perfectly white teeth. It was a grin that promised nothing but danger. "Sorry, sweetheart," he said mockingly as he bound Ollie's hands together. "You're coming with me." The man yanked him to his feet and shoved him into the back of the van that had been parked next to his. It was the oldest trick in the book. Hadn't Ollie's father drilled him about this exact thing? Even as a kid, he'd lectured Ollie about basic security. And Ollie had failed him--again. Despite his fear, Ollie tried one last time to break free, using every ounce of strength in his wiry frame to wrench himself from his kidnapper's grasp. But it was no use; the man was simply too strong. As the van's doors slammed shut, plunging Ollie into darkness, he couldn't help but think of the empty apartment that had awaited him. The loneliness that had seemed so unbearable suddenly paled in comparison to the terror that now gripped him. And as the van rumbled to life, carrying him away from his old life and towards an uncertain fate, Ollie fought back tears, the cheerful facade slipping away as easily as the smile that had once adorned his face. The van swerved through the darkened streets, jolting Ollie against the cold metal walls. The acrid scent of fear and sweat permeated the air, mingling with the lingering aroma of oil and gasoline. He could feel his pulse quicken, a frantic staccato against his throat. He struggled to find purchase on the slippery floor beneath him, looking for something, anything to use... "Don't try anything clever," a gravelly voice growled, startling Ollie. "Just stay down." Squinting in the dim light, Ollie saw the man's eyes glimmer like obsidian, sharp and unyielding. His muscular frame loomed tall in the driver's seat, filling the cramped space with an oppressive presence that left Ollie feeling powerless and exposed. "Who are you?" Ollie croaked, his mouth dry from fear. "What do you want with me?" "Name's Toro Castillo," he replied, a wicked smile creeping across his face. "I'm with the Toscano family. And you, kid, have the bad luck to be born a Petrov." Ollie's heart twisted in his chest. The reality of his situation was becoming painfully clear. The Toscanos were the Petrovs' sworn enemies, two ruthless Mafia families locked in an endless power struggle. And now, he'd fallen right into their hands. "Your daddy's gonna pay handsomely to get you back," Toro continued, his voice dripping with malice. "And if not, well... there are other ways to make use of a pretty little thing like you." A shiver ran down Ollie's spine, his bound hands trembling. Desperation clawed at his thoughts, urging him to fight, to scream, to do anything to escape the nightmare that was unfolding around him. But he knew, deep down, that it was futile; there was no escaping. Not for a failure like him. "Please," Ollie whispered, his voice barely audible even to himself. "Don't do this." But Toro only laughed, the sound harsh and guttural as it echoed through the van. "You think you can beg your way out of this? You think turning on the waterworks is gonna change my mind?" Keeping one eye on the road, he leaned