Chapter 2 of The Mafia's Obsession [He Owned The World]

Their moment was abruptly interrupted when a man burst into the room.

"Boss, the police are here." His shattered the tension that had enveloped Hazel and Francisco.

"We need to leave immediately."

"What? How is that possible?" Another masked man questioned him.

Francisco stood still for a moment, looking at Hazel. He reluctantly pulled his hand back.

"Boss, we must leave," one of his men whispered.

Reluctantly, Francisco stepped back. Before he took his leave, he turned back to look at Hazel one last time. Hazel's eyes remained locked on his until he left the cabin.

Police officers rushed in.

"Is everyone all right?" One police officer inquired as he surveyed the room.

A exhale of relief swept through the captives. The young girl who had been clinging to Hazel, summoned the courage to speak, "Can I go to my mom?"

Hazel patted her head gently. "Now we can all go home."

The police officers worked tirelessly and help to each of the rescued girls to return to their homes.

"Sir, all of those girls were rescued," a man reported to a young officer who had recently joined the force. The young officer, Rafael, nodded in acknowledgment, "But we failed to arrest those criminals. They simply escaped."

Rafael was known among his peers for his exceptional skills. At just 22 years old, his logical analysis, sharpshooting abilities, and high IQ had earned him the under-sheriff post.

"How did they find out we were here?" Rafael asked his fellow officer.

"I feel the same way, sir. Seriously, they got away so quickly," the officer replied.

Rafael continued to move around. As he did so, another officer named Freddie approached him.

"Why do they kill their own men, sir?"

Rafael sighed and knelt down in front of one of the bodies. He responded calmly, "They are not their men, Freddie. It appears they were in a skirmish with another gang."

Freddie could not hold back his thoughts. "Cool, I wish they fought among themselves and died together. Afterward, the public could have a happy existence."

Rafael couldn't help but smile. He got to his feet and replied, "Not a bad idea, but it won't happen. Our system is also corrupted. Someone among us might have informed them."

Freddie raised an eyebrow, his gaze locked onto Rafael as he walked out of the factory.

The scene shifted to Francisco's bedroom.

Luxurious crimson curtains adorned every window of the room. The floor was crafted from gleaming marble. A grand canopy bed, draped in sumptuous silk and velvet.

Having just returned from a mission, Francisco shed his bloodstained clothes with a casual disregard. With a languid grace, he went to the washroom.

Francisco stepped into the large, elegant bathtub. As he submerged himself, the water cascaded over his body, mingling with the blood. His eyes remained closed beneath the water's surface.

A maid wiped the bloodstains from the floor. But suddenly she heard approaching footsteps. She turned her gaze toward the doorway.

She saw a woman... unexpected at that hour. The maid stammered, "Ma'am... you! At this time?"

The woman offered the maid a sweet smile.

"Where is he?"

The maid hesitated momentarily, she gestured toward the bathroom.

A knowing smile graced her lips as she received the maid's response.

That maid left the chamber too quickly.

Francisco's peaceful bath was ruined when the bathroom door opened, and she walked closer to him in the water. Just as she extended her hands towards Francisco, his eyes sprang open. He acted with swift precision, capturing her hands in his firm grasp.

"Aw!"

As their gazes locked in an intense standoff.

It was Emily.

Emily gave an audacious smile with a flirtatious wink. "Did I interrupt you, babe?" Emily asked.

Emily had long graced the pages of fashion magazines as a celebrated model. Emily's role was the mistress of Francisco, but to the outside world, she was portrayed as his girlfriend.

With a harsh push, Francisco distanced himself from Emily. "Why are you in this place? I didn't call you."

Emily's smile graced her lips as she rose from the edge of the bathtub. She pulled down her dress. Her nude figure stood before Francisco, her alluring bosom, adorned with taut buds.

With an air of confidence, she leaned seductively toward Francisco, "I am here to accompany my king."

Francisco released a heavy sigh and lowered his eyes. He remained silent. Her fingers, gentle and tantalizing, brushed against his shoulder.

"Don't you have a show tonight?" Francisco asked.

Leaning down near his ear, Emily's voice was a seductive whisper.

"I had," she confessed, "but I was unable to resist coming here after learning that my king had returned home."

Her slender fingers, slid from his shoulders to explore the contours of his muscular and irresistibly sexy chest.

He turned his head to meet her gaze. "I don't feel like talking to you right now." As Francisco rose from the bath, water cascaded in a sparkling display of droplets.

Emily took a step back.

Unable to contain herself any longer, she approached Francisco with deliberate intention. She embraced him from behind, pressing her bosom against his damp back.

She whispered softly, "Don't push me away, Francis. I will happily stay below your feet if you offer me a small space."

Francisco's expression remained unreadable.

Emily walked in front of him and knelt down, her raven eyes locked on his blue eyes. She looked at him intently as he slightly bit her lower lip. She spotted his bulge. She did not care about his stern look and carefully put it inside her mouth. She started giving him a deep throat.

After a few minutes, Francisco shut his eyes and began gagging Emily's mouth. He immediately reached his climax and filled Emily's mouth. Thereafter, he pushed Emily forward.

She plopped down on the floor, licked her lips and said, "How rude!"

Francisco cleaned himself up. As he reached for a towel, Emily turned on the shower and moved closer to him.

"When will you show affection again?"

Francisco answered while grabbing the towel, but in an irritating manner, "Go fuck yourself."

He left the bathroom, leaving Emily there. She muttered softly, "I'll wait for as long as it takes, Francis."

Francisco put on a robe and made his way to the balcony. He lit a cigarette.

He inhaled deeply then exhaled a slow, smoky sigh. Francisco's mind was consumed by the memory of the girl, those green eyes.

"Three years ago, you saved my life, and I've been looking for you ever since, but I couldn't find you. But today, I'm seeing you again... though I never imagined it would be like this. I can't be sure if I'm right or wrong, but I remember those eyes. They were like a rare gem in the midst of chaos. Your hair was shorter back then, but something about you feels unmistakably familiar," Francisco thought.

Just then Emily's voice broke through his though, pulling him back to the present. "What are you thinking?"

Francisco took a moment to respond. "Nothing."

Emily giggled. "Are you trying to trick me? Francis, you can fool everyone, but not me."

She made a move to touch him but he swiftly turned, "I don't like it when someone touches me without my permission."

Emily stepped back. It was a familiar scenario for her.

Francisco never publicly backed Emily's modeling career, but everyone knew his influence helped her become famous. People saw her as powerful and mysterious because she was with the gangster.

Emily refused to leave Francisco's life because she couldn't bear to lose him. Their relationship was complicated, but she couldn't let go. And the reason was, she loved him.