Mafia King's Contract Breeder

Emmanuel POV

The insistent vibration of my phone woke me up.

I looked at it as I sat up — it was Dover’s name on the screen, and he had already tried to call me three times. A faint crease formed between my brows as I answered.

I usually slept so lightly that any noise could wake me. Crime never sleeps, and neither do I.

"Yes?"

"We’ve got a problem, Boss," Dover said gravely. "There’s been a fire at the Docks. Two of our men dead. The latest shipment from Colombia is burning up. And it’s starting to attract attention."

I sat up in my bed.

The latest shipment from Colombia was several hundred kilograms of premium grade cocaine, transported through one of my many seemingly respectable import and export firms.

From the docks, the shipment would be distributed into the hands of various dealers, turning millions of dollars worth of profit for Sagres Enterprises.

A fire.

They had taken out my men, which meant that this was not a mere accident. Someone had identified the shipment belonging to Sagres Enterprises, taken out my guards, and given the fire enough time to do irreversible damage.

Worse, the authorities had arrived with suspicious speed. Most of the nearby precincts were already on my payroll; a tip-off was the only logical explanation.

"Are you at the docks?" I asked Dover, moving over to my wardrobe.

"On my way," Dover replied. "I’ve brought a team with me. We’ll be there within ten minutes."

"Good," I nodded. "I will be there soon. Try to salvage what you can, and see if you can find clues on who did this."

"I can already hear the siren from the fire department and the police — they will have questions."

"Hold them off until I get there," I replied. "I will make a few calls."

I was halfway out the door of the penthouse when a different thought cut through the sharp focus of business.

My little pet.

Last night I had put a plug inside her, and told her not to remove it until I did so myself. I had planned to do so in the morning, maybe draw it out and tease her a little, reinforce the control that I had begun to establish.

But with the fire at the docks, it was likely that I would be out all day in damage control mode.

I pressed the button for the 87th floor before continuing down to the car park.

Compared to an attack on the shipyard and millions in losses, toying with my pet ought to take a distant second place.

And yet.

It had taken considerable effort to make her truly surrender. The consistency of that control was something I found myself reluctant to interrupt.

Ricci appeared from his bedroom as soon as I came into the staff quarters, despite the early hour.

"Sir? What can I do for you?" he asked, buttoning up his shirt hastily.

I waved him aside.

"I will be out for a long time today," I told him, "Take care of the household."

Ricci eyed me as I stopped outside Lara’s bedroom.

"Yes, Boss! Of course," he said, wisely disappearing again.

I turned the door handle and let myself inside.

The room was dark, heavy curtains drawn against the approaching dawn. I knew the layout by heart—every staff room was identical, functional and deliberately neutral. Lara’s, however, was already a mess. Dresses and empty hangers were tossed over a chair instead of hanging properly in the wardrobe. Heels lay kicked off near the bathroom door. A half-drunk mug of tea sat forgotten on the coffee table, a faint ring already marking the surface.

What terrible habits. Ones I ought to correct.

She was too far from my reach, the thought occurred to me.

When I had first arranged for a contract breeder, I had expected her to remain in her place—come when summoned, stay out of sight when not required. A simple, convenient arrangement.

I had not expected her to be...such a handful.

Nor had I expected to find the process of taming her to be quite so entertaining.

Lara was burrowed under the sheets, curled up on her side, fast asleep. I stepped up to the side of the bed and looked down, watching her chest rise and fall slowly, peacefully.

Pinching the edge of the sheet between two fingers, I dragged it back inch by careful inch.

Her naked breasts were revealed first—soft, full, the nipples already faintly peaked from the cool air. Then the elegant dip of her waist. The smooth line of her hip.

Did she usually sleep naked? I wondered.

The girl made a soft, unconscious sound and rolled onto her back, one leg kicking restlessly against the mattress. Her red hair spilled across the pillow in a wild tangle.

What would it take to wake her?

The fire at the docks still waited. Millions in losses. Dead men. Questions that needed answering.

But...I could spare a few minutes for a private game.

I straddled her naked body on the bed with a sly smile, kneeling over her without putting my weight on her.

Lara did not stir.

Lightly, I laid a hand over the warm curve of her breast. When she still did not wake, I stroked downward—following the soft line of her waist, the dip of her hip—until my fingers trailed between her legs. I feathered them over her cunt lips and felt the firm edge of the plug still seated deep inside her.

Good girl.

I began to pet her properly. My hands moved slowly over her soft, sleep-warmed skin, lightly kneading her breasts, rolling a nipple between my fingers until it hardened fully.

Lower, I rubbed slow, deliberate circles over her clit, feeling her body respond even in sleep. Moisture gathered under my fingertips. Her hips gave a tiny, unconscious shift.

A soft moan escaped her throat.

Her eyelids began to flutter.

I pressed my fingers against her clit more firmly. Her hips jerked.

Lara’s eyes fluttered open. She blinked up at me as though uncertain if this was reality, or if she was still in a dream.

Was she dreaming of her master, then?

"Eeeek!!" Lara cried out.

The sound tore out of her the moment full awareness hit. She exploded into motion, one knee shooting upward between my legs with vicious accuracy.

Why was that always her signature move?

I twisted just in time, narrowly avoiding a direct hit. Instead of irritation, something close to amusement flickered through me. I kept finding her little rebellions entertaining rather than tiresome—another deviation from every carefully laid plan I had ever made for a woman in her position.

I slammed my weight down, pinning her fully to the mattress before she could try again. My body covered hers completely, chest to chest, thighs bracketing her hips.

"Shhh," I murmured against her ear.

Through the thin fabric of my shirt, I could feel her heart thudding wildly beneath me.

So alive. So interesting.

"E-Emmanuel?" she gasped. "What are you doing here?!"

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