Taken By The Mafia Lord

Clara saw herself falling and squeezed her eyes shut, already prepared for the shame that came with the fall while hoping to God that nobody records this scene. It would traumatize her for the rest of her life.

But when a minute passed and she didn't fall and could only feel a strong hook around her waist, Clara knew instinctively that something happened. Surprisingly, that hook around her waist felt fleshy yet muscular and firm.

Muscular and firm?

At once, her eyes popped open only to stare straight into Marcel's face. Clara was stunned, he was the one who saved her?

Unlike the other times where Clara would have gotten out of Marcel's arms, ridden with disgust and cursing him for trying to touch her, she just gaped at him.

Clara couldn't explain it but she began to notice details about Marcel she hadn't seen till now like the way his hair was sexily tousled and some of it had fallen over his eyes when he tried to catch her. Then his eyes? It was the most beautiful and magnetic gray eyes she had ever seen.

And Clara couldn't tell if it was the lightning or adrenaline but she closely observed his gray eyes changing color to a hue of blue. She had heard that a change in the size of the pupils compresses certain colors resulting in a different but temporary hue shift in the eye color. It was amazing.

But most of all, Clara could feel the strength in his arms and she began to wonder why she never noticed her fiancé was more muscular than Luther - she loved her man strong. With those arms rippling with strength, she could only imagine what he could do with her on the...

Clara stepped back from him as if she was burned and Marcel was not even bothered by the gesture. This was not the first time he was treated to such a treatment even after saving her ass.

"Don't touch me again?!" She warned him with accusing fingers as if he tried to take advantage of her.

As if, Marcel rolled his eyes towards heaven. Why wasn't he even surprised?

"You're welcome," He said with sarcasm.

But to his surprise, she went red in the face. He snorted, so she knew how to be embarrassed?

However, unknown to Marcel, Clara was not red with shame, rather she was blushing. Marcel reminding her of the fall only brought back the crazy thoughts in her head.

While everything happened in less than a minute, it seemed like an hour to Clara considering how she was able to notice everything about him.

God, this was crazy, Clara thought as she gave Marcel a suspicious look. How sure was she that he hadn't done something to her during the fall? Why would she suddenly start thinking of him if that wasn't the case? She battled with her mind.

Marcel was surprised when Clara zoned out, it was a first. Previously, she would stomp away while cursing him in a situation like this. So why was she just standing there, staring at him that way? It was creepy, to be honest.

So he cautiously waved his hand in front of her face, "Hello? Clara?"

Clara was startled back to reality only to see Marcel's face right in front of her again. She shrieked and took a step back and stepped into a small hole. She wobbled and almost fell only for Marcel to catch her, again.

"Get your hands off me!" Clara was livid as she pushed him away from her with a great force that If Marcel didn't have enough stamina, he would have fallen to his ass.

"Well, suit yourself!" Marcel said, done with her annoying mood swings. Since she was fine on her own, he had no business looking out for her. Marcel decided as he went ahead, leaving her behind in her miserable heels.

By the time Clara got to the car, she was huffing and sweating. However she was pissed off at Marcel, how could he leave her behind?

Staring at Marcel as he entered the car without even opening the door for her reminded her of the asshole he was. Of course, she hated him! That was the answer to the question ravaging her mind.

She didn't like him one bit, the asshole must have tried to seduce her for his gain. It clicked, the reason he had her prepare for these " condolence visits" when he never even called her for once after that altercation at his father's place.

Was this the tactics he wanted to employ, to make her fall for her to please his father? Clara laughed inwardly, he was a big dreamer! Luther was the man she loved and even if they -she and Marcel- eventually marry, he would never win her heart. She bet her inheritance was his target. That power-hungry gangster!

While thinking about how Marcel planned on seducing her, Marcel in question was thinking of how to tackle his household enemies at the funeral service and get rid of Clara as well.

There was no doubt that everybody would be there to question his administration. This was their once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to gnaw on him like vultures on a carcass.

For once, Marcel began to wonder if it had been a mistake not bringing Victor along to aid him, however, he knew how easily riled Victor was by their other cousins. He was here to account for his murdered men, not to start a fight - even though they would bring it to his doorstep.

Out of the corner of his eyes, Marcel watched as Clara began to take off her heels, massaging her feet that must be throbbing.

"If you want, I could get you a flat shoe across the way?" He offered her help seeing how exhausted she was. Marcel might not like her but it was in his nature to care for women - the way his mother cared for him.

"And why would you do that for me?" She retorted.

"What?"

"Did I ask for it?"

Marcel was flustered, he was only trying to help. He wasn't a monster as she imagined him to be, "No, you didn't but I -"

Clara interrupted him, "If you think those little gestures would change my mind, then you better shove it up your ass. I don't need your help, save it!"

"I see," Marcel nodded after she was done, his lips set in a thin line. Someone would have to fend for herself from now on. He suddenly pulled up at the corner of the road without warning.

"What are you doing?" Clara was surprised by the abrupt stop, this didn't look like the venue.

"Get out!" Marcel said in a tone so cold it froze her over.

"What?" She croaked.

"You don't need me driving you because I decided to shove the favor up my ass. Now get your own ride,"

Clara's face lost color. Somebody should tell her that he was kidding her.