The Mob Queen Wants to Claim Me for Herself (In a Reverse World)

I’m having a panic attack.

My heart hammers against my ribcage like it’s trying to break free, each thunderous beat reverberating through my entire body. The pristine white comforter beneath me feels too soft, too clean, too perfect, a stark contrast to the horror show replaying on endless loop behind my eyelids every time I blink.

Severed hand. Blood pooling. Bone fragments gleaming white amid red carnage.

‘I cannot stay here.’

I clutch a pillow to my chest, hugging it so tightly my arms ache as if this feather-stuffed square might somehow shield me from the violence I’ve witnessed. I’m sitting up in the massive king bed of Caterina’s… Our penthouse, my back pressed against the headboard, knees drawn up in a pathetic attempt to make myself smaller.

‘I gotta get the fuck out of here.’

My breath comes in short, painful gasps that don’t seem to deliver any oxygen to my screaming lungs. Black spots dance at the edges of my vision, expanding and contracting with each labored inhale.

Maddy sits awkwardly in a plush armchair in the corner of the bedroom, her long legs crossed at the ankle, hands folded neatly in her lap. She looks completely out of place.

“I’m really sorry you saw that, Adam,” she says, breaking the silence that’s stretched between us since we arrived at the penthouse forty minutes ago. Her voice is quiet, carrying a note of genuine regret that surprises me.

My laugh comes out as a strangled, hysterical sound that bears no resemblance to actual mirth. “Sorry, I saw it? What about sorry it happened at all?”

Maddy shifts in her seat, uncomfortable with my question. Her green eyes meet mine briefly before darting away, finding sudden interest in the abstract painting hanging on the far wall.

“They weren’t going to kill her, though,” she offers after a moment as if this somehow makes everything better.

I stare at her, my jaw dropping slightly at the absurdity of her statement. “Really?” The word comes out sharper than I intended, dripping with disbelief.

Maddy shifts again, her usual confidence faltering under my incredulous gaze.

“I don’t know,” she finally admits, her shoulders slumping slightly. “This life... it’s complicated. Sometimes things happen that aren’t... ideal.”

“Not ideal?” I repeat, my voice rising with hysterical disbelief. “She cut off a woman’s hand! With a meat cleaver!”

Maddy winces at my description, but before she can formulate a response, the distant sound of the elevator doors opening catches our attention. The mechanical whirr followed by a soft ding feels bizarrely mundane after everything that’s happened.

Quick, frantic footsteps follow. The bedroom door flies open, revealing Caterina, slightly out of breath, her golden hair falling loose from its usual perfect arrangement. Her crimson eyes immediately find me, widening with concern as she takes in my huddled form.

“Maddy, out,” she commands, her eyes never leaving my face.

Maddy rises immediately, heading for the door without a word of protest. She pauses briefly in the doorway, throwing me one last apologetic glance before disappearing from sight.

Caterina approaches the bed slowly, her movements measured as if approaching a frightened animal. Without a word, she reaches down and lifts me from the bed with surprising ease, one arm supporting my back, the other under my knees.

“Wait, wait, what?” I sputter as she carries me toward the en-suite bathroom, my arms dropping the pillow.

She carries me into the bathroom, cradling me against her chest like I weigh nothing. The massive en-suite bathroom gleams with marble and chrome under soft recessed lighting, dominated by a sunken tub large enough to qualify as a small pool.

“We’re taking a bath,” she announces, her voice gentle but leaving no room for argument.

“I’m having a panic attack,” I gasp, my chest still tight.

“I thought you might be,” she says, setting me down carefully on the edge of the tub. Her crimson eyes study my face with an intensity that feels almost clinical. “Let me take care of you then, Adam.”

She turns on the faucet for the bath and then looks back to me.

She reaches for the buttons of my ruined white suit jacket, her fingers working with practiced efficiency. I sit there, passive and trembling, as she methodically undresses me like a child.

“Just breathe with me,” she says while sliding the jacket from my shoulders. “In through your nose, out through your mouth.”

I try to follow her instructions, but my mind keeps circling back to that room, to Camila’s severed hand, to the blood pooling on plastic sheeting. What other methods did they use to make her talk? Did they take more pieces? Did they…

“Stop,” Caterina says firmly, her hands pausing on the buttons of my shirt. “I can see you spiraling. Come back to me.”

Her fingers resume their work, slipping each button free with careful precision. The shirt joins the jacket on the floor, followed by my undershirt. The cool air of the bathroom raises goosebumps across my bare chest.

“Focus on right now,” she says, unbuckling my belt with a metallic clink that seems obscenely loud in the quiet bathroom. “Just this moment. You and me.”

She tugs my pants down, guiding me to lift first one foot, then the other. My socks follow, peeled away with surprising tenderness. Finally, she hooks her fingers into the waistband of my underwear, pulling them down.

I sit naked and vulnerable on the edge of the massive tub, shivering despite the bathroom’s warmth. Caterina stands, her crimson eyes never leaving mine as she begins to undress herself.

‘I have to get the fuck out of here. That was normal for her. She isn’t even the slightest upset about this. I’m just a normal guy.’

She unbuttons her white suit jacket with practiced efficiency, shrugging it off her shoulders before folding it carefully and placing it on the marble counter.

Caterina loosens her tie with one fluid motion, sliding the silken material from around her neck and draping it beside her jacket. Her fingers move to the buttons of her crisp white shirt, unfastening them one by one with deliberate slowness. The fabric parts to reveal smooth, pale skin underneath.

She peels the shirt away, adding it to the growing pile of fabric on the counter. Her body is all elegant lines and subtle curves, powerful yet sexy. The black bra she wears is simple and functional, no lace or frills, just clean lines against her skin.

Her trousers come next, sliding down long legs to pool at her feet. She steps out of them gracefully, bending to retrieve them before folding them with the same careful precision as her jacket. Her matching black underwear is equally simple, equally practical.

With a single motion, she reaches behind her back and unhooks her bra, letting it fall away to reveal breasts that would normally capture my complete attention. She slips her underwear off, stepping out of them with the casual confidence of someone completely comfortable in their own skin.

She stands before me, fully naked. Golden hair cascades over her shoulders. Her skin is flawless, unmarked by the violence that her hands have inflicted.

But even her perfect body isn’t able to take me out of my panicked stupor. My eyes see her, but my mind is elsewhere, still trapped in that room with its plastic sheeting and pooling blood.

‘I should run away right now.’ My body doesn’t move.

Caterina leans over to test the water, dipping her fingers into the rising steam. She nods to herself, apparently satisfied with the temperature. She steps into the massive tub, lowering herself into the water with a soft sigh. She arranges herself along the length of the bath, her body partially submerged in the rising water.

She reaches her hand to me, palm up in silent invitation. “Please come in, Adam,” she says, her voice gentle but firm, an anchor in the storm of my thoughts.

I nod, feeling lost. My body moves on autopilot, one leg and then the other stepping into the warm water. I sink down, allowing Caterina to guide me until I’m sitting between her legs, my back against her chest. Her arms wrap around me, holding me securely as the water continues to rise around us.

The warmth of the water seeps into my skin, but it doesn’t reach the frozen core of terror lodged in my chest. Caterina’s body is pressed against mine, her breasts soft against my back, her legs cradling mine in the rising water. The bathroom is silent except for our breathing and the gentle lapping of water against porcelain.

Her arms tighten around me, pulling me closer until there’s no space left between us. I can feel her heartbeat against my spine, steady and strong, while mine continues its frantic pace.

“It’s okay to cry,” she whispers, her breath warm against my ear. Her fingers trace idle patterns across my chest, gentle circles that somehow manage to avoid feeling sexual despite our naked bodies pressed together. “Let it out, Adam.”

“I don’t need to cry,” I respond automatically, my voice sounding hollow. My body feels disconnected from me, like I’m piloting it remotely from somewhere far away.

She doesn’t argue, doesn’t push. Instead, her hand moves up to stroke my hair, fingers threading through the damp strands with hypnotic regularity.

“Then just melt into me, baby,” she murmurs, her voice a velvet caress. “Just close your eyes and imagine us becoming one. Let my strength become yours.”

Her body feels like an anchor holding me to reality when everything else is spinning out of control.

“I can’t stop seeing it,” I whisper, the words escaping before I can trap them behind my teeth. “That hand, just... falling. The blood. Her screams.”

Caterina’s body stiffens slightly against mine, but her voice remains gentle when she speaks.

“I know,” she says simply. “The first time is always the hardest.”

The casual way she says it, like witnessing dismemberment is just another life milestone, like getting your driver’s license or beating your first Fromsoftware game, sends a fresh wave of panic through me.

“The first time?” I repeat, my voice cracking. “You think there’s going to be more times?”

She shushes me gently as she starts to kiss my nape. Her mouth travels lower, finding the sensitive spot where my neck meets my shoulder. The gentle press of her lips sends an involuntary shiver through me despite my distress. She works her way along the curve of my neck, each kiss deliberate and slow.

“Cat,” I say, my voice wavering as I struggle to maintain my focus through the pleasant sensation of her mouth on my skin, “I’m not confident I’m cut out to handle this kind of life.”

‘She’ ’s not going let me go after the four months, I just know it.’

Her kisses pause momentarily. I feel her smile against my skin before she continues her gentle assault, teeth grazing lightly over my body. “You’re strong, Adam,” she whispers between kisses, her breath hot against my damp skin. “Stronger than you know.”

I shake my head, water droplets flying from my hair. “I’m just a Costco guy,” I insist, the words spilling out in desperate confession. “I know Rizzler lore. This isn’t me.”

Her movements still completely. I feel her body shift behind me as she leans around to look at my face, her crimson eyes narrowed in confusion.

“What’s a Rizzler?” she asks, her head tilted slightly to one side.

‘Not even the Rizzler is safe from this godless world.’

I sigh deeply, the sound echoing against the marble walls of the bathroom. A strange disappointment washes over me, somehow cutting through the panic that’s been gripping me since the restaurant.

“Don’t tell me the Rizzler isn’t in this world,” I groan, staring up at the ceiling in exaggerated despair. “How am I supposed to live in a reality without the cultural icon that is the Rizzler?”

Caterina’s brow furrows further, genuine confusion evident in her expression. She opens her mouth as if to question me further, then seems to think better of it. Instead, she shushes me again.

“Just focus on right now, Adam,” she murmurs, repositioning herself behind me. Her voice drops lower, taking on that husky quality that bypasses all my rational thought processes and goes straight to my more primal instincts. “Nothing exists outside this room. Just you and me.”

‘I need to leave her.’

‘Even if she can make me feel safe. This is not a way to live.’

She returns her attention to my neck, her lips finding that spot just below my ear that makes my toes curl. The gentle suction as she works the sensitive skin sends waves of pleasure cascading down my spine, momentarily, but the horror in my gut remains.

‘I just need to come up with a plan.’

A/N I'm up to chapter 32 on discord. Only join if your cool af though. (No squares!)

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