Forced To Be The Mafia King's Bride

My breath caught in my throat the moment my eyes dropped between his legs. Oh God. His cock was hard, heavy, long, impossible to ignore. Panic filled my chest. “Is… that going inside me?” The words slipped out before I could stop them. My voice didn’t even sound like mine, small, breakable. “Oh, sweet doll…” His voice dropped, gravelly and dark. “It’s not just going inside you.” He stepped closer, towering over me. My skin heated as his hand wrapped around himself, stroking twice. He swelled even larger, as though to prove the threat in his words. “It’s going to stretch you wide open. You’ll feel me for days. You’ll walk with the memory of me buried deep, dripping down your thighs. You’ll cry from it, shake from it, and still… you’ll beg for more.” “Oh…” The sound tore from me, heavy with terror. I was sold for three million dollars to the man who killed my father. Dante De Luca, older, ruthless, dangerously handsome and untouchable. He didn’t buy me for a night. He bought me for a lifetime, to make me his mistress… and then, his wife. Trapped in a contract marriage, I vowed never to love him. But my body betrayed me. His possessive kisses. His punishing touch. I found myself wanting more. Craving him. Yearning for everything he gave. Dante wanted revenge, because my father killed his wife and stole his Mafia kingship. He wanted to punish me. He wanted to break me. But somewhere in his quest to cause me pain… he began to fall and save me, even from my own father. Now, when loyalty calls upon me, I’m torn. Between the man who raised me… and the man who owns my heart. Chapter 1: Dressed To Be Auctioned Author’s Note This book is a must-read because it holds everything you’ve been craving in a dark, addictive romance. This story is intense. It is brutal. It is steamy. It is dangerous. Inside, you’ll find hate-to-love, obsession, betrayal, revenge, dominance, and the kind of forbidden passion that sears itself into your soul. Gianna, the heroine, is everything I’ve always dreamed of writing, strong, brave, soft, untamed. She defies. She resists. But eventually, she surrenders… not out of weakness, but because love this forbidden cannot be denied. Dante, the man who swore to ruin her, is a world unto himself. In his kingdom, there are no rules. He is controlling. Obsessive. Jealous. Ruthless. A dark ruler forged from hate and vengeance. Yet the woman he vowed to destroy becomes the one he is willing to give up everything, even his life, for. Together, they are chaos and fire. Destruction and love. The beginning of an ending that should never exist. Trigger Warnings This book ventures into dark places. Some scenes are raw. Some are heavy. And not everything is safe. It contains sexual content, abuse, and emotional intensity that may not be for every reader. Remember: this is fiction. Names, places, and events are creations of imagination. If any detail bears resemblance to reality, it is purely coincidental. This book is everything, addictive and unforgettable. There is no escape once you step into Dante and Gianna’s world. Gia’s POV They dressed me like I wasn’t even human anymore, just something to be auctioned off. The skirt barely covered my thighs, riding so high it felt obscene. The top was worse, sheer and clinging like a second skin, leaving nothing to the imagination. My breasts pressed against the fabric, nipples visible, as though I was meant to be displayed. Bought. The heels cut into my ankles, my legs trembling with every shift of weight. Then my aunt smeared dark red lipstick across my mouth like she was painting on a mask. “Stop fighting, Gianna.” Her voice snapped sharp, nails digging into my arm as she spun me toward the mirror. “Look at yourself. This is what they want. What they’ll pay for. You’re going to smile when you walk out there and let those men bid for a night with you.” My throat burned. Tears blurred my reflection. “Please… don’t do this. There has to be another way. You can’t sell me to those monsters. I’m your only family.” “Family?” Her laugh was bitter. “Your father’s debts destroyed us. You’re all I have left to bargain with.” Panic gripped my chest. “Then let’s talk to Vincenzo. We’ll find another way. I’ll work…anything. I’ll pay it back, even if it takes years.” “Oh, my sweet, naïve girl…” Her voice softened for a heartbeat, then hardened again. “Vincenzo isn’t going to wait years. He wants his money now. And if you refuse the auction?” Her eyes cut into me, cold and merciless. “We’ll both be dead by morning.” She shoved my shoulders back, forcing my spine straight. “Vincenzo promised us twenty percent of whatever you’re sold for. That’s enough to start over.” A sob caught in my throat. “Twenty percent? Is that all I’m worth to you?” Her eyes narrowed. “This isn’t just about you. I gave up my life for you—for your father. When your mother died, I stayed. I raised you. I sacrificed everything. Don’t you dare question my loyalty.” She silenced me with a hand, her breath hot and bitter against my cheek. “This is the price your father left for you to pay.” A tear slipped down my face. For a moment, her tone softened. “There’s no need for tears. You’re alive because of me. If I hadn’t dragged you through those underground tunnels that night… if those men had found you…” her voice faltered, a shiver breaking through. “God, they would’ve done the unthinkable.” Her thumb brushed my cheek, tender, almost motherly. For a moment, I couldn’t tell which version of her was real, the woman who once sang me to sleep, or the one who now dressed me like a lamb for slaughter. “There’s no use shielding you anymore.” Her gaze pinned me in place. “Your father wasn’t the man you believed him to be. He was ruthless in his dealings, and he made enemies. Dangerous. Unforgiving.” My stomach dropped. “No… you’re wrong. Dad… he wouldn’t…” Her lips curved with pity. “You were a princess in a tower, spoiled and blind. You never saw the world. You never saw who your father really was.” Her voice grew meaner. “Now you will.” She leaned in, whispering the name like a curse. “One of the men your father crossed was Dante De Luca.” The name alone made my heart stutter. I didn’t know it, but it felt like a warning. “He’s the one who came after your father that night,” she whispered, “seeking revenge for something Lorenzo stole from him. In blood. In tears.” Her voice broke. “He’s the one who pulled the trigger.” —----- How did my life turn into this? Three days ago, I was celebrating my 22nd birthday with cake, laughter, and my father by my side. Then armed strangers stormed into our home, guns blazing, shattering everything. My aunt dragged me into hiding, but I saw it all, through a hole in the study wall. And then I saw him. The tall, broad-shouldered man with dark hair and piercing gray eyes. I watched, pain tightening in my chest, as he pulled the trigger, like my father’s life meant nothing. The moment my father’s body hit the floor, I screamed. And everything changed. My scream gave us away, but we ran, disappearing into hiding. Soon, word of my father’s death spread, and dangerous gangs came looking for us. Vincenzo’s men found us first. They didn’t care that my father was dead. They wanted what he owed... half a million dollars. We didn’t have it. And now I was about to be sold to the highest bidder. The curtains opened. I knew it was time. It was dark. The stage began to descend, and all I could hear were voices, eager, impatient. Then the platform stopped. Spotlights turned on. And there they were. A room full of men in tailored suits, with only a few women in glittering gowns seated beside them. The scent of cigars and expensive liquor filled the air. They were all looking at me. Waiting. Cheering. I scanned the crowd and realized, these weren’t bored billionaires or casual businessmen. They looked like the mafia. Their eyes were glazed with alcohol, their expressions dark with power. My heart thudded against my ribs so fast I thought I might pass out. I looked for an exit, any door, any window, any chance. But there was none. Vincenzo’s men stood at all the exits, guarding the entire space. Who would help me? Suddenly, Vincenzo’s voice boomed through the room, cutting through the noise. “Gentlemen,” he announced, arms spread wide like he was presenting a gift. “Feast your eyes on tonight’s rarest gem, the daughter of Lorenzo Giovanni himself.” Gasps and murmurs echoed across the room. Of course they recognized the name. Everyone did. “Gianna Giovanni is a prize,” Vincenzo continued with a grin that made my skin crawl. “I know all of you want a piece of her. But that’s not all...” He leaned closer to the mic. “She’s untouched in every way. A virgin.” Chapter 2: Sold To My Father's Killer Gia’s POV The word exploded through the room. A wave of murmurs and animal-like groans followed as their eyes raked across my body with callous hunger. Vincenzo’s hand clamped around my arm. His grip was cold and hard as he yanked me forward. I resisted, taking a step back on shaking legs, but his fingers dug deeper, bruising. He hissed in my ear, “Move.” And then I stepped into the light. It hit me, hot, blinding, exposing me completely. The room erupted in a chaotic mix of cheers, whistles, groans, applause, and laughter. Several men leaned forward, some rising to their feet with expressions so vile they turned my stomach. How could they be this cruel? Didn’t they have daughters? Sisters? Mothers? I wrapped my arms around my chest, trying to shield myself... what little there was left to protect. But their eyes devoured me anyway, mercilessly. “Get her hands off that luscious body!” one of the men shouted. “We need to inspect the goods we’re buying, after all!” Voices echoed in agreement. “Yeah! Take her hands off!” “Let us see what we’re bidding on!” I staggered back as Vincenzo’s furious eyes locked onto mine. He lunged forward, grabbed my wrists, and yanked my arms apart. He leaned into my ear, his breath harsh on my neck. “If you don’t behave, I’ll chop your aunt’s head off. Do you understand me?” I froze as terror gripped my insides. My aunt... she may have sold me out, but she was still the only family I had left. The only person who had ever stood by me. So I obeyed. I stood straighter, spine rigid, forcing myself not to flinch as I faced the crowd. “Those breasts look juicy!” one man shouted. “And those legs,” another leered, licking his lips. “I’d fuck her for days and still not get tired.” Disgust crawled over my skin. I scanned the room until I found him, the potbellied monster who had spoken. Greasy brown hair. A face like a cow. Then Vincenzo laughed. “Dallio, for the right price,” he said smugly, “she could be yours.” Another voice rose from the crowd, louder, meaner. “I’ll be tasting the sweetness between her legs tonight! My revenge on that useless Lorenzo, who handed me to my enemies like trash!” I stood there in disbelief. My vision blurred with tears. I refused to let fall. My aunt was right. My father had enemies. But I never realized how deep the hatred ran. None of this was my fault. My father kept me hidden in a small town with my aunt, isolated from the world. No friends. No boys. No freedom. He only let me attend university when I turned twenty, and only after years of arguments and begging. He claimed it was for my protection. Now…. I believed him. But I hated him for it. Hated him for dying and leaving me alone in this cruel, filthy world. I told myself to be brave. Just one night. Just one night, and I’d survive. Then my aunt and I would disappear, far, far away, with the twenty percent Vincenzo would pay us. Somewhere I wouldn’t have to sell myself just to stay alive. I just had to make it through tonight. Even if it destroyed me. “Let’s begin,” he announced. “We’ll start the bidding at one hundred thousand.” “ONE HUNDRED THOUSAND!” barked a voice from the front, thick, guttural. It was him. Dallio. The same man with the cow-like face. Sat smugly, raising his drink, the other hand gripping the armrest like he already believed he’d won. “Two hundred thousand!” someone else shouted behind him. The numbers started climbing. Fast. “Three!” “Three-fifty!” “Four hundred!” Voices layered on top of each other like wolves fighting for scraps. I stood frozen, my body trembling, while they shouted out prices like I was cattle at an auction. Tears burned behind my eyes again. I bit down on my bottom lip until I tasted blood. I couldn’t cry. I couldn’t fall apart now. This was really happening. Any second now, I’d be sold. And I’d lose everything. Even my virginity, something I hadn’t even shared with someone I loved. And it would go to one of these monsters. Dallio raised his hand again, voice loud and gleeful. “Five hundred thousand!” A chill swept over me. My eyes darted to him. I scanned him thoroughly. He was old. Short. Sweaty. His round belly pushed against the buttons of his shirt, and when he grinned, those golden teeth gleamed. He looked like a man who would swallow you whole and leave nothing behind. Please, God, not him. I scanned the rest of the room, hoping someone else would win. Anyone but him. But he kept going. He was relentless. “Six hundred!” “Seven!” “Eight hundred thousand!” Others challenged him, but he didn’t back down. If anything, it thrilled him. “Nine hundred!” The room grew louder, but fewer voices joined in now. Then he stood, puffed up like he’d already won. “ONE MILLION!” he roared, arms raised in triumph. A hush fell. The other men grumbled. Some cursed. Others chuckled and backed down, tipping their glasses in surrender. My heart sank. This was it. My fate was sealed. He spun toward the crowd, laughing, smug. “None of you bastards can top that, right?” He pointed at me, triumphant. “Lorenzo’s little brat... is mine!” My vision blurred. And then— From the far end of the room, a voice cut through the air. Deep. Smooth. Dangerous. “Five million dollars.” Everything stopped. The room fell deathly silent. Even Vincenzo’s smug expression shifted and his head turned toward the voice. “What…?” My eyes widened in shock. Five million...? Who the hell would offer five million dollars just for a night with me? My stomach twisted. My mind tried to calculate... twenty percent of five million... That was one million dollars. Enough to escape. To run from this twisted world, from my father’s sins, from the people who saw me as something to own. Enough to disappear with my aunt and start over. And thank God it wasn’t that horrible, vicious man who would’ve surely torn me apart. Vincenzo recovered, his face stretching into an even wider grin than before. “Well, well...” Disbelief flowed through me like a fever. “Sold to Dante De Luca,” Vincenzo declared, banging a tiny gavel on the podium like he was officiating a game, not auctioning off a human life. My heart stopped. That name... It sounded familiar. I’d heard it before. I was sure of it. But everything was spinning, too loud, too fast, my mind couldn’t place it. I searched for him. The man who had just bought me like I was nothing more than a luxury possession. But the lights were too bright. Blinding. I searched frantically. Desperate. Terrified. I had to see him. To know who I belonged to now. My eyes moved through the figures—and then I saw him. Sitting in the farthest, darkest corner of the room, untouched by light. Like he belonged to the shadows. Still, composed, but radiating danger in the calmest, most terrifying way. His jaw was sharp, clean-cut like sculpted stone. His suit molded to his body with effortless elegance, hugging broad shoulders and a frame built for power. Then his eyes met mine. Cold. Intense. A strange, unsettling feeling rushed through me, like something buried deep inside had suddenly risen to the surface. Those eyes... I knew those eyes. The memory slammed into me like a freight train. No! It couldn’t be. But it was. My knees nearly gave out. My lungs stopped working. It was him. The man from the study. The one with the gray eyes. The one who pulled the trigger. Dante De Luca. The man who shot my father. The man who destroyed my life. Now, owned me. Chapter 3: Bought My Enemies Daughter Dante's POV The moment our eyes met, it was sealed in blood, fate, and vengeance. She was going to be mine. Lorenzo Giovanni’s daughter. Innocent. Untouched. She was the price, and I would collect in full. She would carry her father’s punishment on that delicate, beautiful body. And in time, she would beg for mercy, the same mercy he never showed when he murdered my wife, stole my mafia seat, and left my world in ruins, destroying everything I loved and everything I fought so hard to protect. My men had been tracking her ever since the night we raided her father’s estate and she escaped with her aunt. Days passed, then the word came. Vincenzo had her, and she was being auctioned off to pay for her bastard father’s debt. That was all I needed... it was time. She stood trembling, her skin glowing beneath the dim lighting. A slender waist gave way to soft curves and hips, leading down to long legs barely hidden beneath that thin, provocative excuse for a dress. She had the kind of body men killed for. This was the beauty Lorenzo tried to hide from the world. Too bad he failed. My jaw clenched as I sat in the dark, watching beasts in tailored suits toss out numbers like they were bidding on meat. The worst of them, Diallo, was a bloated excuse for a man. He licked his lips as he shouted out bids. Every time his greedy eyes raked over her, I wanted to rip them out of his skull. I should have looked away. I didn’t. Mine. The word echoed in my head over and over again. She was mine. And no amount of money or legacy would change that. When I rose from my seat, the entire room quieted. She saw me. Our eyes met. I didn’t expect the heat, how fast and intense it came. Her face was innocent. Eyes wide. Terrified, yes, but I could also sense the defiance. Like part of her would rather die than surrender. Good. I liked a little fire before I crushed it. Her lips parted slightly, trembling. She stepped back, like she’d seen a ghost. And maybe she had. Because if she remembered the night I shot her father, she certainly remembered me. The more I walked toward her, the clearer her face became... and fuck. She was stunning. Too stunning. And it infuriated me that she stood there, exposed, in front of those callous monsters who had only one thought in mind, to ruin her. But that was never going to happen. Because she was meant to be my retribution. Not theirs to ogle. Not theirs to claim. Now, standing in front of her, every breath I took burned, not from hatred, but from a primal need. She looked so young. So fragile. But I didn’t care. I was a man consumed by vengeance. And I was far too gone to turn back now. Vincenzo smirked from the stage. “Looks like Lorenzo’s brat is going home with you.” I didn’t bother looking at him. “My men will handle the payment. I’m done here. She’s coming with me.” I reached for her. Then the pig barked. “Not so fast.” Diallo. I turned slowly, gaze narrowing on his bloated, sweaty face. Of all the cowards in the room, he was the one foolish enough to challenge me. “If none of these men have the balls to speak up,” he said smugly, “I will. You know the rules, De Luca. You don’t just buy the girl and walk out.” He sneered, licking his dry, cracked lips. “You fuck her in the viewing room, so we all get to watch.” My chest tightened with fury. It took everything in me not to smash my fist into his face. “You dare challenge me, Diallo?” I growled. “You filthy swine.” He puffed his chest like the bloated pig he was. “If no one else will, I will. We all want a taste of Lorenzo’s precious little virgin. Just because you’re king of the seven territories doesn’t mean you get to keep all the fun for yourself.” The crowd erupted in vicious chants. Their eyes moved back to Gianna, who stood frozen in fear. I should have felt satisfied. But I didn’t. What I felt was something closer to rage, not at her, but at them. These men had no right to touch her. No right to even look at her. Yes, I was going to break her. Yes, I was going to use her body strictly for my pleasure. But not in front of these animals. Never. I turned to Vincenzo, who simply lifted his hands and shrugged. “Rules are rules, Dante. You know how it goes.” There was no way I was going to claim her in front of them. The first time I took her would be on my terms. In my bed. I looked down at her body, the lush swell of her breasts, the curve of her thighs, the way she fidgeted. No. No one touches her. Possession coursed through me like fire. I turned to Vincenzo. “You know this is bullshit.” He shrugged again, greedy eyes glinting. “Tradition, Don Dante. My hands are tied.” Liar. Everything with Vincenzo had a price. Including this. So I named mine. “Ten million. Now.” Vincenzo’s eyes widened. And just like that, he folded. “Sold. She’s yours. Get her out of here.” I wasn’t surprised. Vincenzo was a greedy bastard. For men like him, tradition crumbled the second real money hit the table. He turned to the crowd. “She’s been bought and paid for. Back off.” The room exploded in noise. Chaos erupted as Vincenzo’s guards shoved men back. “No. We want to watch.” “She’s not yours alone, De Luca.” “Tap that little cunt for the rest of us.” That was Diallo again. His fat mouth flapped like he forgot who he was speaking to. But I didn’t waste another second. I walked straight to her. Her eyes widened as I grabbed her arm, warm, soft, trembling like a leaf, and yanked her toward me. There was a spark when I touched her. Something electric. But I didn’t stop to question it. I slung her over my shoulder as she yelped. “No. No, where are you taking me?” she screamed. “Put me down. Let me go.” Her fists pounded against my back as I carried her into the hallway. “Where are you taking me? Let me go.” Her screams grated on my nerves. I clenched my jaw. Ungrateful. Didn’t she realize I’d just saved her from a room full of predators? Then she yelled, “Murderer.” Of course she remembered. She saw me shoot her father. Saw the blood. Heard the gunfire from both me and my men. Her scream that night, raw and broken, still echoed in my mind. The way she looked at me, like I had ripped her world apart. And I had. She looked like she wanted to tear me limb from limb. She would have tried, if her aunt hadn’t dragged her away. Now, her reaction made sense. But what she didn’t know was what I had planned for her. She kicked again, and I stopped mid-step. My voice dropped into a growl. “What the fuck is wrong with you? I just saved your ass.” Over my shoulder, she raged. “Saved me? You bought me, you savage. You’re no better than them.” “Keep screaming,” I warned, “and I’ll find a way to punish that smart little mouth of yours.” Her voice cracked with fury. “I know you. I know what you did. You’re the one who shot my father.” I turned my head slightly as her words echoed through the air. “You bought me to finish the job, didn’t you?” She started screaming again, loud, desperate, as we stepped out into the cold night air. “Help me.” My men opened the car door. I tossed her inside the back seat like a ragdoll and climbed in after her. She recoiled instantly, pressing herself into the door like it could swallow her whole. “Don’t hurt me,” she whimpered. “I know who you are. You killed my father. And now you’re going to kill me.” I gritted my teeth, voice low and vicious. “Don’t talk. Or I will shut you up. Permanently.” She started pounding on the window with trembling hands. “Help.” Fucking hell. I knew she was a spoiled brat, but I hadn’t expected this. My patience snapped. I reached for her, grabbing her wrists. Before she could scream again, I clamped a hand over her mouth. Her cries turned into muffled sobs, her eyes wide and wild with panic. Then precisely, I pressed my fingers to the side of her neck, just beneath her jaw. Her body jolted. And within seconds, she slumped in my arms. I didn’t intend to hurt her. Not yet. I just needed silence. Her body sagged against me, unconscious now. Peaceful. Too peaceful for the fire I knew lived inside her. I stared at her for a long moment. She looked like an angel in my arms. An angel with the mouth of a viper. It was going to be fun breaking and taming her. Because no matter how much she screamed, she belonged to me now. And she was going to learn the hard way what it meant to surrender to me. Chapter 4: Confronting My New Owner Gia’s POV My eyes blinked open, slow and heavy, stinging from the bright light as it settled in. A cough slipped past my lips, rough and dry, like my throat had been scraped with sand. My hand flew to my neck as a dull ache throbbed beneath the skin, my fingers brushing the sore spot. And then it hit me. The auction. The man who reeked of death. His hand over my mouth. Me, passing out. My eyes snapped open wide now. And I saw him. He sat across from me, one leg bent casually like this was a conversation, not a nightmare. Just like before, his grey eyes locked on mine, piercing into every layer of my skin. His expression showed no guilt, not even a hint that anything he did haunted him. My chest tightened. "You..." my voice cracked as I pushed myself upright, panic gripping my insides... "you tried to kill me." He didn’t move. He didn’t even blink. "Why did you bring me here?" I shouted, my voice rising. My hand shot forward, finger pointed like it could burn a hole through his chest. "Is this how you plan to wipe out the Giovanni name?" My eyes darted around the room. The living room was massive, high ceilings, gold décor... But none of it mattered. None of it felt real. I scanned the space again, desperate for any window. But the windows were buried behind heavy, creamy curtains, casting the entire room in a dim, oppressive gloom. It felt like we were alone. Just him and me. And God, I feared for my life, that he’d kill me the same way he killed my father. The light above burned too bright now, and there were no neon auction lights for him to hide behind. I could finally see him clearly. He wasn’t wearing the jacket from before. Just a dark, fitted shirt clinging to his chest and arms, and black pants stretched over powerful thighs. His hair was slicked back, a little messy. He looked too calm, like the chaos he’d caused didn’t matter. He was tall. Clean-shaven. Cold. Older, but in that maddening, dangerous way. The kind that made your heart skip, both in fear and in admiration. He leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees. Then came the words, low and smug. "Pretty doll, if I wanted to kill you, you’d already be dead." That voice was deep and threatening. Oh my God. This man was a psycho. How could he talk about killing someone like it was entertainment, something he did when he was bored? There was no escape for me, so I had to try another strategy. Maybe I could appeal to his conscience, though I doubted he had one. I sat up straighter. "What more do you want from me?" My voice trembled, but I didn’t stop. "You killed my father. Isn’t that enough?" The corner of his mouth lifted. That same smug expression he wore at the auction. He wasn’t even trying to deny it. "You’re not going to lie?" I whispered. "You’re not even going to pretend you didn’t do it? I saw you. I saw the blood. I watched him fall. I watched you shoot him." His face didn’t change. Not even a trace of regret. Just that look, like he was proud of it. "Because he deserved it," he replied flatly. "Your father was the real monster. Death would’ve been too easy." "Don’t you dare talk about him like that." I lashed out, a raw instinct rising to defend the man I’d called father my whole life. Even if some part of me was still scared... Because I knew this man could kill me just as easily. He raised an eyebrow. "You really don’t know, do you?" Silence. His grin deepened. "The kind of man he really was. The enemies he made. The blood he spilled. And you want to sit there and defend him like some little girl who doesn’t know what kind of world she was raised in?" My dad was far from perfect, but he loved me, in his own way. I remembered the nights he came home late and still read me bedtime stories. How he’d kiss my forehead and call me his princess. How he promised to always protect me. But I also remembered the locked doors. The yelling behind them. The bodyguards going in and out of rooms that were off-limits to me. The months he never came home. The fear in Aunt Camilla’s eyes when she thought I wasn’t looking. She said he had enemies. Maybe he’d just made one mistake. Maybe he wasn’t the devil this man claimed. "He wasn’t a monster," I whispered, though the words felt small now, like I was struggling to believe them myself. He rose from his seat, his footsteps echoing as he came closer. I backed into the couch, pressing my body as far as it could go, but it didn’t matter. He already stood before me. "People like your father always have two faces," he sneered. "You only saw the version he wanted you to see." His hand reached out, fingers brushing my cheek, slow and too warm for a killer. A shiver tore through me, and I hated it. So I turned my face away, ashamed that my body even responded to him. But he didn’t let go. He gripped my jaw, firm, tilting my face back to him. His thumb dragged slowly from my cheek to the corner of my lips, parting them just slightly. "This viper’s mouth of yours," he murmured, "I already told you, I’ll tame it... and put it to good use. Soon." Fury surged through me and I slapped his hand away. His eyes darkened. Then his hand wrapped around my neck. Not tight, but firm. Enough to still my breath and remind me exactly who held the power. He yanked me forward until our faces nearly touched, his breath hot against my lips, burning through the small space between us. It didn’t just warm my skin. It awakened every nerve ending in my body. "No one disrespects me," he gritted through clenched teeth. "Not the men who beg for mercy right before I put a bullet in their brains. Not the ones I bury alive. And definitely not you, pretty thing." Fear shot through me, hearing the gruesome acts he had committed, but I couldn’t let it show. "I don’t care," I shot back, voice shaking. "You killed my father. You took the only person I had left. How do you think that makes me feel?" My throat tightened, and tears welled in my eyes despite how I fought to hold them back. "Why?" I choked. "Why my dad? Why me?" He stared at me. Then he laughed wickedly. "For revenge." I blinked. "What?" "Your father took something from me," his voice was low and strained, as though a painful memory had just flashed in his head. "Something I can never get back." "And this is how you repay him?" I asked, heart pounding. "By ruining the life of an innocent girl who knows nothing about any of this?" "Oh no." He loosened his grip just slightly. "This isn’t about ruining you." His gaze locked onto mine, intense, piercing. "This is about owning you." It felt like the floor slipped out from under me. I didn’t want to beg, but the thought of what the man who killed my father was capable of doing to me terrified every inch of my body. "Please... let me go." He tilted his head, eyes gleaming with dark satisfaction right before he released me. I stumbled back, hands flying to my throat, massaging the tender spot where his fingers had pressed. "Pretty doll," his voice was taunting, "I’m not letting you go. Not now. Not ever." Then he smiled in a twisted way. "I’ll take my revenge by punishing every inch of that body for one reason only... my pleasure." Chapter 5: You only bought my virginity Gia's POV I shook my head in disbelief, trying to make sense of the cruel words spilling from his mouth. He didn’t just want a night with me, he wanted to use my body as punishment for my father’s sins. It was sick, too much for me to process. And yet, the look in his eyes told me he meant every word. I was trapped. But what unsettled me most was that the way he looked at me made my skin tingle with heat instead of just fear. No. I couldn’t let that happen. I couldn’t be weak, especially not with a man like him. I had to fight this. Fight whatever was waking up inside me. I had to fight him. “You can’t just keep me here,” I protested, forcing strength into my voice. “You paid for just one night with me.” His expression softened slightly. “One night wouldn’t be enough, not for what I have planned for you.” “No!” I shot back at him. “That wasn’t the deal. Vincenzo said...” He chuckled, low and bitter, cutting me off. “Vincenzo is a greedy bastard who sells flesh for pocket change. And in case it slipped your pretty little mind, I paid a whopping ten million dollars just to get you out of that hellhole. Do you even know what those men wanted?” My chest heaved, breath shallow. Ten million... No man would pay that kind of money just to sleep with a woman. There had to be more. “They wanted me to take you right there, to spread your thighs and fuck you in front of them like a show. Is that what you would’ve preferred?” “No,” I shook my head, eyes stinging with tears. “Those men might be vile, but they aren’t the ones who murdered my father in cold blood, so I’d rather take my chances out there than be trapped in here with you.” His eyes darkened. “Enough. I’m not interested in your little speeches anymore. Is that understood?” Then he turned, walked across the room, opened a drawer, and pulled out a black file. Without a word, he tossed it toward me. It landed on the couch beside me with a soft thud. I stared at it, confused. “What is this?” “Open it,” he said coolly. My hands trembled as I reached for it. I flipped it open. And my heart sank. The title was stamped in bold, black ink. Mistress Contract. I blinked. “What the...” My eyes scanned the page. Terms. Conditions. Rules I couldn’t believe I was reading. A clause stating that once I signed, my body would belong to him. My submission was his to control. He would dictate when I was touched, how I was touched, and I would have no right to refuse. No safe words. No questions. Just obedience. Total, unquestioning obedience. I would be his plaything, molded by his desires, trained to respond only to him. And if I dared resist, he would break me until I learned how to kneel. In exchange, he’d erase every debt my father owed, and offer me protection. But I would be owned by him forever. He wanted to make me his personal whore for life. This contract was written like I was just property. What sick lawyer drew this up? I was certain this wasn’t even legal. But I guess in the mafia world, anything was. I looked up at him, completely horrified. How evil could a man be? Fury surged in my chest. “You’re insane if you think I’ll ever sign this,” I spat. “I’ll never be your mistress, not for all the money in the world, or your so-called protection.” His face changed, and he crossed the room in seconds. His hand gripped a fistful of my hair, not yanking, but firm enough to make me yelp as our eyes locked. “Let go of me!” He didn’t. His breath was close now. I could see every unhinged emotion in his eyes that revealed his possessive need for control. “You will sign it,” he demanded coldly. “Because if you don’t, I’ll send you back to Vincenzo, and this time I won’t stop him. You saw that pig, Diallo, the sick bastard begging me to take you in front of a crowd like a circus act?” I swallowed hard. “He’ll be the first to get his disgusting hands on you. And then the rest will follow. Vincenzo will sell you again and again to the highest bidder until there’s nothing left of you. Do you understand me?” Tears welled in my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. “You think you’re free? That your last name protects you? Your father owed people more than you can count. There’s a line of men waiting to collect. The moment I walked into that room and paid for you, I spared you. And now you belong to me.” He leaned closer, lowering his voice. “And I’m giving you more than any of them would. A roof, safety, protection. All you have to do is sign.” My chest heaved. “You’re despicable,” I seethed. “You and all those men, filthy, shameless, disgusting. How can you take pleasure in watching a woman be destroyed?” His grip loosened from my hair as he stared at me mockingly. “Your father took pleasure in it,” he whispered, voice venomous. “He did worse to women, far worse. Don’t you dare wear a crown of innocence for him.” I froze. The weight of his words crashed over me. Was it true? Could my father have done those things? I shoved the thought away. “I hate you,” I hissed. His fingers, rough and tender at the same time which surprised me, caressed my scalp, then slid slowly to the nape of my neck, continuing lower until his palm pressed into the small of my back. And then, without warning, he pulled me forward, my body colliding with the hard wall of his chest. My breath hitched. Every part of him was pressed against me. Heat radiated off him, seeping through my skin, lighting up parts of me I didn’t know existed. “It’s useless to fight me, Gia,” he murmured. “I’ll conquer every part of you.” His grip tightened. “You can’t run. You can’t hide. And the sooner you accept that, the less it’ll hurt.” I summoned whatever strength I had and shoved at his chest. But the second my hands touched him, I stilled. He didn’t budge. Every part of him was solid and hot. My fingers curled slightly into his shirt instead of pushing back. And he made it worse by pressing his hand harder into my spine, pushing my core against his. “Think I’m a monster?” he whispered, his voice calm as ever. “You’re not wrong. But out there...” His lips hovered near my ear, voice dark. “There are worse. And they’re waiting for you.” My heart pounded in my chest, harder than before. And then, just like that, he let go. The heat disappeared with him. I should’ve felt relief. Instead, it felt like a tiny part of me missed that heat. He turned back to the desk, pulled out another folder, and tossed it onto the couch beside me. “Your father didn’t just owe Vincenzo.” A chill ran through me. He flipped the file open and pointed to a page. “Three names. All worse than me. Men your father borrowed from in the past year alone. Do you know why?” I shook my head. “To buy power,” he said, lifting a brow. “Weapons. Connections. He wanted a bigger seat at the table. But he got greedy. And reckless.” “That’s not true,” I whispered, voice cracking. He didn’t blink. “He never told you, did he?” “Oh, it’s true,” he continued coldly. “Your daddy planned a shipment of black market weapons, routed through the borders. Only I got there first. I intercepted every damn crate. Left him with knockoffs and a long list of furious investors.” “You’re making all of this up to justify what you did,” I countered, terror gripping my throat. “You’re trying to scare me into giving in.” For a second, his expression softened. “You’ll find out,” he said quietly. “In time. Who your father really was. And how many lives he destroyed.” Then his voice dropped lower, more lethal. “But for now....” He stepped in, his gaze dipping inside my cleavage like a predator sizing up its prey. “I plan to get to know every inch of you. Because now, you belong to me.” His hand moved slowly, sliding across my chest. The sheer fabric of the dress was useless, barely hiding the curve of my breasts. I saw it in his eyes, the hunger, the ownership. He stared at my breasts like they were his to devour. And my body, God help me, reacted. His touch sparked a heat low in my belly, and I fought to shut it down before it took over completely. “You disgust me,” I choked out, hoping it would push him away. “Do I?” His thumb slid even lower, inside the dress, teasing the top of my chest in feathery strokes. “I will never belong to you!” I jerked back, trying to break free. “Oh, pretty little thing...” he leaned in, voice mocking, “your body already says otherwise.” I looked down and gasped. My nipples were hard and already peaking through the sheer fabric, as if begging for his attention. “No...” I tried to cover myself, humiliated. But he caught my wrists before I could. Then he yanked me against him, chest to chest. My sensitive peaks brushed against the hard plane of his chest. The contact sent a jolt through me, and a gasp escaped before I could stop it. “Oh God...” The sudden sound startled me, and the smug look on his face made it clear he noticed. He was enjoying every second of watching my body react to him. It only deepened my hatred for him. He wanted to humiliate me, but I wasn’t going to let that happen. Ever. “You only bought my virginity!” I cried, trembling, not from fear, but from the desperate need to end his cold torment. “Take it... and let me go.” He let out a dark, amused laugh. “Oh no. I bought all of you, your tears, your moans, your rebellion, and your surrender.” His eyes burned, but what made it worse was how utterly unrepentant he looked. All the rage I’d carried since the night he shattered my world surged through me, twice as fierce, too heavy to hold back. So I lashed out. “You’re the worst kind of monster, a murderer without a shred of guilt for his victims.” His features shifted, hardening into something ruthless and unforgiving. “Then I’ll be your monster, the one who brings you to your fucking knees.” Chapter 6: What if it was drugged, or worse, poisoned? Gianna’s POV My mouth went dry as I backed away, each step slower than the last. Dante’s voice, deep and terrifying, sent a chill crawling down my spine. This wasn’t a nightmare I could wake up from. This was real. Dante De Luca, the monster who shot my father, was real. Flesh and blood. And I was alone in his home with no way out. There was only one path laid out for me: to be his mistress. For life. Terror pressed down on my chest. I couldn’t breathe. My lips trembled. “God help me,” I whispered, barely able to get the words out. “This can’t be my life. I can’t belong to this monster.” He tilted his head, amused. Then he laughed, cruelly. “No one’s coming to save you,” he mocked. The dark humor in his tone pierced through my chest, driving the panic deeper. The room seemed to tilt, everything fading around me. “I can’t be trapped here,” I muttered. “I refuse to be trapped here.” My breathing quickened, and it felt like my senses slipped away from me. “Help!” I screamed, eyes darting around the lavish living room until they landed on the massive steel door across the room. My adrenaline surged. That was it, the way out. I didn’t think, I just ran. I threw myself at the door, gripped the handle with both hands, and yanked hard. Nothing. “Help!” I screamed again, banging my fists against the metal. “Please! Anyone, please!” Suddenly a screen lit up on the wall beside the door, blinking cold blue text. To open, enter code. Dread crashed into me like a wave. I had no code. No way out. I was locked in. Behind me, I heard him laugh again. He sounded amused, like I was putting on a show just for him. “Little firecracker,” Dante murmured. “I thought you were smarter than that.” I spun around, breathing ragged, but he was already there, towering over me. “Surely you’ve figured it out by now,” he said, his tone colder than stone. “I own not just this building, but the entire estate. Even if by some miracle you got through that door, you wouldn’t make it ten steps. My men are stationed at every exit. You’d be dragged back to me, bleeding, if they’re feeling generous.” His eyes darkened as he stepped closer. I stepped back, one foot at a time, until my spine hit the steel door. His words made it clear, there was nowhere to run. I didn’t even know where I was or how to make it out. Still, what was I supposed to do? Just give in? I had to try. Who wouldn’t try to run from their father’s killer? I opened my mouth to scream again, but before a sound could escape, he grabbed me. His hand clamped over my mouth. “Strike one, little girl,” he hissed into my ear, his breath hot against my skin. “Try that again, and I’ll punish you.” My blood boiled with fear and fury. I wasn’t a child. I wasn’t some pet he could threaten into obedience. Rage surged up and took over. So I bit him. Hard. He cursed under his breath and pulled back. I slipped from his grasp and stumbled away. “Let me out of here!” I cried. “I’m not interested in being your whore!” He looked at little bite mark on his palm, and fury overtook him. Before I could move again, he grabbed me and slammed me back against the door. The impact rattled through my bones. I gasped, but it turned into a choked whimper as his hand wrapped tight around my throat and lifted me off the ground. My feet dangled in the air. I clawed at his arm, kicking helplessly, lungs burning. “Little girl,” he growled, his eyes burning into mine, “I could end it all right now. I could squeeze the life from you and watch your body hit this floor, and not lose a single hour of sleep.” My vision blurred. My body trembled. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. “Please,” I rasped, voice barely a whisper. “Stop. I can’t breathe.” “Can’t you now?” he sneered, his grip loosening slightly. “And what exactly did you think, Gianna? That you could go against me and walk away?” I shook my head wildly, tears spilling down my cheeks. My limbs started to go numb. “I’m… I’m sorry,” I choked out. “It was a mistake. Just don’t kill me, please.” The look in his eyes softened, just for a moment. And then, slowly, he released his grip and let me down. My feet hit the ground shakily, knees threatening to give out beneath me as I gasped for air. Instinctively, my hand flew to my throat, coughing uncontrollably, each breath scraping against the pain circling there. A painful reminder of how close I’d come to losing it all. I didn’t even know what I’d been thinking. How could I have been so reckless? I didn’t want to see his face, not after feeling his fingers wrapped around my throat, squeezing the air out of me like I was nothing. A toy to be broken. A lesson to be taught. But then I felt his arms, warm and strong, wrap around me. And before I could flinch, he lifted me with a startling gentleness, as if none of it had just happened. I gasped again, stunned by the softness in his touch, but I knew better than to fight him now. I knew exactly what he was capable of. He walked across the massive living room with me cradled in his arms like a doll. Then he lowered me onto the velvet sofa carefully, as though I might break if he set me down too hard. Still not knowing what to make of this version of him, I crawled away from him, just a few inches, but he reached out, brushing my hair gently away from my face. His fingers trailed to my neck, slow and careful. His touch was soft, but it still made me tense. He examined the marks, fingertips grazing the skin he’d just tried to crush. “It’s just faintly bruised,” he said, his voice tender now. “I’ll get you something for it.” I simply nodded. I didn’t trust myself not to say something provoking, and I didn’t want to risk angering him again. Then he stepped back and looked at me with a coldness that made my blood run colder. “That was strike two,” he warned. “And by the third strike, you’ll regret you ever went against me.” My heart stilled. “You want to get punished, Gianna? Keep pushing.” It was the first time he had said my name out loud, and for some unexplainable reason, shivers raced down my spine at the way the last syllable rolled off his tongue. He rose without another word and crossed the room, pressing a button on a small control panel built into the wall. A few seconds later, the massive steel door swung open, and a woman walked in. She looked like she was in her forties, and she held a silver tray with a glass of water. “Here, young lady.” She offered the glass with a kind voice, though her eyes darted between me and Dante like she was scared for me. I blinked at her. How could someone who looked so decent, so normal, work for a man like this? Then I felt his gaze on me again. I slowly reached for the glass, my hand shaking. The woman gave me a quiet nod, then stepped back. She and Dante exchanged a single glance. Nothing was said, but she passed something to him that I couldn’t quite make out. And their mannerism told me everything I needed to know about their relationship. They’d probably worked together for a long time. Maybe she had seen worse. Maybe she was used to it. My dad had taught me how to read people’s body movements in one of the many lessons he put me through. Now I wished I had paid more attention when he spoke, but I had been too busy living a sheltered life, never knowing the day would come when I would be all alone. The glass shook in my hand as I stared down at the clear liquid. It looked normal, but I didn’t feel safe. My thoughts raced. What if it was drugged, or worse, poisoned? Chapter 7: Finding Out My Father Is Still Alive Gianna’s POV “Do you think I’m going to poison you?” Dante asked suddenly, his voice much calmer than it had any right to be. My fingers shook around the glass, then, slowly… I nodded. A dry chuckle left his lips, as though he was mocking my response. “If I wanted you dead,” he said coldly, “you’d have been dead the moment you passed out in my car.” When I didn’t respond, he let out an irritated sigh, grabbed the glass from my hand, and took a sip himself. Then he pushed it back toward me. “Drink it, now. You’ll need your strength. And you’ll need to stay hydrated… for what I have planned tonight.” I wanted to ask what he meant, but changed my mind. The less conversations I had with this man, the better for me. So I tipped the glass back and gulped down every drop. Only then did I realize how thirsty I was, how dry my throat had been as the cool liquid slid down my throat. I drank like I hadn’t seen water in days. When I was done, he took the glass from my hand and set it on the side table. Then, without speaking, he retrieved something from the tray the woman had brought in earlier. A small tube. He opened it, dipped his fingers inside, then sat beside me once more. I tensed. “Relax,” he voice was low and reassuring. His fingers brushed against my neck again, this time with cool gel between them. The tenderness of it made my skin shiver. My body jerked involuntarily at the contact, but he pulled me closer, holding me steady with his other hand. “Stop moving,” He commanded. “Or else you could smear it all over your body.” “Alright.” I replied softly. He moved slowly, carefully, applying the ointment in soft, circular strokes into my skin. And I hated that it felt good. That his touch was gentle and soothing sent little sparks dancing beneath my skin. Once he was done, he let his fingers linger just a second too long before pulling back. “Does it feel better?” he asked. I hesitated, my voice thin and brittle. “…Yes.” “Good,” he said, his tone shifting again, colder. Distant. As if whatever part of him that showed me kindness… had already vanished. And the monster I feared was back. The contradiction of this man was enough to make me dizzy. Then he tilted my face up with a rough, confident grip, forcing me to meet the cold darkness in his eyes. “I expected you to be a little shaken,” he said, his tone flat, almost amused. “But not this damn stubborn. Or downright obnoxious.” How dare he call me stubborn? After everything he’d put me through, threatening to sell me, shattering what little life I had left, he still expected me to just nod and obey? What kind of delusional world did this man live in, where no one challenged him? His voice was laced with irritation as he continued. “I thought, knowing your life was at risk, you’d be grateful and accept my offer willingly. Knowing that I'm the best option you have.” I folded my arms across my chest, more to hide how badly I was shaking than to look defiant. “How am I supposed to be sure you really are my best bet?” His eyes narrowed. “Well, for one,” he leaned closer, “you can be sure I would never auction you off to another man. I’m the only man you’ll ever belong to.” I couldn’t help it, my eyes rolled before I could stop myself. The way he said it, like I was supposed to feel grateful that only one man would own me. How sick was that? He caught it. Of course he did. His stare hardened. “Can you say the same about those vile men at Vincenzo’s club?” I matched his gaze. “Maybe you should let me go so I can find out for myself.” Dante's mouth curved into a tight, mocking smile. “I’ve given you more grace than most, firecracker. But you’re bent on making this harder than it needs to be.” “I’m not trying to be difficult,” I replied, my voice shaky. “I know you don’t have a conscience, but if there’s even a piece of one left in you, then try to understand… all of this is new to me. My father is dead. I was sold to the man who killed him, like an object. And now I’m supposed to just… adjust to the mafia world overnight? I don’t even understand any of this.” He didn’t speak. Just looked at me. My throat burned as I forced out the rest. “If this is all about revenge… if my father’s truly dead… then why not just kill me, instead of torturing me slowly?” Dante let out a low, cruel laugh. “Moments ago, you were begging me to spare your life. Now you’re asking me to end it?” He tilted his head mockingly. “Interesting.” “That’s not what I meant….” But he cut me off, eyes gleaming coldly. “The reason you’re still alive is because Lorenzo escaped. I shot him, but he got away.” The words hit me hard. Shock tore through me like a lightning bolt. “That’s not possible,” I breathed. “I watched you shoot him. He fell... there was blood...” “Yes,” Dante admitted, almost bored now. “But when you screamed… it distracted me. I turned my head for one goddamn second. Long enough for a few of his men to get in and drag him out. By the time mine reached the courtyard, he was gone.” My head was spinning. “Gone?” “Vanished,” he confirmed. “Two hours later, his car was found set ablaze. Police said it was a head-on collision, and all bodies were burnt beyond recognition.” He paused. His eyes stayed locked on mine. “My men swore it was him,” Dante went on. “But my instincts, which have never failed me, tell me otherwise. Lorenzo is alive. And until I know for certain, I’ll use the one thing he loved most to draw him out.” His voice dipped, full of vengeance. “You.” My heart dropped as a mix of fear and relief washed over me. My father might be alive. I held onto the thought with everything I had. I prayed it was true. That he escaped. That somewhere, somehow, he was safe. Maybe even planning to come for me. He always said I was his world. That he’d die for me. That had to mean something. And just maybe, there was a way out of this for me. I just had to survive long enough for him to find me. But Dante had other plans. “This is taking too long. Clearly, you need some convincing.” He turned abruptly, pulled out his phone and walked a few steps away, speaking low into it. I couldn’t hear much, just enough to know I didn’t like whatever was coming next. Then the steel door opened. A tall man stepped in, brown-haired, broad-shouldered, with the kind of calm confidence that screamed danger. I recognized him instantly. He’d been at the auction. He’d driven the car that took me from hell to… wherever this place was.Gianna’s His eyes shifted to Dante, waiting. “Bruno,” Dante said, “bring her in.” Bruno gave a silent nod and walked out. My blood turned cold. “What’s going on?” I asked, my voice rising in panic. “Who are you bringing in?” No answer. Just silence. The minutes stretched too long and finally. Then the door opened again. And I froze. “Aunt Camilla?” My voice broke on her name. Shock slammed into my chest. I stood, legs wobbling, unsure if I was dreaming. She stepped inside slowly. Her eyes met mine, and for the briefest moment, I saw the same exhaustion, the same fear, mirrored in her gaze. Before I could move, Dante spoke. “I’ll give you both some time.” He turned without another word and walked out, leaving me alone with the woman I once believed had tried to protect me. But now… I wasn’t so sure. Chapter 8: Striking A Bargain Gia’s POV “Aunty Camilla?” I said, blinking fast as if the sight of her might disappear. “What… are you doing here? How?” I didn’t wait for her to answer. I rushed forward and threw my arms around her. For a second, she held me. Just a second, then she pulled back. Her arms dropped from around me like I was something she didn’t want to hold onto for too long. She looked at me carefully, her voice steady. “Dante’s men brought me here.” I frowned. “What? Why would they bring you…?” She stepped closer, placing a hand gently on my arm, like she was trying to calm a wild animal. “Gia… listen to me. Calm down. Everything is going to be fine.” “No,” I snapped, stepping back. “No, it’s not going to be fine!” My chest was tight. I couldn’t breathe. My hands were trembling. “I need to get out of here,” I begged. “Back at Vincenzo’s club, you promised if we got our twenty percent from the auction, we’d disappear. Start over.” Her eyes dropped to the floor, and for the first time, I saw guilt flash in her eyes. “Oh child,” she murmured, her voice cracking. “How I wish… but we can’t.” I shook my head violently. “Why not? Dante said Dad might be alive. If that’s true, then we should be out there looking for him! He could be hurt. He could need us.” Her face softened, not with hope but pity. “Gia,” she said slowly, “you’re too naïve.” My heart sank. “You saw those names Dante showed you, the men Lorenzo owes. They’re monsters,” she continued. “If by some miracle your father’s still breathing, he’s hiding. Because even he knows those men don’t leave debts unpaid.” I stared at her, blinking in disbelief. “So that’s it? You want me to just… give in? Don’t you care about me?” She tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, the way she used to when I was little and scared after a nightmare. “My sweet Gia,” she murmured. “Of course I care. But we don’t have a choice. Dante is offering you something no one else will. Protection. Security. A home. He’ll settle all your father’s debts. You’ll want for nothing.” My mouth dropped open. She truly had grown heartless overnight. “You’ll get used to it,” she added, her tone slipping into something almost rehearsed. “He’s handsome. Strong. Better than half the men who could’ve won you.” “You’re not hearing yourself,” I choked out. “This is the world we live in, Gia,” her voice was even harsher. “Either you accept Dante’s offer… or he’ll cast us out in the street, where your father’s enemies are waiting. You think they’ll offer you contracts? Negotiations?” She stepped even closer, her tone clearly a warning. “They’ll drag you into a basement. Tie you up. And take turns, one after the other. And when they’re done, they’ll sell you off again, maybe in pieces this time.” My breath caught. That was exactly what Dante said, word for word. The same vile, brutal scenario he used to scare me. Did he tell her to say this? Or was this just the dark reality of the mafia world? “You can’t afford to fight him,” she went on. “You’ve always had that fire, that defiant spirit. Always believed we women had a choice. That we could rewrite the rules. But this isn’t the world you dreamed of, Gia. This is the mafia. And in this world… women don’t get choices. We get assigned.” She reached for my hand and began massaging my palm in a slightly cynical manner. “I’ve spent years trying to tame that wildness in you,” she murmured. “Always hoping you’d learn your place before it got you hurt. But maybe now… maybe Dante will do what I couldn’t.” She lifted my chin gently, forcing my eyes to meet hers. “You can make this easier for yourself. Be his. Please him. Give him what he wants, and in time… it won’t feel like punishment, you might even begin to enjoy it. Men like Dante, they take what they desire, but they’re not always cruel about it.” I staggered back in disbelief at the words my aunt was spewing. Her eyes were calm, as if she believed every word she’d just said. She had become a woman with no conscience. How could she think I’d ever enjoy being touched by a monster? As though on cue, the door pushed open. Camilla flinched and stepped back. He crossed the room like a storm wrapped in human skin, and I hated how my body still reacted to his presence. He carried a certain aura of power and heat that both confused and awakened something in me at the same time. “That’s convincing enough,” he said coolly. “I’m sure she understands now.” Camilla turned back to me. She leaned in, kissed my forehead gently. “Remember everything I said,” she murmured. “Use what you have. Get what you can. Survive.” And just like that, she was gone. It all made sense now. That was why Dante brought her in. She wasn’t trying to save me. She was here not just to prepare me, but to break me, before he even had the chance. Dante grabbed my hand, ignoring every protest I made, and walked me back to the table, where the document was laid out. “Are you ready to sign now?” I stared at the pages. My vision blurred, and for a moment, I wasn’t sure if it was the ink or my tears smearing the print. This was it. I was about to sign away my freedom. My body. My will. Everything. But my fingers froze over the pen. A little part inside me screamed for leverage. A possible chance that offered me a way out someday. If I had to sell my soul, I needed to at least choose one condition. My eyes met his. “If I’m going to sign this… I want something in return.” Dante’s face hardened, his patience wearing thin. “I’m paying off your father’s debt. I’m offering you not just protection but provision of the finest things life has to offer. And you want more?” “There’s something else,” I continued, my voice firmer this time. “Something that mattered to me before all of this. I’d like to finish it.” He exhaled sharply, frustrated. “Let me hear this thing that’s worth more than everything I’ve already offered you.” I dropped the pen and stood straight. “I want to go back to college.” His expression shifted. “I already started my degree in Business Management. This is my final year. I want to finish it.” The coldness returned to his face immediately. “No.” “Why?” “That’s not happening,” he said, flat and final. “I’m not letting you go back to college, for obvious reasons.” “But…” “If you sign this,” he cut in sternly, “you’re giving up your freedom. That includes where you go, who you see, what you do.” My voice cracked. “What could I possibly do at school that threatens you?” He leaned in, eyes like steel. “Spending hours away from my supervision. Without my men. No eyes on you. You could run. Disappear. And we both know you’d try.” “But your men would find me,” I said, trying to steady my voice. “Isn’t that what you told me before? That there’s no escaping you?” I don’t know where the courage came from, but I reached for his hand. His eyes moved down, surprised. So was I. “I need this degree,” I whispered. “It’s been my dream since I was little, to one day prove my father wrong. To take over his company. To make something of myself.” Tears welled up again, but this time, I let them fall. Then I said the words I didn’t know I had in me. “Imagine if I was your daughter. Imagine if everything was stripped away from her in one night. Wouldn’t you still want her to have that one thing that was hers?” For a moment, he didn’t move. Then a wave of emotions flashed across his features, like the word daughter opened something in him he didn’t want anyone to see. His voice was lower when he finally spoke. “I’ll have the lawyers add it to the contract… but under my strict conditions. Is that understood?” I nodded quickly. “Yes. Thank you.” My gaze dropped, and I realized my hand was still over his. Before I could pull away, he caught my wrist, and in one swift move, pulled me toward him until my body collided with his chest. “We’ll finalize the contract in the coming days,” he said, low and commanding. Then, without warning, he lifted me into his arms, slinging me over his shoulder like I weighed nothing. I gasped. “What are you…?” “It’s time I claimed what I own.” And just like that… the illusion of mercy I had vanished. Chapter 9: Standing Naked Before Him Gia’s POV The door slammed shut behind us. Before I could gather my breath, Dante tossed me onto the massive bed like I weighed nothing. The mattress dipped beneath me, but my heart fell faster. I scrambled instinctively, retreating toward the headboard, my knees drawn in like a shield. But it was useless. There was no shielding myself from him, not from the way he looked at me, not from what I knew was coming. He stood at the foot of the bed, tall and still, his presence swallowing the room. And his eyes, God, those eyes, grey and burning. The way he looked at me sent tingles shooting down my spine, awakening parts of me I didn’t even know existed. “Come here,” he ordered. I froze. When I didn’t move, didn’t breathe, he stepped forward, grabbed my ankle, and with one smooth, possessive tug, dragged me toward the edge of the bed like I was his property. “Pretty doll,” he murmured. “You do know what’s about to happen.” My mouth parted, but no sound came out. So I nodded, a soft surrender. He cupped my cheek as his thumb brushed over my skin, gently, and it confused me. It shouldn’t have felt good, but it did. Too good. A tremble coursed through me, and I flinched, not from fear but from the rush of sensation his touch provoked. “I’m ready,” I whispered, lying back stiffly, eyes squeezing shut. “You can start.” That was a desperate lie. I was anything but ready. My entire body trembled, not just from fear but from the weight of everything. This wasn’t about it being my first time, but everything else. My father made sure I was never allowed to have friends, let alone a boyfriend. I’d never so much as kissed a boy, never gone to parties, never flirted. I wasn’t allowed on dates, not to school dances, not even to the mall without a guard. The men he assigned to me made sure no one ever dared to get close. I wasn’t allowed to watch anything romantic or remotely inappropriate. Everything I did was monitored. The only glimpses I had of what romance or sex could be like came from the forbidden novels my aunt used to sneak under my pillow, and from what I learned in biology class. That was it. Just the basics. And now, I was lying here, nervous, completely out of my depth, about to be touched and claimed by a man who saw me as nothing but a body to unleash his revenge on. When I opened my eyes, I expected to find him undressing or climbing over me. But he hadn’t moved. He stood there, watching me in disbelief. He tilted his head and let out a low chuckle, soft and almost mocking. “Pretty doll,” he repeated, voice heavy with something darker. “You don’t make the rules here. I do. And no… you’re not just going to lie there like a piece of meat waiting for slaughter.” His tone shifted, deeper, more primal. “You will be a willing participant.” I narrowed my eyes. “Lying here without screaming while you do whatever you want, that’s participation enough. Don’t expect more.” His smirk deepened. “You love testing me, don’t you? That mouth of yours...” He moved closer. His thumb brushed over my lips so seductively it made me gasp. “You’re going to learn what happens when you test me.” “I… I wasn’t trying to,” I stammered. But even I didn’t believe it. “Shhh.” He raised a single finger. “No more excuses.” Then, with a glint of heat and hunger in his gaze, he said darkly, “Now, pretty doll… I want to see you naked.” “What?” “Strip,” he repeated, slower this time. “A special tease. Just for me.” My insides twisted with disgust. “No. I won’t,” I said firmly. “I refuse to dance naked for the man who shot my father.” His expression shifted slightly, and a glint of amusement flashed in his eyes. “You’re aware I bought your virginity?” “And I’m fulfilling my end,” I fired back, chin high. “I’m offering my body. But you’re asking for something more.” “More?” His voice dipped, colder. “You have no idea how much more this is going to be. You think this ends tonight?” He reached for me again, dragging his fingers from my jaw down the center of my chest. His touch was light, maddening. He paused at my cleavage, his thumb dipping between the swell of my breasts, barely grazing. “You haven’t signed the mistress contract yet… but that doesn’t change what you are. And if you think you’ll keep your pride and your rules in this arrangement,” he leaned in, voice like a warning, “you’re sorely mistaken.” I swallowed hard and forced myself to meet his eyes. “Then I’ll hold onto the one thing I still have left. Because I haven’t signed.” That did it. The smirk disappeared, replaced by a burning look of anger. “Don’t play smart with me,” he warned. “It won’t end well.” I shifted subtly away from his touch, his presence suffocating. “I told you before, no part of you would be spared in this. And if you value that little college bargain you begged for, the one I generously intend to add to the contract...” His voice became cruel again. “Then get up. Strip. And make it worthy.” My throat tightened. My chest ached. I wanted to push back at him. But I was also afraid he’d change his mind about the one thing I begged for, college. That he’d take it back with a snap of his fingers. That he’d remind me again who held the power here. Swallowing hard, I sat up from the bed, mentally preparing myself for what was about to happen. Gia, just do it. His eyes were on me the second I stood, scanning, devouring, making it hard to breathe. I could feel his gaze trailing along my skin like a slow burn, every inch he lingered on sparking something electric inside me. I hated how easily these strange feelings stirred up in me. I reached for the hem of my clothes clumsily, trying to get it over with quickly, just get it done. But his voice stopped me. “Not so fast,” he murmured, the annoyance in his tone freezing me in place. “Slowly... and seductively. I want to see all of you… opened up for me.” Then he moved, reached for a remote on the nearby table, and pressed a button. The lights dimmed into a soft golden glow, and it felt like I’d stepped into another world, half real, half dream. He walked to the table, poured himself a glass of scotch, and returned to the bed. He sat down with his legs spread wide, glass in hand, like a king expecting his entertainment. His eyes never left mine. “Dance for me.” “I’m... not much of a dancer,” I replied, fidgeting under the heat of his stare. “I’ve never…” “Quit arguing,” he cut in. “You’ll obey every word I say. No thinking. Just feel. Follow my voice.” I sucked in a deep breath. “Close your eyes,” he continued, his tone softening but no less firm. “Let the music lead you.” Everything in me resisted at first, the awkwardness, the awareness of his gaze, the tight knot of fear in my chest. But something in his voice… and the dim atmosphere pulled me in. So I did it. I shut my eyes. The music rose around me, romantic confessions of what a lover was going to do to his partner on the bed, and I let it seep into my skin. I stopped thinking and just let the beat lead me as my hips began to sway slowly. My arms followed, lifting above my head, then sliding into my hair, fingers tangling through the strands with a lazy, seductive grace. I turned, arching my back to the music, hands gliding down the center of my body, tracing the curve of my waist until they settled on my hips, rotating side to side, in rhythm, in surrender. It didn’t feel like I was controlling it anymore, rather as if my body had broken free, led by something wild and untamed. A kind of freedom I had never tasted before. Then I heard the sound of ragged breath. I opened my eyes, startled, and found Dante watching me, his eyes wild and his scotch forgotten. “Take off your clothes,” he ordered. “One piece at a time.” With trembling fingers, I unhooked the flimsy bra. My breath caught as it loosened, fell, and my breasts spilled free. His gaze dragged over them like he was starving. My nipples tightened under the heat of his stare. Still, I kept moving as I reached for my shorts and pushed them down my hips, letting them slide off before flinging them aside. The longer he looked at me like that, as though I was the only thing he could see, as though my body had power, the more I started to crave it. To enjoy it. I swallowed as my hand moved downwards, almost shakily, brushing along my hips. The moment my fingers hooked in the waistband of my panties, my nerves rushed in. I wiggled my hips, slowly sliding the lacy material down my legs. It pooled at my feet, and I stepped out of it. His gaze trailed low and lingered on the soft V between my thighs. Heat exploded across my face as a wave of shame shot through me. I instinctively closed my hand over my mound, the other arm flying up to shield my breasts. “Gianna,” his voice cut through the music. My body trembled from the dark guttural sound of his voice. “Take your hands off,” he commanded again, firmer this time. “I want to see everything.” Then slowly, I lowered my arms. First from my breasts, then from between my legs. “Don’t ever hide your body,” he murmured, eyes locked on me. “Not from yourself. And never from me.” Now I was standing before him completely naked. He got up from his seat and started walking toward me. The closer he came, the faster my heart beat. My cheeks burned, and I could barely breathe. Then it started again, that feeling I didn’t understand. A warm, throbbing ache built between my legs, growing stronger with every step he took. Gia… what is this monster doing to you?