Becoming the Mafia Don's Pet

A week passes by. A whole week with me being in the hands of mafia thugs so that my father can pay up his debt. It wasn't all that bad though. The men never touched me or harassed me in any way and although I spent my days in a room that had only a bed for me to sleep on, I was fed and cared for. There were bars on the windows to prevent me from escaping but it didn't matter. I was put in a room on the third floor. There was no way that I was even going to make it down if I somehow managed to get past the bars. My life had been monotonous with me mostly thinking of what my father was doing to get the money he owed and why he was taking so long. Well, my thoughts would no longer run wild, because my door opens up and the scarred man from earlier, Alfonso, walks in. He eyes me as I sit on top of my bed and closes the distance between us.

"Is he here? Can I go now?" I ask, relief washing over me as I get up from my bed and smile.

Alfonso's stoic expression turns grave as he shakes his head and puts his hands on his waist.

"Sorry love but your father isn't here for you."

My heart sinks. Where was he? What was he still waiting for? Regardless of all the questions I have in my mind, I focus on only the positive. It was the last day. My father would surely come up with the money to get me back, right?

"Maybe he's on his way. It's still early." I say out loud more to convince myself than to convince him. I turn away from Alfonso and crawl back into my bed, my eyes subconsciously glancing at the window, wishing for freedom.

"It seems like you don't understand what I'm saying. Your father isn't coming for you."

I scoff and face him.

"That's not true. He'll be here." I argue, not allowing my intrusive thoughts to win.

"He won't be. Your father is gone. Well, more like he packed up everything he had and ran away with the rest of your family. He left you to pay off his debt." He pronounces; his lips drawn in a straight line when he finishes.

I get up from my bed and straighten my shoulders. I understand that my father owes these people a lot of money, but he would pay back if I was in danger. He wouldn't just leave me.

"My father wouldn't do that. He'll be here."

Alfonso shrugs and puts one of his hands in his pockets, acting like he'd rather be anywhere else than dealing with me.

"Suit yourself. Either way, you're ours now and the boss has plans for you. So, behave and come with me."

I take three steps back to get as far away from him as possible and sneer at him.

"I am not going anywhere with you." I spit out, venom laced in my voice.

Alfonso just eyes me and sighs before raising his free hand up in the air.

"Fine by me."

He snaps his fingers, and two other men walk into the room. Their eyes settle on me, their target and in the blink of an eye, they surround me. I scream and try to maneuver my way around them, but it doesn't work. One of them grabs me by my hair, keeping me in place while the other, pins my hands down. Together they carry me to the bed, with the first one letting go of my hair and pinning my thrashing feet down. I struggle in their grip but then my eyes land on Alfonso who now has a syringe filled with a colorless liquid in his hands and is a step closer to the bed. I thrash around again, tears welling in my eyes.

"No. Please, no."

"I did tell you to behave." He says under his breath before I feel a sharp pain in my neck and my vision goes blurry. My hands and feet feel like lead and soon enough, I am not able to move them anymore. I open my mouth to plead one last time, the words on the tip of my tongue but they never come out. As the words die away, my vision darkens and all I can think about before I fade away is why would my father do this to me?

•••••

I float in nothingness and my body is light. My eyes are open, but I can't see a thing. Where am I? What happened? I hear voices ring into my ears and pull me from the darkness. Light shines on my eyes causing me to move my eyeballs with my eyelids.

The blinding light wakes me up from the dark domain and I struggle to open my eyes. Slowly but surely, I do and what I see floors me. I lay on one of the many podiums gagged, bound and tagged. As in there is a literal price tag tied to my neck. My eyes widen and I look around the room to get a feel for where I am.

The room is dimly lit, the air thick with tension. My head throbs, and my limbs feel like lead. The last thing I remember is Alfonso and then darkness.

As my mind races, I remember how I got here or how I may have gotten here. Alfonso and his men had held me down and injected me with something to knock me out. I still didn't know what here really was, but I began to hyperventilate. Tags, girls, excessively rich people that littered the floor. I knew what this was. I knew what the hell was going on. No. I cannot go out like this, I think to myself. I've seen the documentaries. I will not be sold like mere cattle. I need to escape.

I blink, trying to make sense of my surroundings. The cold metal of the podium presses against my bare feet. Below, on another platform, girls stand in a row. Their eyes are wide, their expressions a mix of fear and resignation. They wear elegant dresses, their hair styled flawlessly. But their eyes tell a different story—a story that I can't pinpoint.

I see people mingling on the floor below us, seemingly oblivious to the women who were being held down in front of them. The crowd beyond the velvet ropes is a sea of opulence. Men in tailored suits and women dripping with jewels. They sip champagne, their laughter echoing off the marble walls. They've come for the clandestine event where human lives are traded like commodities. An auction.

The host steps forward, his voice amplified by hidden speakers. His face is obscured by a mask, but his eyes gleam with malevolence.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Midnight Auction. Tonight, you have the privilege of owning the rarest of treasures—the untamed souls of these young women." He announces without any remorse in his voice. He must have done this a thousand times to be able to watch us all be sold.

"In the past auctions, we have just called out the price for each of the girls and allowed you to bud amongst yourselves. Tonight, will be different. The house will allow you to look at every girl and ascertain if she is to your taste. The prices are set but if you would like to bid higher than you would put your name and price on the paper kept in front of each of the girls. There will be thirty minutes to do that and then after it's all settled, the fun can really begin."

My heart races and I glance at the other girls. Some tremble; others stare defiantly ahead. I on the other hand was freaking out. The host speaks again.

"The thirty minutes start now. Please do enjoy yourselves and remember, play nice with the merchandise."

The guests of this perverted affair begin to split up into factions with one group heading to different podiums with girls on it. Most of the girls look like they have accepted their fate, and some are crying their hearts out. I am not as strong as some of them to keep a straight face, but I decide to play a dangerous game. If I'm going down, I'll go down fighting. I didn't want to be sold to some person as a slave or personal pet.

As the crowd disperses, inspecting the girls, I slump against the podium. I fiddle with my binds behind me and try to see if I can escape them. Their strong and tight, nothing a girl of my size would get out of unless they had a knife with them. Just like I watched on television, I grit my teeth and am about to try and break my wrist so that I can escape, when a short pot-bellied man approaches my podium and smiles at me.

I set my eyes on him with evident disgust on my face, trying to ward him off. He steps closer and grabs my chin roughly.

"Hmm, this one looks a little bit older than what I like. She got some flesh on her meaning that she'd last longer. I'd say we give this one a try."

I stare at him. Older than what he liked? I was only 22 for God's sake. What kind of fetish did this bastard have? The man brings his face closer and smells my neck and, in the process, drops my gag, which is when I bit him on his cheek to get him away from me. He muffles his scream with his teeth but doesn't hesitate to give me a slap across the face. I feel the sting and I'm sure that by now, my cheek would be blistering red. I hiss and spit in his face. He raises his hand to hit me again but is then stopped by someone who I can only assume is a bodyguard for us girls.

"No manhandling the girls, Mr. Cree."

"But she..." He tries to explain, but the look on the guard's face is absolute. Try that nonsense and I will throw you out.

Cree sighs and steps away from me. I think he's done, that he will walk off and never look in my direction again, but I am wrong. His eyes glance at the paper in front of me and he takes a look at it. He scoffs.

"A measly three million dollars for this one. I'll bid. It'll be fun breaking her."

He writes down a number I can't see and walks away with a maniacal laugh. I frown but at the back of my mind, I pray that I wouldn't be sold to anyone. It was a pipe dream yes, as he had already bid so now, my prayer was to be sold to someone else. Anyone other than that maniac.

People come and go, touching and accessing me and although I make myself seem undesirable, men and women alike keep on placing bids for me. I groan, feeling defeated until my gaze lands on someone. A stranger who for some reason purposefully strides over to my podium and eyes me, his eyes cold and discerning. His hair falls in long tresses down to his shoulders and his smile is electric. He wears an expensive suit which to his credit shows off his toned body effortlessly. The man is hot, but I shake my head, removing the thoughts from my mind. Regardless of how hot he was, if he was here then he was as bad as the rest of them.

"Hello." He says to me, his voice like dripping honey.

"Go away." Is all I can say to him. He steps closer and his fingers brush my cheek. I flinch.

"What's your name?" He asks.

I turn away not willing to give him the satisfaction of knowing who I was. He grips my chin and turns my face to his. A brow on his face raises, commanding me to answer. I did.

"Emilia."

"Emilia," he murmurs, and the sound of my name on his lips sends shivers down my spine.

"How did you get here?" He asks more like a rhetorical question than a real one.

I glare at him as he still holds my chin, my defiance bubbling up.

"What do you want?"

His lips curve into a dangerous smile.

"I didn't want anything at first but now I do. You."

I scoff.

"Do whatever you want. I will never be submissive."

He raises an eyebrow, accepting my dare.

"I don't expect you to."

He lets go of me and doesn't say another word as he writes down a number I still can't see. He raises his head from the paper, smirks at me and then walks away like nothing happened. My stomach turns. I have a bad feeling about this.

The thirty minutes are up, and the revelation of the bidding begins. The guests go back to their seats and once they settle in, the first girl is brought out. She sells for a hundred thousand. They pull her away with her screams echoing off the walls of the room. It goes that way for about an hour before men walk up to me and pull me off the floor. I struggle and try to break free, hoping that I can escape now that I am on my feet. Again, it didn't work. My eyes land on mystery man. He watches me with an intensity that unnerves me.

The men place me in the center of the stage and the host starts.

"Wow. It seems that a lot of you want this little catch for yourself. Let's see. The offer began at three million dollars, and it's gone way up. Holy hell. The last bid was seven million dollars. That's a lot of cash."

I stare at the man in shock. Mystery man was the last one to write a number. Could he be the highest bidder?

"Well, in the form of sportsmanship would anyone like to beat that?"

Cree's hand goes up and I can tell that he is upset with the way his nose flares.

"I bid eight million."

"Nine million." Mystery man says without even looking at the host. People begin to murmur in the crowd, and it seems that his bidding has caught some people's attention.

"Ten million." Cree shouts out.

"Eleven."

"This is getting interesting folks. Can I get twelve million? Twelve for the brown haired broad."

Cree prepares to call it, but the mystery man beats him to it.

"Twenty million for her."

Everyone gasps and turns to him, confused as to why he would pay such a sum for me. Even I am shocked. Cree screams his head off like a child and exits the room, but no one cares.

The bidding continues. The gavel goes down and my fate is sealed.

"Twenty million to the mafia don, Luca Hernandez. Congratulations on your bid sir."

The room erupts in an applause while I sit there and gape at the man, the realization setting in. A mafia don just bought me. Luca waves at me slowly with a devilish smirk on his face and I feel my world crash and burn. What would a mafia don want with me?