Sold to the Mafia king

Lina’s POV

The first time Ruciano hit me, I told myself it was a mistake.

The second time… I learned how to stay quiet.

“Don’t you fucking say that, Lina. You’re the one who always acts impulsive,” Ruciano snapped. “You nag about one thing or the other. What do you even gain from getting me this worked up, huh? Tell me.”

His voice cut through the room. Sharp. Unforgiving. Like it could slice through anything else in here. He paced, fingers dragging through his hair, teeth clenched, like he was the one losing control, and I was supposed to be the storm.

And somehow… that broke something in me.

I opened my mouth. Ready to fire back. Ready to defend myself. But the words got stuck. Somewhere between my chest and throat. If I spoke… I’d cry. And I refused. Refused to let him see it.

“Say something,” he pressed, stopping right in front of me. “You always have something to say.”

I inhaled. Slowly. My hands stayed at my sides, stiff and cold.

“What exactly do you want from me, Ruciano?” My voice barely above a whisper, steadier than I felt. “Tell me. Because I’ve done everything. Everything. I’ve defended you, stayed quiet when I shouldn’t have, bent myself into someone I don’t even recognize anymore.”

He scoffed. “Oh, here we go.”

“No,” I snapped, something sharp cutting through finally. “Don’t dismiss me. Not this time.”

His jaw tightened, but I didn’t stop.

“I won’t keep destroying myself just because I love you,” I continued. My voice trembling, despite all I’d done to hold it together. “I won’t kill myself trying to be the girlfriend you—”

The slap came out of nowhere.

Not just a sound. A shock. Loud. Sudden. Final.

My head snapped to the side. Pain bloomed. Hot. Immediate. But the real damage… it settled somewhere quieter. Somewhere deeper.

For a second, I didn’t see the man in front of me.

I saw the boy who used to look at me like I mattered.

I didn’t know when he disappeared.

I tasted blood.

Silence followed. Thick. Suffocating.

He stepped back. Like he hadn’t meant it. Like his own hands had betrayed him. Like this wasn’t the second time.

I let out a soft laugh. One which didn't sound like me.

“You hit me,” I whispered. Barely above a whisper. “Again.”

“Lina, I—”

“You hit me. Again,” I repeated. My voice shaking. Despite everything. And you know what? His silence hurt more than the slap.

I turned and left. Before he could say anything else. Before he could apologize. Before he could explain. Before I could forgive him out of habit.

Why was I still in this relationship?

All I ever got lately were insults, outbursts, ungrateful remarks… and now this. It hadn’t always been like this. In the beginning—laughters, long calls, stupid plans about the future. Somewhere along the way, without warning, he changed. Completely.

And I stayed.

The night air hit differently outside. Colder. Heavier. Or maybe… just me.

I walked. No direction. My thoughts were loud. Messy. Unbearable. Part of me—some fragile, stupid part, waited for footsteps behind me.

For him to call my name.

For him to choose me.

He didn’t.

I stopped at the corner. Wiped my face roughly. Couldn’t go home like this. Mom would see everything. And her worry… would break me in ways I couldn’t fix.

I reached for my phone—

Then something shifted.

Not loud. Not obvious.

Just… wrong.

I froze. Breath caught. Eyes scanning the street.

Three… maybe four men in black. Moving fast.

Not running. Hunting.

Chest tight. I ducked behind a tree. Bark rough against my skin. Boots hitting pavement. Heavy. Deliberate.

There was someone ahead. Running. Not screaming. The silence—worse than any shout.

My phone vibrated.

Ruciano.

My thumb hovered. Locked the phone. Pocketed it. I had nowhere else to go.

Then I remembered… Cathy. She might… accommodate me.

Rang her bell once. Twice. Nothing.

I turned to leave, and the door burst open.

“Lina?” Cathy blinked. Eyes wide. “What are you doing here so late? Oh my God—come in. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want to talk,” I said. “Please. I just need to sleep.”

She stepped aside. Quiet. Immediate.

I collapsed on the couch. Mind fading. Sleep dragging me under.

~~~

“You didn’t get back home last night, Lina,” Mom snapped. “And now you’re standing here telling us you were fired?” her voice was rising. “I am sure it’s because of that Ruciano boy. Directly or indirectly. I warned you. Told you to leave him alone. He’ll be the end of you one day—mark my words.”

She stormed out. Anger trailing like smoke.

She wasn't wrong. At all

Dad stayed. Silent. Watching. Something unfixable in his gaze.

“When your mother said Ruciano was behind you losing your job—indirectly—you didn’t deny it,” he said, calm, heavy. “That tells me enough.”

I swallowed.

“That man has nothing good to offer besides pain,” he continued. “Let this unhealthy relationship leave your life. And let yourself grow—mentally, emotionally, in every way. Or else… he truly might be the end of you.”

Disappointment cut deeper than anger ever could in Dad's voice.

“Okay, Dad,” I whispered.

He shook his head. Walking away. Silence settled dangerously, it was heavier than shouting.

I sank into it. Needed to leave Ruciano. I didn't even know why I stayed. All he gave me lately was… chaos. Bruised emotions. Fear. Love? Sure. But not returned. Not the way that matters.

I went upstairs. Shut my bedroom door. Dropped my bag. Collapsed onto bed. Exhaustion pressed against my chest. Breathing felt like work. Sleep was the only escape.

When I woke, my vision blurred. Head heavy. Sun dipping toward its horizon. Light soft through the window.

I exhaled.

I need to see Ruciano today.

I need to end this.

I quickly freshened up. Changed. Stepped outside. Night already settled. Mom was still in the kitchen. Tina and Romy were laughing. No one noticed me leave.

I called Ruciano as I walked, telling him I’d be there in a few minutes.

Fortunately, he was at home. That was a relief—one less excuse, one less delay.

But something about the night felt wrong. Since I stepped out, I've been feeling it. The unease that settled in my chest.

The street was usually quiet. Too still. Maybe I was the one overthinking it.

I was halfway down the street when a white van pulled up beside me. So fast and close to me.

My body reacted before my mind did, a sharp spike of fear shooting through me, but it was already too late.

The doors slid open. Four men stepped out. Black masks. Dark clothes. Movements precise. It was as if they had practiced it.

They surrounded me in seconds.

One behind me.

Two at my sides.

One in front.

My heart slammed violently against my ribs. I opened my mouth to scream—

A hand clamped over my face. The smell hit instantly. Sharp. Chemical.

“No—!”

Panic exploded through me as I struggled, my fingers clawing at the arm around me, nails digging into fabric, into skin—anything. My body twisted, kicked, fought—

But they were stronger.

Everything started slipping.

My lungs burned. My vision blurred at the edges.

A voice leaned close to my ear, calm… almost bored.

“You should have stayed home.”

My movements slowed despite me. My strength drained like something was pulling it out of me piece by piece.

“Too late,” he added softly.

Almost immediately, my body went limp but my mind was still awake long enough to realize one thing. This wasn’t random.

“Loved, betrayed… and delivered,” one of them commented and the rest laughed. Then everything went blank.