Possessed by the Mafia Don

Treading the carpet proved to be a long walk for Aria.

Her shoes pressed into the softness, and she felt her heart race as she covered the distance between the door and where he sat, one step after the other. It was not a long distance between the door and where he sat, but it felt endless and unsure for her, so that she lost the feeling of life in her legs as she moved, felt them quiver when she passed the other watching men, and almost crashed to the ground as she came to a halt before him.

Her eyes stung, and she did not know why, except that they hurt even worse when she tried to look up at him. Her skin could feel the other pairs of eyes watching her as well, like a specimen under scrutiny as they dissected and tore her apart. Not a single one of those eyes mattered as much as his, though, as she had made the deal with him and only him. It meant that his words were power, and she was subject to whatever sentence they pronounced.

There was silence for so long that she took a quick peek at his face and found him looking at her. His blue eyes showed nothing of the calm that the heart feels at the sight of that colour, but showed cruelty. It was the same with the smile on his lips, the smile he wore as his men gave her father what he called ‘the shaking’.

“This is the girl I told you all about. Daring, feisty, dutiful, strong… you name it. Here she is.” He grinned.

And all of a sudden there was a round of applause, a clear mockery to Aria. As they clapped, Don Nico held out his hand, and one of his men handed him a small bowl of grapes. He took one, tossed it in his mouth, and crushed the tiny fruit, all without that cruel smile leaving his lips. At last, he spoke again.

“Kneel.”

Aria felt her legs stiffen in response, and she watched him stare at her with an expression that communicated his unwillingness to ask her twice. Then she remembered her father.

Yes, she was doing all this for him.

Slowly, her knees bent until they pressed into the soft carpet that had paid her homage since she stepped foot into this room, her eyes on him the entire time. Her heart pounded with anticipation, not knowing what he was going to do next, and she tried to think of what she would not have given to be anywhere but where she was, waiting on his next order.

It came quickly, too.

“Strip.”

Her hands shook where they hung at her sides, and she clenched her jaw. Then she looked him straight in the eyes and shook her head. No. It was not going to happen.

“I knew you would,” he laughed, and then handed the bowl back to the guard. Then he rose up, charming as an angel with how his muscles ripped beneath the fabric of his dress shirt, which was tucked into a pair of cotton trousers. He rolled up the sleeves of that shirt, exposing a golden watch before bowing down so that his face hung right before Aria's. It no longer had that smirk, but the cruel look was well retained, so that he went from looking like a charming angel to being a charming devil.

“Yes or No?” He asked.

Aria started to shake her head.

“Yes, or No?”

“No.” She spat.

“A stubborn one we have here,” he grinned, before asking one last time. “Yes, or No?”

“No,” she said and then spat upon his shoe.

He recoiled as though he had been gravely harmed, while their ears were greeted by the sounds all the men around them made. To Aria, this was a sign that she had made her mark, and that they knew she was a different breed, stubborn to the end. Once more, she looked up at him and dared to smile.

Her victory lasted until she saw him reach to his waist, where a shiny belt held up his trousers and kept it stuck to his trim frame. He unbuckled it and drew it out in one slick motion, holding it in his hand and standing over her. The belt hung from his hand like something predatory, dangling as though it had a life of its own.

“Yes or No?”

Her pride kept her intact, kept her standing despite her fear of the pain she imagined she would feel once he struck. It was why she jumped up to her feet and attempted to attack him. It was a grave, sorry mistake.

He moved aside with the ease of someone who could have seen her coming in slow motion, so that she fell to the other side, leaving him unharmed. Around them, the watching men started to cheer, and it only served to trigger Aria and drive her into a bout of madness.

She jumped to her feet and with a yell, started to try to hit him, while the men sitting around cheered. Her moves made it clear that she was not the reason for their excitement, because her fists met empty air and she was doing everything but touching Don Nico.

It took only one move from him, one quick touch with his hands to send her down to the ground where she lay, heaving and breathless. Again he stood over her, victorious.

“A stubborn one we have here.” He announced.

Aria would have gotten back on her feet, but his hand went up in the air.

The belt was realer than fiction while hanging up there as she saw it. It coiled, uncoiled, furled, twisted, shook and breathed before it came down. Then she shut her eyes and waited for the pain, but it never came. It was only the sound of his voice that she heard, speaking in a baritone.

“I have not hit a woman before,” he began, and as she opened her eyes to look at him, he was slipping his belt back around his waist. “Not ever, and though this one tempted me to, I think we have seen enough to say that her sheer bravery is commendable. You all know I commend bravery, even from my enemies. I could spare those who show it.”

Murmurs of agreement followed his words.

“Young lady, get up and serve us.”

Aria heard him loud and clear, the tears streaming down from the sides of her eyes. His words jumped out at her, and at the same time, she remembered what Anita had said to her:

‘I do not know why, but I will only ask that you be wise. Act as you should, and you will be fine around here.’

She knew he was a part of the Mafia.

She knew he would kill her if he so wished and decide whether to dissolve her body in acid or to leave it where it would be posed as a lesson to be taught to all who did not want to learn. She had written enough articles over caffeinated eyes to know all that.

For now, and while she was alive, she could still return to her father and care for him. He needed her more than anything else in the world. He was already too damaged by the loss of Elena and Mabel to be stable enough. How much would he take if she lost her?

She had to please him, not disobey him.

Even if it was just for her father.

Slowly, and for so long she thought it would take forever for her to do what she wanted to, she got to her knees and knelt before him.

“Forgive me for my strong headedness, Don.”

“I would never hold any offence against a brave person. You are forgiven,” he commented, and all the men went into a round of applause as he returned to his seat. The bowl of grapes was returned to him, and he popped another one of the fruits into his mouth, his eyes staring down at her.

“Serve the men and go away,” he told her, sweeping his hand through the air.

It was with a feeling of relief over the unsmeared pride in her chest that she walked off, her face unashamed as the men mockingly clapped and cheered and hailed her bravery. The return journey was just as long as the beginning, and she pushed the doors open, and shut them behind her.

With a silent decision, she made her choice.

She would lear,n to live with the beast and not disobey him.

She was in his power, anyway.