Sold to the Mafia king

Lina's POV

"You brought her here for a debt?"

A voice broke through the darkness-cold, steady, unfamiliar. I wasn't fully conscious yet, but the sound sliced through the fog in my head like a blade. My eyes were blindfolded. My mouth was sealed with tape. My hands were pinned behind me.

I couldn't see. I couldn't speak. All I could do was listen.

"It's... not what you think, Boss. I had no choice." The second voice trembled, a familiar tremble I couldn't place yet. "The enforcers said it was either I repay the debt and walk away... or they kill me. I had no choice but to use her as leverage. They asked for someone expendable, Boss."

"And she was expendable enough?" The first voice replied with a calmness too controlled to be real. That kind of calm only existed before storms-or executions.

"I... I thought it was the only way," the second voice stuttered. "Everything I touch ruins me. The enforcers don't forgive."

"So she's worth your life, huh?" The words cut through the air, sharp and offended, as if the excuse itself disgusted him.

"I didn't plan any of this, Boss."

"You should've planned before running to my money lenders for a loan." His voice stayed low. Steady. Unmoved. "I don't care. Rules are rules. Laws are laws. You break them, you pay dearly."

My heart slammed violently against the tape over my mouth.

Are they talking about me?

The second voice, why did it sound like someone I should recognize?

"She's mine now," the first man said, final. "Cross me again, and what you'll pay next won't be debt."

"T-thank you, Boss." Relief poured from the second man's voice, heavy enough to choke the room. A door slammed moments later, echoing like a gunshot. That was when panic tore the air from my lungs.

I didn't even realize I was thrashing until my body jerked violently against whatever I was tied to.

Was I... sold? Traded? Used to clear someone's debt like an object?

"Hmph-!" I tried to scream. The tape swallowed the sound.

"This one belongs to me," the first man said again, as if stamping ownership into the air. "Put her in one of the cellars. Give her what she request for until I decide when I'm coming for her. Understood?"

"Roger that, Padrone." The title landed like a blow.

Padrone.

No one used that name lightly in the underworld.

This is real.

I jerked again-harder this time-and suddenly fingers gripped my jaw. The tape was ripped from my mouth in one brutal motion. Fire shot across my skin, sharp and burning, before fading too quickly. Then the blindfold came off.

Light attacked my vision. I blinked rapidly, my eyes burning until shapes slowly came into focus.

A warehouse. Wide. Shadowed. Alive. This place wasn't abandoned. It was being used.

Someone was walking away from me. Tall. Broad shoulders. Thick black hair. I only saw his back, but authority radiated from the way he moved. He didn't rush. Didn't hesitate. Every step belonged to him.

"Wait-please." My voice broke. "Please let me go. I beg you."

He didn't turn. Didn't pause. Didn't even acknowledge that I existed in that environment.

Hands grabbed my arms, dragging me forward with effortless force. My feet stumbled against the floor as they pulled me toward what they called a cellar.

My mind spiraled.

Who would do this to me? I had never harmed anyone. I didn't know gamblers. I didn't know criminals. I barely even argued with people.

Yet here I was-sold like a bargaining chip to a man whose face I hadn't even seen. What if he's a butcher? A trafficker? A murderer?

The monsters in my head multiplied with every step.

The men dragging me didn't help. They didn't speak. They didn't look at me. Black from head to toe-uniformed. Intentional. I'd seen this before.

Ruciano's street. That day. The masked men. The chase.

These men moved the same way. Dressed the same way. Silent. Loyal. My breath hitched.

Whatever world they belonged to-I had just been dragged into it. And there was no waking up from this. The ropes bit into my wrists as they tightened their grip on my arms. My chest felt unbearably heavy, like my heart was being crushed into something too small to hold it.

"Please..." My voice cracked. "What's happening? I didn't do anything wrong. Please just let me go. I swear-I won't tell anyone. Please..."

Silence.

Thick. Stubborn. Suffocating.

They didn't even spare me a glance. No reaction, no hesitation-just cold bodies escorting me deeper into whatever nightmare I'd stumbled into.

"Are you deaf?" The frustration burst out of me, rough and sharp. "Answer me!" My breath sped up with every step. I twisted my wrist, yanking against their grip, but their hands were clamps-unmoving, merciless.

Still no response.

The hallway was dimly lit, shadows stretching across the walls as if guiding us somewhere I didn't want to see. One man walked ahead. The other stayed behind me, close enough that I could feel his presence pressing in.

We descended a long flight of stairs. The air grew colder with every step.

Just two days ago, my life was normal. Quiet. Uneventful. I kept to myself. I avoided trouble. I didn't owe anyone. I didn't hurt anyone.

Now... I didn't even have the strength to fight. Or argue. Or scream. My voice trembled. My body felt hollowed out, exhausted by fear alone.

We stopped.

A huge metallic door loomed in front of us-intimidating, industrial, humming faintly with security. A door like that wasn't meant for storage.

It was meant to keep something in. The cellar.

The man in front punched in a passcode.

A cellar with a passcode? The heavy lock clicked. The door groaned open. The room beyond was dim, its edges swallowed by shadows. One man stepped inside first and reached for a switch. Harsh lights flickered to life-cold, unforgiving. The space was bare. Too bare.

They loosened the ropes around my wrists. Before I could react, they dragged me down another set of stairs. The moment my feet touched the concrete floor, freezing air swept over me, wrapping around my skin like icy fingers.

I turned slowly, forcing myself to look. A metal table sat at the far end of the room. Tools rested on top-tools I didn't want to identify.

And right in the center... A drain.

A drain.

The meaning of it settled deep in my bones.

The men left without a word. The heavy door slammed shut behind them, the sound echoing violently through the space.

Sealed. Locked. Hidden.

Escape was impossible-not with a passageway that required a code, not with a place designed to keep someone trapped.

Why was this happening to me? I'd already lost my job. Then I was abducted. Now I was being tossed into a cellar like livestock sold to the highest bidder. My legs gave out. I stumbled to the far corner, curling into the shadows. Tears spilled before I could stop them-hot, silent, relentless.

~~~

The sound of the lock snapped me awake. My eyes flew open as the door unlocked again. A figure stepped inside.

Tall. Broad. Muscular.

Even his silhouette radiated dominance. He walked down the stairs slowly, deliberately-each step measured, as if he wanted me to feel him before I saw him.

Cold. Controlled. Mean.

He hadn't reached the light yet, but everything about him screamed danger.

"Please..." My voice trembled as I pushed myself backward, my palms scraping the floor. "Just let me go. I haven't harmed anyone. I didn't-"

His footsteps halted, stopping him in track.

"Princess." The way he said it-slow, mocking-made the word feel filthy. "You're already mine," he said calmly. "You belong here. With me."

A pause.

"Make peace with your little demons about not having anyone to run home to. Not even your pretty family. I'm sure they'll find someone else to fix their problems." Every word dripped with sarcasm.

And possession.

I lifted my chin despite the fear burning my chest. "You don't get to decide that."

Silence.

Then he stepped fully into the flickering light.

My breath vanished. The shadows peeled away from his face, and everything snapped into place-the authority, the tone, the threat.

The director. How is that even possible?