Chapter 4 Pawn to Award

Serena~

"Dad, did you call us?" The three men I had encountered in the basement just minutes ago entered the hall, their expressions serious. They stood in front of the old man with their heads bowed, their voices eerily similar to Dante's in obedience.

"Please kneel," Marco whispered, his grip tight on my neck. His voice wasn't commanding, though-it almost felt like he was pleading. His eyes met mine for a moment as if silently begging me to obey. But I wouldn't. I shook my head, refusing to kneel before this monstrous man.

Marco's jaw clenched in frustration, and I could see the storm brewing behind his eyes. He tightened his grip, but before he could force me, the old man's voice cut through the air like a whip.

"Leave her, Marco. Don't waste your energy just yet." He gave me a brief, chilling glance, then turned to Marco.

"Take your place."

Reluctantly, Marco released me and stepped back, his expression unreadable as he joined the others. I watched him walk away, surprised at the obedience he showed. He was different from Dante, but his eyes showed dedication to their father.

Moments later, Dante entered the hall, his presence overwhelming the space. The room fell deathly silent, the tension pressing down on me like a weight.

What are they planning? What're they going to do with me?

I stared at the five men, each standing in a row, their heads bowed like they were waiting for their master's approval. It didn't seem possible-these men, who commanded fear in the mafia world, looked like nothing more than obedient servants now. They were at the mercy of their father, just like I was.

"On my last birthday," the old man began, his voice slow and deliberate, "I announced that I would retire soon and pass on the leadership of the Romano family. I promised to choose my heir from among my five sons."

He paused, casting a piercing glance at each of them. None of the brothers dared to lift their heads.

Why am I here? What does any of this have to do with me? I felt a sense of dread curling in the pit of my stomach. I wasn't part of their family, nor a threat to them. I had nothing to do with their empire-yet here I was, in the middle of their twisted game.

"Dante," the old man addressed his eldest son first. "You've proven your worth time and time again. Your loyalty to the family and your results speak for themselves."

Dante immediately dropped to his knees and kissed his father's hand, his earlier coldness transforming into submissiveness. I couldn't believe it-he looked like a dog, obeying his master.

"Thank you, Dad," Dante said, his voice soft with reverence. I felt a surge of disgust watching him grovel; the image of this feared mafia leader kneeling so willingly burned into my mind.

"But, Luca," the old man continued, his gaze shifting to the second brother, "your work at the club and brothel has also been critical." I can not overlook that."

"Thank you, Dad." Luca's playful demeanor was replaced by humility as he kneeled, following Dante's lead.

It was bizarre-just moments ago,he had been undressing me with his eyes, and now he knelt like a servant.

"Marco," the old man's eyes fell on the brother who had tried to show me kindness. "You've been Dante's shadow, always watching, always loyal. Your alliances have strengthened our power."

"Thank you, Dad." Marco's face showed a glimmer of pride as he kneeled before the old man, but there was something else in his expression-something that looked like doubt or regret.

"Rico," the old man said, his tone softer. "You've been my most calculated son. You always think before acting, and that's why you're my favorite after Dante."

"Thank you, Father." Rico's voice was devoid of emotion as he knelt, his movements stiff and precise. Everything about him was controlled and cold.

"And Vito," the old man's voice warmed as he addressed his youngest son. "You've made the enemies of the Romano family tremble. Your madness has served us well."

The old man's booming laughter echoed through the hall as Vito kneeled with a wicked grin. There was something wild in his eyes-something dangerous. His chaos wasn't just a tool for power; it was who he was.

I stood in the center of the room, stunned by what I was witnessing. These men, who commanded armies of criminals, easily bowed to their father. The old man sat in the middle of the hall like a ruthless king, surrounded by trophies of dead animals. The heads of tigers, leopards, and lions hung from the walls, a testament to his savagery.

The way he praised his sons-it was clear there was competition between them. They weren't just a family; they were warriors, fighting for the same prize. And yet, I still didn't know how I fit into any of this. Why was I here? What did they want from me?

The old man's voice broke through my thoughts, cold and calculating. "Now, as you all know, I've been observing each of you closely. Your actions, your results-they've all been impressive."

Dante raised his head slightly, daring to speak. "What's your decision, Dad?"

The old man's lips curled into a cruel smile. "It's not easy for me to choose. You've all shown your strengths, but I need more. I need to know who is truly worthy to lead."

My heart raced. What was he going to say?

"I've decided to start a new competition," the old man said, his smile widening. "The one who kneels this woman"-he pointed at me-"in front of me and breaks her pride will be the next leader of the Romano family."

My blood ran cold.

The brothers' heads snapped up in shock. Even they hadn't expected this.

"What?" I whispered, disbelief flooding my veins. I wasn't just a pawn anymore. I was the prize.

The old man's eyes gleamed with malice. "The first one of you to succeed in breaking her will inherit everything."

The room grew tense, the air thick with the unspoken challenge. I stood frozen, unable to comprehend what I had just heard. I was nothing to them. A tool. A prize in their twisted competition.

Dante's voice was the first to cut through the silence. "As you wish, Dad. We will do whatever it takes to make her kneel."

The brothers rose, their eyes cold and determined as they turned toward me. Each gaze was a promise of destruction-Dante's calculated stare, Luca's lust-filled smirk, Marco's sympathetic yet resigned glance, Rico's sharp eyes assessing every move I made, and Vito's unblinking, chaotic expression.

I tried to step back, but my legs refused to move. My heart raced, and my body trembled as they moved closer, their presence suffocating me. They were going to tear me apart, each in their way.

Darkness crept in from the edges of my vision; the fear and pressure were too much to bear. My legs buckled beneath me, and before I could scream or fight back, everything went dark.