Chapter 3 A Deal with the mafia Devil

Chapter 3: Taken

They came just after breakfast. No warning. No ceremony. No pretense.

Four black SUVs pulled up to the curb like wolves circling prey. Their windows were tinted, swallowing reflections. The doors opened in unison, and men in black suits spilled out. Identical. Expressionless. Predators in polished leather shoes.

Aria watched from the living room window, her hand frozen mid-air with a spoonful of untouched cereal. Her heart dropped.

They were here for her.

She turned sharply toward her parents.

Her mother sat stiffly at the table, her eyes downcast, fingers trembling around a chipped teacup. She didn't speak. Didn't move. Didn't even blink.

"Mom?" Aria's voice cracked.

Nothing.

Her father stood by the door, spine rigid, as though he'd been expecting this moment forever. "Don't fight them," he said flatly. "It'll only make it worse."

"You knew?" Aria whispered. "You knew they'd come like this?"

"You're not being dragged to a dungeon," he said sharply. "You're going to your future husband."

"My captor," she spat. "Call it what it is."

He opened his mouth, but the knock at the door stopped him.

Three short raps. Sharp. Final.

Her father didn't hesitate. He opened it.

The man at the front looked like he'd stepped out of a graveyard. Tall, bald, with an earpiece curled behind one ear and a scar trailing his jawline like a signature of violence.

"Is she ready?" the man asked.

"Almost," her father replied. Then turned to Aria. "Go upstairs. Pack."

"I'm not packing a damn thing."

"You will do this," he said, eyes flaring.

"No," she hissed. "You already sold me. Don't expect me to tie the bow myself."

The bald man stepped forward, but her father raised a hand.

"Give me two minutes," he said.

The man gave a tight nod. "Two. Then we take her as she is."

He stepped back. Her father shut the door and turned to her. "Don't humiliate us."

Aria shook her head slowly. "You know what the worst part is? Not that you sold me. Not that you lied. It's that you're acting like this is normal. Like I'm being dramatic for not wanting to be abducted."

Her father's mouth pressed into a hard line.

"Do you even feel anything?" she demanded. "Any guilt? Any shame?"

His silence was an answer.

She turned to her mother. "Mom. Please. Say something. Look at me."

Her mother didn't lift her eyes.

"Mom."

Nothing.

"You raised me. You told me to never let a man put a collar on me. You told me I belonged to no one. Where are you now?"

Her mother's lips trembled. But the words never came.

And that silence? That silence was a betrayal louder than a scream.

A tear slid down Aria's cheek.

"You're a coward," she whispered to both of them.

She didn't move to pack.

She stood there, trembling with fury, as the door opened again. This time, the men didn't wait.

Two of them walked in. Their gloves were black leather. Their expressions unreadable.

"You're coming with us."

Aria stepped back instinctively. "Don't touch me."

One of them reached for her arm.

She slapped his hand away.

Big mistake.

In a blink, he had her wrist twisted behind her back. The other grabbed her bag-pre-packed. Of course. Her father had done that too.

"Let me go!" she shouted, struggling. "You can't do this-!"

But they could. And they did.

Her father didn't flinch.

Her mother still didn't look at her.

As they dragged her to the door, her eyes locked on her mother's face for the last time.

A single tear rolled down her mother's cheek.

Too late.

The sun outside was blinding. The air was cold. The car door opened, and she was shoved inside like cargo.

The door slammed shut.

Darkness.

Silence.

Power.

She was trapped.

---

Inside the Car

Aria sat with her back pressed to the door, chest heaving. The man across from her-clearly the one in charge-watched her with vague interest, like one might observe a caged animal.

"What's your name?" he asked, his tone emotionless.

"You already know."

"Protocol," he replied. "Say it."

She glared. "Aria."

He nodded once. "Good. I'm Viktor. Head of security for the Moretti family. I'll be transporting you safely to the estate."

"'Safely' isn't the word I'd use," she muttered.

"I'm not here to hurt you," he said. "Unless you try something stupid."

She crossed her arms, heart pounding. "So what's next? You drop me off like a delivery package? Or do I get a welcome gift-maybe a leash?"

Viktor didn't blink. "Dante doesn't tolerate disrespect. If you value your tongue, you might want to keep it in your mouth."

"Let him rip it out," she snapped. "At least then I wouldn't have to speak to men like you."

He actually smiled. "He'll like you."

Aria turned her face to the window, blinking back tears she refused to shed.

Fields blurred past. Trees. Roads. Then iron gates.

And beyond those gates... a mansion.

No. A fortress.

Stone walls. Spiked fences. Armed guards.

Home sweet hell.

---

The McDonald's Estate

The car stopped. The door opened.

Aria didn't move.

Viktor leaned in. "Get out. Or we carry you."

She stepped out. Her knees trembled, but her spine stayed straight.

The air smelled like roses and ash.

The house loomed above her like a sleeping beast.

Black marble. Steel accents. Cold, brutal elegance.

A servant-young, female, silent-stepped forward and took her bag without a word.

Another woman, older, approached. Pale gray uniform. Tight bun. No smile.

"I'm Miss Lora. Head of household staff. You will address me properly. Follow me."

Aria did.

Inside, the house was worse.

Opulence without warmth. Chandeliers like icicles. Mirrors that didn't reflect comfort, only surveillance.

They reached a hallway lined with doors.

"This will be your room," Miss Lora said, opening one.

Aria entered.

Spacious. Modern. Immaculate.

A golden cage.

Lora turned to leave but paused. "He'll come to you tonight."

Aria's blood chilled. "Who?"

Lora arched a brow. "Your fiancé."

Then she left.

---

Hours Later

The sun had vanished. The moon watched from a distance, pale and indifferent.

Aria sat on the edge of the bed, still dressed in the same jeans and sweater she'd worn all day. Her hair was a mess. Her eyes were raw.

She didn't care.

She stared at the door. Waiting.

The knock came at midnight.

Not tentative.

Claiming.

She rose, heart hammering.

The door opened.

And there he was.

Dante McDonald's

Not in a suit this time. Just a black dress shirt, sleeves rolled up, veins dancing down his forearms. Sharp jaw. Eyes like frozen storms.

He stepped in and closed the door behind him.

Aria's fists clenched. "You didn't have to send your dogs. I'd have come willingly if you just asked."

He tilted his head. "No. You wouldn't have."

His voice was smooth. Low. Controlled.

She studied him like a puzzle she hated but had to solve. "So this is it? The grand reveal? The man I'm supposed to smile for while he owns me?"

"You'll smile," he said. "Eventually."

"I'd rather bleed."

He stepped closer. "You will. But not for the reasons you think."

Aria's breath caught.

"What do you want from me?" she asked.

He was silent for a long time. Then: "Obedience. Loyalty. And eventually... devotion."

"You'll get none."

He smiled faintly. "That's what they all say at first."

She stepped forward, fearless. "You might own my time. Maybe even my body. But not me. Never me."

Dante looked down at her, studying her like a chessboard. "Good. I'd hate for this to be boring."

And just like that, he left.

Leaving her alone.

Shaking.

But not broken.

Not yet.