Chapter 4 Milo pov

Chapter 4

Milo's pov

I stopped breathing, no, my breathing stopped entirely for a second.

I trembled in fear as I continued to stare at the tag on the cage with the name on it...

Millen!.

My name. That was the fake identity I was bearing. My sister's name, but that didn't make it any less scary. Instead I felt feeling if dread pass through me.

The cage was for me, meant and built specially for the pet.

Noo, this was not happening. I kept on repeating while moving stepping back.

My fingers were trembling so badly but that was the least of my concerns.

This was a nightmare. A sick, twisted joke.

I knew what this meant... I had heard the stories.

The Mafian King, A man that can put terror on anyone just from his mere presence. He was a ruthless man who ruled with an iron hand. And not just that, the terrible way he treats his numerouse concubines like a plaything is nothing to write home about.

I remember a particular story of his fellow rival mafia who refused to obey him.

The mafia lord had gone and conquered his domain. He killed the man and took his wife as his plaything. As the story goes, the woman later took her own life when she could not take the abuse and torturing she was undergoing in his hands.

I had thought them to be fairy tales and midnight jokes that the elders would say to scare us, but seeing this with my own eyes

The so-called rumors I had laughed at once were coming to reality.

staring at the cage meant for me, I realized something cold and horrifying.

I can't do this!

I had to get out. And run, before it becomes late.

My heart pounded violently as I made up my mind. Damn the rules or whatever sick gamble my father had gotten himself into.

I wouldn't stay here for even a minute more.

I turned back with force, my body screaming at me to move fast, as my mind was already made up to escape this hell hole.

But then...

I collided into something hard.

A body.

A strangled gasp left my lips, before I crashed down hard on my butt.

"Where are you going pet"

I froze.

my entire body turned cold. I felt the anger and rage inside the voice. It was coming off him in waves.

My body went rigid with unimaginable fear. I had been caught. I didn't need anybody to tell me what my fate would be.

I suddenly felt the urge to cry, as hot tears welled up in my eyes.

The Mafian King.

He stood there, easily towering over me like a tree. His dark eyes that was filled with depth I couldn't fathom locked onto me like a predator who had just found its prey.

I swallowed hard, my mind screaming at me to move, to speak, to do anything but noo...I stared like a fool.

Then, i remembered.

His commands just a few hours ago...

I was supposed to be naked.

It seems like the same time It occurred to me was the same time he noticed, as a low angry growl tore through his throat.

I had disobeyed him for the third time since I came here.

I had spent the entire day lost and helpless in the long corridors, playing his game. Then came the drama of meeting with the bitch in the corridor.

I had totally forgotten about his commands.

His gaze flickered over me, like he wanted to pounce on a prey.

I scurried back.

A mistake.

In a blink of the eyes, , he appeared in front of me.

A gloved hand held my throat, as I found myself being lifted up into the air, like I weighed nothing.

I let out a strangled gasp, my hands shooting up to grab his well built arms, but no matter how much I tried to push him to let go, it was like trying to move steel.

"You still seem to be confused about your pathetic place in this pack, pet." He growled, his voice smooth, but filled with a barely restrained wrath.

I trembled like a chicken in a slaughterhouse. I felt His grip becoming tighter on me, more painful.

"You thought you could wander around my castle like a lost pet? That you could defy the rules of my household?"

My eyes widened even wilder. How did he...?

His grip tightened. My lungs burned. Panic clawed up my throat.

"You need to be punished."

"No...noo"

I tried to shake my head, to say anything that would prevent him from punishing me, but his tight grip on my neck prevented me from saying anything, hot tears stung my eyes.

I felt my windpipe being crushed slowly.

I was choking. I couldn't get enough air into my lungs.

His dark eyes drank me in, basking in my pain like it was some sort of a nourishment to him.

When I couldn't take it anymore, without warning, he released me. I landed on the bare floor with a thud.

I barely had time to gasp for air, before I felt unimaginable pain explode from my back. was slammed against the wall, the impact of being slammed at the wall, sent a sharp jolt through my spine. My vision exploded with stars.

"Disobedient little things like you need to be reminded of their place," he said, his tone almost amused, almost gentle, but the light in his eyes said a different thing.

His fingers curled into my dress, gripping the thin fabric tightly

Panic screamed through me.

No.

I could already imagine what he wanted to do.

If he tore it, if he stripped me down to my naked self,

He would know that I am not my sister. He would know that I am a man.

My identity would be exposed before I could last a day.

I thrashed under his grip, this time Desperate and with renewed vigour. But it was all in vain. His iron grip was still clutched my dress in one hand while he tried to cage me in the other.

"Struggling will only make it worse, pet," he warned.

"Please don't..."

My stomach twisted violently.

I was doomed.

Any second now, he would realize that I am nothing but a fraud... an impostor...

"Master."

The voice cut through the air like a blade.

The Mafian King froze,

His fingers, still gripping my dress, froze just before they could expose me to the whole world.

Over his shoulder, I saw him.

The right-hand man.

Dressed in black, his face unreadable, his presence like a wall of ice against the heat of the moment.

"An emergency arised," he said, his tone cool, composed.

Silence stretched.

I felt the tension in the Mafian King's body, the way his fingers flexed against my skin, his grip on my hands turned painful as if he was battling within himself.

Then, without another word, he let me go.

My legs gave out beneath me, I collapsed like a sack of potatoes to the ground.

I tried to catch my breath, clutching my now ragged dress tightly against my chest to hide every bit of exposed skin.

The Mafian King didn't bother looking at me.

"We're not finished," he murmured as he passed me.

Then he disappeared together with his right hand man.

The door closed with a hard bang.

I lay there.

Trembling. Shaking from the near death encounter I just had.

The room was silent except for the sound of my ragged breathing, my body too weak to move, my mind too numb to process what had just happened.

All I could think about was that it was a close call.

After a long time had passed, I jerked up remembering his last words.

I rubbed my tender neck. I was sure it would leave an imprint.

I need to strip before he comes in again. The last time we were interrupted, I couldn't bear to think of what would happen next if he should come back, and I didn't do as he said.

Without wasting time, I stripped from the once beautiful dress, being only the pink lingerie I was made to wear.

My face burned in shame, at my naked reflection. I was still wallowing in my shame when I heard Soft footsteps.

I turned, expecting to see the mafia king, but I saw a familiar shadow at the doorway.

I dived for any nearest clothes, anything at all to cover my exposed body but it was too late.

I froze mid air, too shocked to move, as the person at the door was not the mafia king, it was the same proud bitch I had met in the hallway...

Catherine!!

AND SHE HAS SEEN ME NAKED.