A Virgin For The Mafia Prince

ELENA'S POV

The truck had rumbled to a stop, and my heart raced. The gate in front of us opened slowly, revealing a grand mansion that looked like it belonged in a fairy tale. Antonia, my cousin, and Uncle Julio were all dressed up, elegant and fancy.

But there I was, dressed in cheap clothes that looked like I was in rags. The guards greeted Antonia and Uncle Julio with respect, but when their eyes met mine, I shrank under their gaze. We stepped inside the huge house, and it was like entering another world.

Dark paintings hung on the walls, and the floors were so shiny that I could almost see my own reflection. The theme colors of the mansion were strange but beautiful – black, amethyst, and gold.

It was both enchanting and intimidating. We moved through grand hallways, and I couldn't help but admire the beauty around me. Finally, we reached the dining room.

A long table was set with fancy dishes, and at the head of it all was Dante, the man who ran this place. He looked just as powerful as people described him, and everyone said he was the big boss. Antonia and Uncle Julio greeted Dante with smiles, but I just stood there, like a little mouse in a lion's den.

Uncle Julio had been to this grand house before, talking about Antonia's marriage. Antonia and Dante were to get married. But every time he came back, he seemed more like a mere slave, bound by invisible chains.

As we entered the dining room, Uncle Julio started with his usual cheap talk, trying to make Dante laugh. "Ah, Dante, my friend! You know, they say laughter is the key to a long life. So, let's share a joke or two, shall we?" He chuckled nervously, but Dante's face stayed as serious as ever. Dante glanced at me, and I felt his eyes lingering, but I avoided his gaze.

Antonia, on the other hand, started engaging in strange talk with Dante. "Oh, Dante, I have always imagined myself as the next mafia princess. I have these fantasies," she said, trying to sound seductive.

Dante just looked at her, unmoved. "You know, being your princess, having kids, and ruling this place together," she continued, but Dante's expression didn't change. Uncle Julio shifted uncomfortably, and I couldn't help but think this was not going the way they expected.

The servants came in, bringing with them the aroma of fancy dishes. As they set the food before us, I tried not to let my hunger show. Antonia coughed, catching my attention. She looked at me, a silent reminder that we weren't supposed to be dining at the same table. I apologized, quickly picking up my plate to move. But before I could take a step, Dante's voice cut through the air like a command.

"Sit down." His tone was so forceful that I didn't even bother to argue. I lowered myself back into the chair, avoiding eye contact with anyone in the room.

After the last bite, Julio leaned towards Dante, a hint of nervousness in his eyes. "Dante, my good friend, perhaps now is the time to make the final decision. Antonia is ready to become the perfect Mafia princess. You won't find a more suitable match for you, I assure you."

Dante, his expression unreadable, raised a hand, silencing Julio. "Stop." The single word hung heavy in the air, cutting off any further attempts for him to speak.

Then, with calm certainty, Dante announced, "I've made my decision. I will marry Elena." Uncle Julio laughed nervously, thinking there had been a mistake. "Ah, Dante, forgive me, but you might be confused. Her name is Antonia, not Elena." Dante looked at him, unflinching. "I know. My decision stands. I will marry Elena." Uncle Julio, desperate to clear the misunderstanding, pointed at Antonia.

"Look at her! This is Antonia, she's the picture of beauty, the ideal match for you." He praised Antonia's features: flowing golden hair, emerald eyes, a vision of elegance and grace. Then he turned his attention to me.

"And this one," he said, pointing at me, "Elena, with her dark, messy hair and odd-colored eyes. She's nothing compared to Antonia." I felt a pang in my chest at his words, but I kept my gaze fixed on the floor. This dinner had become a nightmare, and Dante's decision felt like a cruel twist of fate.

Shock pulsed through me as Dante declared his decision to marry me. I couldn't understand it; it felt like a twisted joke.

A low growl escaped Dante, and I sensed the anger building. In a voice laced with fury, he interrupted Uncle Julio. "I'm not stupid or blind. My choice is final. I will marry Elena, and she will be my Mafia princess. I won't marry Antonia." Antonia argued, her voice rising. "Dante, you can't be serious! I'm the one you should marry. I've been groomed for this, born for this!" Dante's anger escalated, and he slammed his hands on the table.

"Enough! I won't let you insult me any longer. It's either Elena marries me, or there will be no marriage at all. I won't be forced into a union I don't want." The room fell silent, tension thick in the air.

The decision hung, and the fate of all of us rested on the edge of Dante's command. Uncle Julio, attempting to bring up some control, stammered, "Dante, we'll go home and talk about all of this. We'll bring you our thoughts tomorrow." His voice trembled with uncertainty.

Dante, unmoved, called his guards. "Escort them out." The guards moved in silently, leading us away from the grand dining room. As we exited the mansion, uncertainty hung in the air. The grand gate closed behind us, leaving me with a sense of confusion.

As I stepped into the house, my heart pounded with a mix of fear and confusion. Antonia was In front of me glaring at me with angry eyes . Before I could react, Antonia's hands were on me, delivering stinging slaps that echoed in the quiet hallway.

Each blow was accompanied by venomous words, an outpouring of her anger. She choked me and raised me in the air , my feet dangling an inch from the floor. "You thought you were special, huh? Dante chose you over me! You are nothing, Elena, just a worthless burden!" Antonia's grip tightened around my throat, and I gasped for air.

I was powerless against her rage, my eyes pleading for mercy. I had learned not to fight back. Resistance only led to more pain, a lesson learned through a lifetime of abuse. My uncle watched, torn between loyalty to Antonia and a sense of guilt that was visible in his eyes. He finally intervened, "Antonia, stop! This won't solve anything.

There's no point in hurting her." But Antonia's fury was relentless. Our home had long been a place of mistreatment. The death of my parents when I was just five left me at the mercy of my uncle, his wife Silvia, and my cousin Antonia. Silvia, drawn by the commotion, descended the stairs with her staff.

Antonia explained the situation with harsh words and hurtful gestures. "Dante chose her! Can you believe it, Mum ? Elena is going to be a Mafia princess and not me!" Silvia turned to Uncle Julio for confirmation.

His reluctant nod gave her affirmation. Silvia's gaze turned ice-cold as she looked at me, a chilling mixture of disappointment and disgrace. Without saying a word, she walked away, leaving me to face Antonia's anger and harsh words while uncle just sat down looking depressed. Antonia continued to call me names and threaten me.

Antonia's threat hung heavy in the air as she stormed upstairs to her room. Likewise, I left the room making my way to the small, cramped space that passed as my room. It was nothing like the grandeur of the Mafia house. My room barely fits a dresser and a bed.

As I looked in the mirror, the marks of Antonia's hands stared back at me. Tears welled up, and I couldn't hold them back. Sitting on the floor, I let the sobs escape, the pain and what happened earlier was really overwhelming. Suddenly, I heard footsteps.

Panicking, I wiped my tears and grabbed a book, pretending to read. Aunt Silvia walked in, her expression cold. "Do I have to remind you that you have chores to do?" I stammered an apology, but she cut me off. "No time for slacking you lazy ass. Get to work now," she demanded, I could see the hatred she had for me reflecting in her eyes.

Quickly nodding, I got up, heading to the kitchen to drown my sorrow in my slave like tasks, hopefully I would have a momentary escape from the harsh reality that was my life. In the kitchen, I wasn't at ease. I knew something was waiting for me, because there's no way aunt Silvia would be relaxed after hearing what happened.

As I started preparing lunch. In the middle of the process, a glass plate slipped from my hands, crashing to the floor. Panic gripped me immediately, I knew Aunt Silvia wouldn't take this lightly. Bending down to pick up the broken pieces, I felt a sharp pain as a glass cut into my hand. I glanced up, and there she was – Aunt Silvia, watching me.

Terrified, my hands trembled as I stammered an apology, desperately explaining that it was an accident. To my surprise, Aunt Silvia didn't unleash her usual temper. Instead, she extended her hand to help me up. Confusion clouded my thoughts ,this wasn't how I expected her to react. "Come with me, my child," she said, leading me to the basement. As we descended the stairs, my eyes widened in disbelief. In the dimly lit room, there was a fire place and a stool with chains lay on the floor.

Fear clenched my heart as I realized that the punishment for what happened and the accident in the kitchen might be more painful and cruel than I could have ever imagined.

Aunt Silvia instructed me to sit on the stool, and with a cold efficiency, she chained my hands, locking them securely. She paced around, silently observing me . Her eyes scanning every inch of me. Suddenly, she stood before me, delivering a powerful slap that echoed through the room. The pain seared through my face. She continued her slow pacing, and another slap followed. Tears streamed down my face as her harsh words pierced the air. "I've always tolerated you, been kind to you. These punishments are because I love you, it's allfor your own good," she claimed, her voice filled with twisted sincerity.

"And what do you do in return? Steal my daughter's future husband." Through my tears, I tried to respond, but she cut me off. "Living with us isn't enough for you to appreciate." She walked behind me, unzipping my dress. My back had a haunting display of different scars and bruises, souvenirs from her so-called punishments.

Aunt Silvia, gripping my shoulders, demanded answers. "What charms or witchcraft did you use to charm the Mafia prince?" She accused me. I didn't answer her because it was pointless arguing, the more I would attempt to respond the painful my punishment would become. Aunt Silvia kept asking what magic I used. In a small, shaky voice, I said I didn't use any. She laughed and patted my head.

Then, she went to the fireplace, took out a hot metal rod, and walked back. She said if I wouldn't tell her willingly, she'd force answers out of me. She put the hot rod on my back, and you could hear the sizzle as it touched my skin. I screamed in pain and cried. But Aunt Silvia kept pressing the hot rod on my back, smiling like she was enjoying it.

It was a nightmare, and I felt trapped and hurt. Even after Aunt Silvia took the hot rod off my back, the burning sensation still intensified . I knew that the pain wouldn't fade easily. I could still feel the pain even though the metal wasn't touching me anymore.

Tears streamed down my face as the agony continued. "You still won't talk?" Aunt Silvia demanded, frustration written on her face. Through tears, I managed to speak, "I swear upon my dead parents, I didn't do anything. I never liked the Mafia prince, never dreamed of becoming a Mafia princess." The words came out in a desperate plea for mercy.

Frustration grew on Aunt Silvia's face, and she walked up to me, warning, "find a way to fix this or else I will kill you." She unlocked the chains with a set of keys. As a final act of cruelty, she delivered a blow to my face near my eye. I fell back, landing on my already painful back, the impact causing even more pain. I was left with a swollen eye as Aunt Silvia coldly commanded, "Get back to work." With that, she walked out of the basement, leaving me battered and broken, the pain echoing in my every breath.

As the day wore on, I finished my chores, feeling exhausted and still in pain.

Heading to my room, I undressed, and the sting on my back intensified, a constant reminder of the torment.

A light knock on my window interrupted the stillness. Walking over, I found Isaac, my lover, standing there. Seeing him, tears streamed down my face.

He held my hands, concerned, and asked why I was crying and why I had a black eye. Turning around, I revealed the huge blister on my back. "Who did this to you?" he asked, anger flickering in his eyes.

"Let's go somewhere private," I suggested. Without hesitation, I jumped out of the window, and together we escaped into the dark night, seeking some peace and quietness away from the pain that had become an unwelcome companion in my life.

We went to our usual meeting place, it was secluded away from the houses and surrounded by trees and near a little river, we sat down together. Isaac looked at my back, concern etched on his face.

He asked what happened, and I explained everything, including Dante's proposal. He remained quiet for a while, processing the harsh reality of my life. Finally, he spoke, suggesting that I should delay Dante's proposal. With determination in his eyes, " in the next two days, I will be able to have enough money.

We can run away together... far far away and begin a new life," he said looking me straight in the eye. "I promise you," he said, his words carrying a sense of hope and a plan for a future beyond the pain and suffering we had endured. In that moment, the place became our heaven, a small sanctuary where we would escape reality and dream of a life free from the chains that bound us.

In the quietness of the night and reflection of the stars on the small river, Isaac and I shared a tender kiss. I rested my head on his chest, finding peace and comfort in his presence. Together, we began to talk about our dreams of the life we would lead once we escaped the shadows of our past. We talked about children, imagining their laughter filling our home. We discussed how many times we would make love, the intimacy becoming a promise of shared warmth and affection.

Our fantasies extended to various activities and places we would explore together. As time slipped away, Isaac escorted me back home. I entered through the window, and we shared on last passionate kiss, saying goodbye with a silent promise that in two days, we would break free from the hell we lived in , embarking on a journey to create a life where pain and suffering were replaced by love and freedom.

The morning after our secret meeting with Isaac, I woke up very late, exhausted from the sleepless night filled with pain. I took a quick shower, dressed in a large dress meant for a plus-size woman to avoid touching my wound, and tied an apron around me. I looked more like a maid than ever before.

The purple hue around my swollen eye was a painful reminder of the previous day's brutality. I immersed myself in chores juggling them all for me to finish on time before everyone could wake up.

Cleaning the entire house while preparing breakfast wasn't easy in a short space of time. Lost in my tasks, I didn't hear the knock on the door, followed by Uncle Julio's angry outbursts. Suddenly, the cursing ceased, replaced by a nervous laughter that caught my attention. Balancing a tray, I headed toward the dining room, only to freeze at the sight that made Uncle Julio pause – Dante standing with his guards. He was dressed in a sleek black suit, his black hair neatly slicked back, and a newly trimmed beard enhancing his attractiveness. Uncle Julio called for Antonia and aunt Silvia, both seemingly roused from a deep sleep by Dante's unexpected arrival. The atmosphere shifted, and I felt a mix of anxiety and dread as I wondered what Dante came to do , could he have finally come to his senses and decided to marry Antonia? Aunt Silvia and Antonia entered the living room, elegantly dressed and coated themselves in luxurious perfumes and both had big smiles on their faces .

The speed at which they had dressed up confused me, but my confusion turned to fear when Aunt Silvia's smile faded upon noticing that I hadn't yet cleaned the living room. Rushing to the dining room with the tray, I intended to return to the kitchen, but Aunt Silvia stopped me.

"Elena, why isn't the living room cleaned?" she asked in a calm, cold voice. I stared at the ground, stammering as I explained that I woke up late and was almost done with the house, having already prepared breakfast. Before I could finish, Aunt Silvia interrupted, instructing me to get the broom and finish cleaning. I hurried to the kitchen, bringing a broom, mop, and other cleaning equipment. I felt the weight of Dante's presence as Aunt Silvia directed him to go upstairs and sit in the living room. However, Dante didn't respond as expected. Instead, he walked towards me, grabbed the mop, and split it in half with his bare hands. The display frightened me, and I trembled under his gaze. He looked at me and asked " my princess, what happened to your eye."

Did he just call me princess ? Stammering, I attempted to explain, but Aunt Silvia cut in, claiming that I fell and hit myself on the edge of the dresser. Dante didn't take his gaze off of me and declared, "I'm here to pick up my bride, Elena," causing Aunt Silvia to fake a smile, expressing annoyance.

She attempted to redirect Dante's attention, insisting there must be a mistake and that Antonia was the intended bride. Aunt Silvia continued, "Elena, my niece," she paused, giving me a disgusted look, "isn't fit for you. She's a mess, can't even do her chores on time. But Antonia... Antonia is exceptional." Praises for Antonia filled the room.

Dante, however, continued to look at me and announced, "I hope you've packed your clothes because we are leaving now, and our wedding is tomorrow." My eyes widened, and I stammered, "Mr. Dante, I'm sorry, but I can't marry you. Ms. Antonia is the one for you, and I already have a lover. We'll soon get engaged." Dante held my chin and raised my head to make me look into his eyes "I'm giving you five minutes to pack all your belongings." He snapped his fingers at one of the guards gesturing him to escort me.the guard escorted me upstairs, and I packed a small bag.

Returning downstairs, Dante noticed my minimal belongings and questioned, "Didn't I ask you to pack your clothes?" I raised the bag, explaining that I had packed them. Confused, he asked about the rest of my things. I replied telling him everything was in the bag. He more baffled than before and he insisted I leave them, promising to get me new ones. Opening the bag, I pulled out a necklace and a scarf. Dante exploded, demanding I leave them behind. I insisted , " I can't leave these things, they belonged to my late mother."

He signaled a guard, who brought a briefcase containing a staggering sum of 10 million dollars. Uncle and Aunt Silvia, jaws dropped, stared in shock at the unexpected wealth before them. Dante looked at them and calmly said l, "Here's the bridal price. You asked for thousands, and I have given you millions." He opened the briefcase, revealing a substantial sum of money, and continued, "At the bottom are wedding invitations for tomorrow." Suddenly, Aunt Silvia's tone and attitude underwent a startling change. She smiled, a smile I had never seen before, and said, "Of course, we will be happy to attend the wedding." Antonia's eyes widened in shock, and she exclaimed, "Mother, you can't let this happen!" However, Silvia calmly responded, "Don't worry. If it wasn't meant to be, it wasn't meant to be. Be happy for your sister."

Antonia and I were both left in disbelief, processing the unexpected turn of events that had just unfolded before us. Aunt Silvia, with fake crocodile tears, approached me, expressing pride and happiness.

"I knew you would make me proud one day. I'm so happy for you. Bless both of you, and I wish you a happy marriage." She hugged me tightly, pressing on the wounds on my back. In a whisper, she uttered a chilling warning, "You will regret this."

Aunt Silvia released me, wiping away her crocodile tears, and bid me a tearful farewell. As we headed to the two black Porsche cars waiting outside, I caught sight of Isaac watching from a distance. Holding back tears, I knew the moment marked the painful separation from my lover. The promises we vowed and hopes and dreams we had echoed through my head. Was this the end of our love story and a beginning of a forced marriage?