Claimed by his Ruthless Desire

Ava's POV

"Get them out. One at a time!!"

One of the men yelled as I sat squeezed between two trembling women. Our wrists are tied with cuffs, a rough sack over each of our heads.

I wanted this.

I chose it.

I let myself get taken by the feared Moretti gang. Let the fear, the panic. All of it became my mask. Because it was the only way to uncover the truth about the dead bodies pulling up for the last years in this city.

I could hear the ragged gasps and choked sobs beside me, the soft whimpers of women who never planned to be here begging for mercy.

But I had.

Ava no longer existed. Right now, I am Clara. A helpless girl from nowhere caught in the worst kind of nightmare I ever imagined. I played the part well. But inside, every part of me was calculating the next move I would make when I got there.

"This one's weak. Not worth much."

The man spoke again as the van screeched to a halt. His Rough hands immediately grabbed me, hauling me upright. I kept my head down as they led me into the mansion.

Even blindfolded, I could tell we were somewhere big. Expensive. My boots clicked softly on the tile as they dragged me down a hallway. We were pushed into a room and shoved to our knees.

The sack was yanked off my head. The bright Light immediately burned my eyes, and I blinked rapidly. Around me, the other women sat in a rough mine, all of us kneeling like cattle waiting to be auctioned.

My knees brushed against the wicked concrete floor as we were forced into a line. The blindfold had come off minutes ago, but the ropes on my wrists stayed tight. Every breath I took felt like a lie.

But I breathed anyway.. pretending to be shaken, terrified like I belonged among these women. Seven of us. All dressed in the same ragged slip dress. All shaking in this dark, cold and windowless room.

The Moretti Mansion wasn't what I had imagined it to be. No chandeliers or golf walls. Just Concrete, steel, and shadows. Cameras.

All blinking red in the corner.

They were watching our every move.

I lowered my eyes, forcing my fingers to twitch nervously, as if I was just another victim. A nobody. Clara... a girl caught up in a storm she couldn't fight.

A metal door creaked open, three men entering inside. Their heavy guns held tightly. Tattoos inked like stories on their necks and arms. One of them carried a tablet, scanning each one of us lazily.

"These new batches?" He asked.

"Yeah. Picked them up from the harbor this morning." One of the guards growled.

"Lovely. Let's see who the boss gets to keep this time around." The man with the tablet grinned, a smile curled up at the corner of his lips.

A girl beside me whimpered at hearing every word they said. Another threw up quietly into her lap, the acidic stench of this hell hole kept creeping into my nose.

What the hell have you just gotten yourself into Ava?

But there was already no turning back now. I kept my eyes low. Timid, trying to look suspicious even though my heart was pounding like a war drum.

"Get them up on their feet!" One barked.

They yanked us one by one. My shoulder was breaking at the force, but I didn't shake. Clara would've gasped for help. So I did.

"This one looks sick."

"Worthless." One murmured, eyeing the girl beside me.

"The boss wouldn't want that." He continued. Lining every one of us against the wall like dolls waiting to be picked... rather than discarded.

"Put her on the termination list. If the boss doesn't like the look of her..."

"She's done for," another finished, chuckling.

My throat tightened. Not at what he said, at the ease with which they said them. As if they were sorting livestock. Another girl broke down beside me.

"Pl.....please...I want to go home to my mother."

She pleaded.

"Cry again bitch!!"

A guard immediately sent a slap across her face to silence her. "Fucking cry again!" He sneered.

"And I'll give the boss a reason to choose quickly."

Tears ran down her cheeks, but she bit her lip, trying to silence the sobs streaming down her eyes uncontrollably.

I felt her pain.

But I couldn't be her.

I couldn't save her. At least not yet.

"The boss is coming!!"

One of the guards yelled. Straightening his shirt as he rang the buzzer. Everyone is freezing and Standing still in a place.

"Don't you dare speak unless you want to be on the floor bleeding to death." He warned.

The door opened.

And that's when I saw him.

Lucien Moretti.

The devil in human form.

He didn't walk in... he arrived. Like the air itself had shifted to make room for him. He was tall, sharp-featured, dressed in black from head to toe.

His coat swept behind him like a shadow trying to catch up. His eyes didn't just look.. they cut through any person he ever stared at.

My stomach twisted at the thought.

It wasn't fear. Not really.

It was knowing.

Knowing that this man could kill every one of us in this room and still sleep like a baby after as if nothing ever happened.

He scanned us all from head to toe, his eyes like cold fire. Stopping just briefly when he reached me. A flicker of something I couldn't seem to comprehend in his eyes.

Curiosity?

Suspicion or hunger?

I couldn't tell why his gaze lasted on me much longer than the others. I didn't blink, trying not to let him see the fear that was creeping into every part of my body.

He shifted his eyes, turning to his men.

"Sort them out. Let's decide which one of them to kill... and which ones to sell."

Lucien's POV

My eyes moved slowly across the line of girls standing before me. Dressed in rags, their wrists tied up. Most of these things wouldn't last a week.

Not with their weak spines and hollow eyes. I paced back and forth, my hands clasped behind my back. Each step I took was purposeful.

Every breath in this room belonged to me now.

"Move," I ordered.

One of the guards pushed the first girl forward. The weak thing stumbled, her knees hitting the floor with a dull slap. She looked up at me, shaking like a wet leaf in a storm.

I didn't care about asking what her name was. Her fate was about to be decided by me anyway. "She's fucking skinny."

I spoke flatly.

"Open your teeth," I commanded.

She opened her mouth. Nothing pleasant about her teeth. Yellowed. Chipped. Fucking useless.

"Sell her to the Balkan broker."

"She won't make much for us either way."

"Just sell her cheap. So that they would buy." I spoke, the girl pleading for mercy as one of my men dragged her out of the room.

It didn't matter to me anyways, I didn't become Lucien Freakin Moretti by listening to the plea of sobbing bitches.

The next girl followed. Then the next. The more I looked at all of them, the more bored I became. Then my eyes landed on her again.

The fifth girl.

Her head was bowed, but not like the others. It wasn't out of fear. It looked to me like a strategy. Her shoulders were still.

Waiting, calculating what she would do next.

Interesting.

"Look at me," I commanded.

She raised her head to face me. Her eyes were wide, dark, unblinking... locked with mine. No fear from her. Her goddamn lips are not even shaking.

Just quiet defiance.

I took a step forward closer to her, drawn into her despite trying to be myself. Something about her set my blood boiling.

"What's your name?" I asked.

She hesitated for a second before parting her lips to speak.

"Clara," she said.

Nothing about the name felt right on her. It all sounded fake. Her voice... steady. Clear. Controlled. I moved my head, studying every inch of her face.

Dirt plastered across her cheeks, but her features were the best among the others. Beautiful, even as much as I hated to admit. But it wasn't her beauty that made her dangerous.

It was the silent control behind her. She was playing a game. One that I didn't know the rules yet, but I was going to find out one way or the other.

"Keep her,". I said.

"Strip her. Search her and make sure that she's going to be worth every dime we would sell her for."

One of the guards moved behind the next girl. The smallest of the batch. Pale, weak, and even barely breathing. "She's sick boss," he grinned.

"Want me to make her death quick?" He asked. Raising his gun to kill her like it was nothing. A soft whimper escaped the girl's throat.

The last thing I needed right now was another fucking bitch sobbing in my ears for mercy. But before I could give the nod to go ahead, a voice cut through the room.

Clara.

She stepped forward.. not far, just enough to show that she wasn't afraid. "She's not useless," Clara said.

"You just don't see her value."

My men wouldn't even dare speak when I breathed, yet this fucking... this girl... this Clara was standing between me and my authority.

Every one of my men stared in disbelief. One of them stepped back. As if he couldn't bear to look at what I was about to do to this little thing that just challenged me.

"You're bold," I said.

Walking towards her. Close enough to smell the blood on her wrists from the ropes.

"Stupid rather, but bold."

"If trying to save someone's life is stupid. Then maybe you're used to being around too many liars."

Her words hit like a blade. But she wasn't worth talking to. "Kill her anyway. I snapped.

"Pl.....please spare me." The sick girl screamed.

"Kill her then," Clara spoke, her voice lower now, too quiet. "Then you'll prove that you're exactly what they say you are."

"A butcher with a crown made of bones."

She didn't flinch.

Not even once.

My hands itched to snap this little twig into two. To crush the rebellion in her mouth. But the heat in my chest wasn't just anger.

It was Something else.

Something I never wanted to name.

Did she want to play with fire?

Fine.

It would be my pleasure to see her gladly burn in it.

I took one step closer. Staring at her like a man who is looking into a mirror he hates... one that shows too much of him.

Every one of my men was silent. Waiting for me to make this girl regret ever standing up to Lucien Moretti.

"You think you're so brave, aren't you?" I said. "You think you're more special than the rest of them?" Leaning in, letting my voice wrap around her like a chain.

I watched the fear in her eyes... maybe not fear-calculation. That only made it worse for her. "You want to play the hero and protect her?" I asked.

"Then you have just struck a deal with the devil, Clara."

She didn't say a word, not when I spoke. But her eyes already told me she had made peace with whatever I was going to decide to be her fate.

"From now henceforth," I whispered into her ears, my voice ice-cold.

"You belong to only me."

"No one dares sell her."

"Not for trade."

"And not for death either."

Turning to warn all of my men.

"She's going to become my slave from now on," I spoke, turning to face Clara.

"I'll make sure you regret ever opening that pretty little mouth of yours against me bitch."

Ava's POV

The silence of the mansion at night was the worst. It stretches long and thin, like the breath you hold before the knife falls.

I sat on the edge of my bed, my back stiff, spine straight despite the weight pressing against it. Lucien's cold disdain still lingers in my mind like fingerprints on glass.

Every word he'd hurled at me that day echoed: worthless, nothing, a burden. He didn't scream. Lucien Moretti didn't need to. His anger was quiet, calculated violence, the kind that left bruises on your soul rather than your skin.

And yet, I was still here-playing her part, surviving. But tonight... something felt different. The door burst open, crashing against the wall like a warning shot. I shot to my feet.

Lucien stood in the frame, his face shadowed, but his fury was unmistakable. His jaw was clenched, hands balled into fists at his sides. Something inside him had snapped.

"Come." His voice was ice over the fire-measured but barely contained.

I didn't move.

"I said come."

I obeyed.

Lucien didn't grab me. He didn't need to. His presence alone pulled me like gravity, like a tide I couldn't fight. He walked ahead without looking back, knowing I would follow. I hated that he was right.

His bedroom was colder than mine, with all sharp corners and heavy shadows. The fire in the hearth was dying, and it cast flickering light across his face-angular, dark-eyed, beautiful in a way that shouldn't belong to a man so cruel.

He turned on me the moment the door shut.

"Do you know what it's like to be betrayed?" he asked, stepping closer. "To have everything you've built threatened because someone else couldn't do their job?"

I didn't answer. This wasn't about me.

He didn't stop. "I bleed for this empire. I built it with my bare hands. And yet, tonight, I sit across from vultures who smell weakness."

The fire reflected in his eyes. He was close now. Too close.

"And you..." he said slowly, "You're just here. Watching. Breathing. Existing like you belong."

He stepped even closer. I could feel the heat from his body, smell the scent of smoke and something darker-power, rage, desire, maybe.

"Why are you still here, Clara?"

Because I'm supposed to be watching you. Because I have to see this through. Because I have to stay.

But none of the words came out.

Instead, my mouth parted in silence, my breath catching as he lifted his hand-not to hit, but to cup my face. Rough palm against smooth skin. I should have flinched. I didn't. Not yet anyway.

"You don't speak. You don't fight. What are you waiting for?" he whispered.

"I don't know," I answered honestly.

Lucien's mouth was on mine a moment later-forceful, devouring. There was no tenderness, only fire. I should have shoved him away.

I didn't. Instead, my body betrayed me, heat flooding my chest, my spine melting against his dominance. My mission, my logic, my training-they screamed stop. But my hands gripped the front of his shirt.

He pulled away just enough to look into my eyes. His thumb brushed my lower lip.

"You're mine now," he said-not a question but a command, a declaration.

Lucien resumed his assault, crashing his lips on mine and tugging off my clothes with such violence he ripped them.

I gasped. This was his way of showing his anger, his fury that the meeting didn't go as he planned it to go. He was furious.

His hands grabbed my wrists as he flung me onto the bed. My face hit the soft fabric of the bedsheets as I began to cry silently.

But Lucien was having none of it. It didn't matter to him, whether I cried or I screamed. I wanted to scream, but my body was on edge, and it was betraying me.

Lucien towered over me, his hair ruffled, his eyes glazed with this sheen of raw hunger. He looked at me.

"You'll have to stay still for me, Clara." He said as he slowly took off his belt.

Time slowed down as he took his belt and tied it around my wrists and to the bed frame.

He climbed onto the bed slowly, his fingers grazing my jaw to my collarbone. I flinched and shut my eyes with such incredible force.

"Look at me while I defy you, Clara. You have no other choice." Lucien said, his lips forming into a sneer.

His lips came crashing into mine again as he bit my lower lips and my neck. His hands moved along the planes of her body as he took off her undergarments.

I shut my eyes once more. I just couldn't look at him. I just couldn't see him like the predator that he was.

He took off his pants, his underwear next.

The sounds haunted me. My brain fought to shut them off, but my body enjoyed it. I felt so disgusted. My stomach was in knots as he took me right there in the cold interiors of his room.

He kept on saying these words, "You are nothing, Clara. Absolutely nothing."

They echoed in my ears throughout the time he defiled me till the time I screamed at him, begging him to stop because I was in so much pain.

Blood was everywhere, but he didn't seem to care. The blood came from me. I came to a realization.

Lucien had raped me, was raping me. I didn't consent to this. But I had to do my part or risk being exposed. So I held it in, swallowed all the pain, and gritted my teeth, as Lucien stole my virginity from me.

He bit me everywhere because he wanted to mark his territory. He grabbed my breasts as he pounded me like I was the toy that he used for entertainment.

After some minutes, he finally stopped, falling onto me and breathing in bursts of air.

He slowly untied my wrists and started gathering his clothes. He turned to me, still on his bed with tears streaked all over my face and my eyes still firmly shut.

I could hear the sounds of him putting his clothes back on as he turned to face me. "Open your eyes, Clara." He said, his voice steely.

I collected my thoughts, my heart pounding. I was still naked, and so I pulled the sheets to my shoulders to cover my shoulders.

'Why are you covering yourself? He's already seen you naked.' I thought to myself.

I felt myself blush. Lucien had raped me, yes. But this was the most alive I've ever felt. My body ignited at his presence, his touch.

I couldn't ignore the fact that my body was attracted to him. My heart had enjoyed every second his hands touched me.

"Why aren't you speaking, Clara?" He said, looking at me again.

He liked saying my name, even if it technically wasn't my name.

Lucien was fully clothed now, and he climbed the bed once more, cornering me to the bedpost. He was staring at me intently, and so I blurted out my next words.

"I enjoyed that," I said. Stupid. Stupid.

But he didn't say anything for some time, then he said, "Lie down."

I did. He lay down next to me, not quite touching me with his upper body. I looked up at him to say more, but he was already fast asleep. His chest rises and falls gently.

I looked at this man with his icy exteriors tamed in his sleep. How could I have liked what just happened?

He was a monster in every sense of the word, and he was heartless and took advantage of the weak like he did me. But my heart was a traitor and I found myself wanting him even more