Contracted to the Mafia Don

Eliza's POV

I couldn't breathe... The letters lay in front of me, their harsh words etched into the paper as if mocking my every breath. My hands trembled as I gripped the edges, unwilling to accept the truth. My father's reckless behavior had finally caught up to us. But this- this was more than I ever expected.

Damien Viera.

The name burned in my mind. The whispers I had heard about him over the years-the ruthless mafia boss who ruled the city like a tyrant-sounded like bad rumors at first. But these letters... they weren't rumors. They were a cold, unforgiving reality.

A million dollars. My father owed him a million dollars, and from the looks of these letters, there was no way to escape. My father had always promised me things would get better, that he'd stop gambling, that he'd turn things around. But those promises were as empty as his drunken rants.

I set the letters down slowly, the weight of them pressing down on my chest. I closed my eyes, trying to calm the storm inside me, but the anxiety was too overwhelming. How could I fix this? How could I make this go away?

The front door creaked open, and I didn't need to look up to know it was him. I could hear the unsteady footsteps, the smell of alcohol that clung to him like a second skin. My father.

"Eliza!" His voice echoed in the small apartment, frantic. "Eliza, you need to listen to me!"

I stood up slowly, the floor feeling like it was swaying beneath me. I didn't want to hear it. I didn't want to know. But I knew it was inevitable.

I turned to face him. His face was pale, sweat dripping down his forehead. His eyes were wide, bloodshot, filled with something far worse than the usual drunken haze-fear.

"What's going on, Dad?" I asked, though my heart already knew.

He took a shaky breath. "I've... I've done something bad, Eliza. Worse than before."

His hands shook as he fumbled with his words, barely managing to meet my gaze. "There's a man... a man I owe. A lot of money. A million dollars."

The world around me spun, and I grabbed the edge of the counter to steady myself. "A million?" I whispered, barely able to get the words out.

My mind raced, my chest tightening as the reality of the situation settled in. "Who? Who do you owe a million dollars to?"

"Damien Viera," he muttered, his voice barely audible.

The name hit me like a slap to the face. It was the last name I ever expected to hear. The very mention of it sent a chill down my spine. Damien Viera-the man who ran this city with an iron fist, whose name was whispered in fear by everyone from businessmen to criminals. The rumors of his brutality were endless.

"Damien Viera..." I whispered, the name tasting like poison on my tongue. "Dad... what did you do?"

He stepped forward, his face contorted with panic. "I thought I could win it back. I thought the gambling-if I just gambled one last time, I could win it back, but I lost it all. Now they're coming for you, Eliza. They want you."

The words didn't make sense, but the terror in his voice-his desperation-was enough to make my stomach twist.

Before I could react, I heard the sharp knock of a door slamming open, followed by heavy footsteps. Two men walked into the room, tall, imposing figures with cold eyes that sent a shiver down my spine. Their eyes locked onto me, and my blood ran cold.

"Eliza Carter?" one of the men asked. His voice was flat, devoid of any emotion.

I stood frozen, unable to respond. My heart thudded in my chest, my mind a whirlwind of confusion and fear.

"Who are you?" I finally managed, my voice shaky.

"We work for him," the second man said, his tone like gravel. "The boss wants to see you."

My father grabbed my arm, his grip tight, almost painful. "You have to go, Eliza. You don't understand. If you don't go with them, they'll-"

"Take me where?" I demanded, my voice rising in panic.

The first man stepped forward, his hand clamping onto my arm. "You don't have a choice. Get in the car."

"NO!" I yelled, trying to pull away, but the second man's grip was unyielding. Fear surged through me, drowning out all rational thought. "No, I'm not going anywhere with you!"

"Eliza, please," my father begged, tears welling in his eyes. "You have to. Please."

I shook my head, backing away, but the men's grip tightened. There was no escape. My father's pleading voice was nothing more than a distant echo as they pulled me toward the door.

The car ride was a blur. My thoughts raced, my pulse pounding in my ears. The cold air from the open window did nothing to cool my burning skin. We drove for what felt like an eternity, the streets passing by in a blur of darkness and unfamiliarity.

Finally, we arrived at a tall, dark building that loomed in the night. My stomach churned as the reality of the situation hit me. This was it. This was where I would meet the man who held my father's fate in his hands-and mine.

The men didn't speak as they led me inside, their grip never loosening. I was ushered into a cold, lavish office, and then I saw him.

Damien Viera.

He was just as the rumors said-tall, with dark hair and an intimidating presence that made the room feel smaller. His gaze was sharp, calculating, and his very presence seemed to command authority.

"Eliza Carter," his voice was smooth, deep, and terrifyingly calm. "I've been waiting for you."

I couldn't speak. I couldn't even move. His eyes locked onto mine, and I felt the weight of his stare like a physical force. Every instinct in my body screamed for me to run, to escape, but my legs were frozen.

"Sit down." His voice was like velvet, smooth but carrying a dangerous edge.

I obeyed without thinking, sitting in the chair across from his desk, trying to steady my breath. My heart was racing, my chest tight with fear. This was the man who controlled everything. And now, my life-my very existence-was in his hands.

Damien leaned forward slightly, his gaze never leaving mine. "I'm sure you're wondering why you're here, Eliza."

I swallowed hard, words catching in my throat. "I-I don't understand. Why me? Why take me?"

"You're here because of your father's debt," Damien said, his eyes never wavering. "But I'm a reasonable man. I offer you two choices."

I waited, my heart pounding, my breath shallow. I had to know what he wanted. What my choices were.

"You can marry me, Eliza," he continued, "and I'll clear your father's debt. Or..." He paused, his smile cold and dark. "You can die, and I'll take what's mine from your corpse."

I couldn't move. My stomach turned, and the room seemed to spin. This wasn't a choice. I couldn't marry him. But what other option did I have? My life- or my death.

---

Damien's POV

I watched her carefully, my eyes never leaving Eliza's face. Her fear was palpable, but there was something else beneath it. A fire. A resistance. It intrigued me.

She didn't flinch when I spoke, and that was unusual. Most people trembled at the sound of my voice, especially when I made my terms clear. But not her. She sat there, unmoving, her gaze sharp despite the obvious terror in her eyes.

I leaned forward slightly, watching her reactions carefully. "I'm sure you've heard of me, Eliza. I don't think I need to elaborate on the consequences of not following my terms."

Her eyes flickered, but she didn't speak. Good. Silence was power. It made her think.

"You have two choices," I repeated, watching the tension build in her shoulders. "Marry me, clear your father's debt, and live. Or you can die, and I'll collect what's mine from your lifeless body."

Her chest rose and fell rapidly with every breath. I could see the storm of thoughts behind her eyes. She wasn't foolish enough to refuse, not when death loomed over her.

But I wasn't interested in forcing her. Not yet. The idea of having her at my side-under my control-was something I was willing to wait for. The choice was hers... For now.

I could almost hear the thoughts turning over in her head, weighing the options. The clock was ticking, and I was waiting for her to decide.

Eliza's POV

Damien Viera's eyes never left me, as though he were trying to see straight through my soul. I felt exposed and vulnerable. Every breath I took felt louder than the last, as if my lungs were fighting against the inevitable weight of his words.

I couldn't escape it, no matter how much I wanted to. The thoughts raced through my mind, colliding with my emotions in a chaotic whirlwind.

Marry him.

The thought alone made my stomach churn. He was a mafia boss-a dangerous man whose reputation alone sent chills down my spine. He controlled this city with an iron fist, and I had seen enough stories of people who crossed him, people who disappeared without a trace. People who were never seen again.

But then there was the other option... Death.

I tried to steady my breathing, my heart hammering in my chest. I couldn't die. I couldn't let it end like this. My father, though a mess of broken promises and drunken rants, was still my father. I couldn't let him face the wrath of Damien Viera because of his own mistakes.

"I..." My voice trembled, betraying my calm exterior. "I don't have a choice, do I?"

Damien leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled together, eyes still locked onto mine. He had that smug, unbothered look on his face, as if this was all part of a game to him.

"You always have a choice, Eliza," he replied, his voice smooth, like he was offering me a luxury. "But some choices come with consequences. The question is, how much are you willing to sacrifice to stay alive?"

My thoughts swirled, but the truth was undeniable. If I refused, my life-my father's life-would be forfeit. Damien Viera didn't give second chances. He didn't spare anyone. He didn't care about the broken promises of a drunk man. He would come for us both.

Tears stung my eyes, but I fought them back. I couldn't let him see me weak. I couldn't let him win that easily.

"I will marry you," I said, my voice steadier than I felt. "But not because I want to. Not because I choose you. I'm doing this to save my father."

Damien's lips curled into a faint smile. It wasn't kind. It wasn't comforting. It was a smile of power, of victory. As if he had already won.

"Good choice," he said, his voice low. "You'll learn to live with it, Eliza. In time, you'll come to understand that everything I do is for your own good."

My chest tightened at his words. I wanted to lash out, to tell him exactly what I thought of his 'good intentions,' but something in his gaze kept me still. He was dangerous. The moment I allowed myself to show weakness, I knew he would pounce.

I looked down at my hands, which had begun to tremble. The reality of the situation was setting in, and with it came a wave of nausea.

Damien stood from his chair, walking around the desk toward me. My pulse quickened, but I refused to shrink back. His steps were silent, purposeful. He paused in front of me, his gaze still unwavering.

"You're not just saving your father, Eliza," he said, his voice almost a whisper now, sending a shiver down my spine. "You're becoming mine. Your life is no longer your own."

His words hit me like a blow, and I swallowed hard, forcing myself to maintain eye contact with him. I couldn't let him see how much his words unsettled me.

"I don't belong to you," I said, the words slipping out before I could stop them.

Damien's lips twitched upward, almost like he found my defiance amusing. But the smile didn't reach his eyes. Those dark, cold eyes that felt like they were reading me, dissecting me with every passing second.

"You will, eventually," he replied, his voice chilling. "You'll understand that I always get what I want, Eliza."

A shudder ran through me, but I clenched my fists, determined not to show any more weakness. If I was going to marry this man, then I needed to survive. I needed to keep my wits sharp. The moment I let my guard down, I'd be swallowed whole by him and everything he represented.

"Let's go," Damien said, breaking the silence. "We have a lot to arrange."

I stood up, my legs feeling unsteady, but I forced myself to stand tall. I had made my choice, for better or worse. The consequences of that choice were beyond my understanding, but for now, survival was my priority.

Damien's POV

Her defiance was almost refreshing. Most people cowered the moment I spoke, but Eliza... she was different. I could see the fire in her eyes, the fight. She wasn't like the others. She wasn't afraid of me. At least, not in the same way.

I'd expected fear, desperation, maybe even tears. But she wasn't breaking.

That made her interesting.

I'd seen it all before-the terrified people who begged, pleaded for their lives, promising to do anything to save themselves. But Eliza... she wasn't begging. She wasn't offering to help or to negotiate. She just made her choice, coldly and practically, as if she were a soldier going to war.

Her words-that she didn't belong to me-were met with amusement, but the truth was, she was wrong. She would belong to me. She didn't have the luxury of choice anymore.

But I liked the fire in her. It would make things interesting.

I nodded, satisfied with her decision. "Good. The wedding will be arranged soon. We'll make it official. There's no going back now, Eliza."

She stood up, her movements a little stiff, her face pale. But the spark in her eyes hadn't dimmed. If anything, it had grown brighter.

I couldn't help but admire her strength. But I had no illusions about her. She would break, just like everyone else. Eventually.

I stepped toward her, close enough that I could feel the heat of her body, the tension in her posture. I could tell she was holding her breath, waiting for me to do something.

I lowered my voice, making sure she heard every word. "Don't get any ideas, Eliza. This isn't going to be easy for you. You're mine now. And whether you like it or not, you'll learn to live by my rules."

She looked up at me, her gaze unwavering, but I could see the wariness in her eyes. The fear that she was trying to hide.

Good. I wanted her afraid, even if it was just a little bit. Fear would keep her sharp. And I would need her sharp.

"I don't need you to like me," I said. "But you will respect me. And soon, you'll see why."

Her jaw tightened, and for a moment, I thought she might say something else, but she remained silent. Good. The silence between us was thick, full of tension, but I liked it that way.

I turned and walked toward the door, motioning for her to follow. There was no need to say anything more.

Her world had just shifted, and now she had no choice but to accept the life I was about to give her.

Eliza's POV

Damien didn't speak as we drove through the city streets, and I didn't have the courage to ask where we were going. I could feel his presence next to me- like a shadow that stretched across the entire car. His cold, dark energy seeped into my bones, making me shiver even though the air in the car was warm. The quiet was maddening, a constant reminder that I was no longer in control of my fate.

I had made my choice. I had decided to marry him to save my father's life, but the weight of that decision was crushing me. Every moment felt like an eternity, and I was slowly drowning in the consequences of that choice. There was no turning back now.

"Where are we going?" I finally managed to ask, my voice quiet and shaky.

Damien's gaze shifted to me for a brief second before he returned his focus to the road. "You'll see soon enough."

His words, delivered with such finality, made my stomach churn. There was something cold and calculating in the way he spoke, as though everything was a part of some grand design, and I was nothing more than a pawn in his game. He controlled everything. The power he exuded was suffocating, and I hated how easily I had already become a part of it.

We drove through the city for what felt like an eternity before we arrived at a mansion. The gates were tall, with black iron bars adorned with intricate designs, and the driveway stretched out in front of the imposing structure like a path to some dark destiny.

I couldn't breathe as the car stopped in front of the entrance. This was his world. The world I had just stepped into without any way of knowing what lay ahead.

The mansion was everything I had imagined it to be-opulent and intimidating, a symbol of wealth and power. I could see why Damien was feared. This was not a man who simply had money. He had power, and that power was absolute.

He stepped out of the car first, and I hesitated before following him. My legs felt weak, my mind clouded with uncertainty, but I couldn't stay in the car. Not when I had already made the choice.

The front door opened as we approached, revealing a woman in a black suit. She greeted Damien with a nod, her expression impassive.

"Is everything ready?" Damien asked, his voice smooth, his eyes never leaving mine as I stood by the car, unsure of what was coming next.

"Everything is prepared, sir," she replied, her voice clipped. "The arrangements have been made."

Damien nodded in approval and motioned for me to follow him. "Come inside."

The inside of the mansion was even more extravagant than I could have imagined-marble floors that gleamed under the soft lighting, chandeliers that hung like pieces of art, and walls adorned with expensive paintings. It was a house meant for someone who had no regard for the ordinary person's life. It was a world where power ruled, and I had just entered it.

I could feel my heart pounding in my chest as Damien led me through the corridors. His steps were calm and controlled, as if he were in his element. I, on the other hand, felt like an intruder in a world that wasn't mine. The air felt thick with expectations, and I knew that this was just the beginning.

Finally, Damien stopped in front of a door. He turned to me, his expression unreadable, but there was a flicker of something dangerous in his gaze.

"This will be your room for the time being," he said, pushing the door open. "Get comfortable. We have a lot to discuss."

I swallowed hard, my throat dry. The idea of being left alone in this place-the place where Damien controlled everything-was terrifying. But I had no choice. I stepped inside, my footsteps hesitant.

The room was lavish, as expected. A large four-poster bed stood in the center, with luxurious bedding that looked far too soft for someone like me. The walls were a deep shade of burgundy, and heavy curtains covered the windows. There was a large, ornate mirror on one wall, and a plush chair by the fireplace. Everything about the room screamed wealth, but it felt cold-unnerving.

"Take some time to settle in," Damien said, his voice once again devoid of emotion. "Dinner will be in an hour. I suggest you don't keep me waiting."

I nodded, but I didn't trust myself to speak. He had already said everything he needed to say, and anything I said would be pointless. I could already tell that this marriage-this arrangement- wouldn't be one of mutual respect or even understanding. It would be one of control, of power, and I had no choice but to play along.

Damien turned to leave, but before he did, he glanced back at me. "Oh, and Eliza?" he said, his voice darkening. "You're mine now. Don't forget that."

The door closed behind him, and I was left alone in the silence, the weight of his words pressing on me like a heavy cloak. My life was no longer my own. My choices no longer mattered. This was my reality now, and the fear that had started as a small ripple in my chest was now a storm, threatening to consume me whole.

I sank down onto the edge of the bed, my mind racing. How had I gotten here? How had I let it get this far? I had made a choice, but the consequences were already more than I could bear.

I stood up abruptly, the sudden movement sharp enough to jolt me from my spiraling thoughts. I had to pull myself together. For my father's sake, I had to keep it together. I had to survive this.

But could I? Could I survive Damien Viera? Could I survive being his wife? His possession?

My breath caught in my throat. There was no going back now. I had to find a way to survive. To navigate this new world where everything was a game, and I was just a piece on the board.

I glanced around the room, my eyes landing on the mirror. My reflection stared back at me-a woman who had made a choice. A woman who had given up everything in the name of survival.

But in this world, survival came at a price... And I was about to pay it.

Damien's POV

I watched from the doorway as Eliza entered her room, her movements stiff and cautious. She was trying to hide it, but I could see the fear in her eyes. It was the kind of fear that wasn't born from weakness, but from something far more dangerous-a realization. She was beginning to understand what she had gotten herself into.

I couldn't help but feel a small flicker of satisfaction at the sight of her discomfort. She was mine now, whether she liked it or not, and she would learn to accept it. But that didn't mean I wasn't going to enjoy watching her struggle. It was part of the game.

Her resistance was intriguing, though. Most women would have begged or cried by now, but Eliza wasn't like that. She had a fire in her. A fire that would either burn her or make her stronger.

I closed the door behind me, leaning against the frame for a moment as I thought about her. She had chosen this path, and now she would have to walk it. She thought she could survive me-she thought she could play the game without getting burned. But I wasn't the type of man who allowed people to think they had control.

Her choices would be limited. She would learn quickly that in this world, I held all the cards... And I always won.