Forced to Marry the Mafia Boss

"You useless girl!"

"Aunt, please. That hurts," I held onto her wrist, trying to pry her off me from pulling off my hair.

"You're going with the men coming later. Or I'll give them Clyde instead. Your brother's a boy. He's more useful. They'll train him to beat people, maybe even kill. He'll grow up to be a criminal, all thanks to you."

"No! Please don't do that. He's just a kid," I begged. "I promised my parents I'd take care of him. I swore I'd raise him right."

I couldn't just stay silent. I had to fight back. If I didn't, my parents might just rise from their graves to curse me. Or worse, haunt me for abandoning our youngest.

"She's still arguing?" a new voice cut in. My heart dropped. It was my uncle. Lazy, useless, and jobless. Yet they expected me and Clyde to work for them.

"Where's Clyde?" Aunt Wilma snapped.

I turned from one to the other, my chest tightening. "What do you mean, where is he?"

I struggled harder, ignoring the burning in my scalp just to break free. When I finally did, I gasped. Strands of my hair were left in her hand.

"Where's my brother?" I demanded, this time staring straight at my uncle.

He grinned.

"I knew you'd act like this. So I already hid him somewhere you'll never find. But if you finally say yes... I'll go get him back."

I wanted to rip that smug smile right off his face. I didn't know how Aunt Wilma ever fell for a bastard like him. He wasn't even attractive. And yet, she was obsessed with him.

Good thing they never had kids. Knowing how strong their genes are, that poor child would've looked exactly like him. I'd seen his nieces and nephews. They all looked like trolls with the same disgusting attitude.

"Tell me where he is. Don't drag Clyde into your disgusting plans. He's just a child. He doesn't deserve this," I pleaded.

"Wow, listen to her," Aunt Wilma muttered, then suddenly slapped me so hard my face turned sideways. My eyes stung with tears.

"You ungrateful little witch!" my uncle shouted as he rushed at me and grabbed my hair too.

"Stop!" I cried. His grip was ten times worse. His hand was heavy and rough. He yanked my head back, and I could feel my neck twist just to follow the pull. My scalp felt like it was tearing.

I grabbed his hand with both of mine, trying to pry his fingers out of my hair, but he wouldn't let go.

"You don't get to talk back to us. Got it?" my uncle snapped, then slapped me... again and again.

My face was numb now. I couldn't even tell how many times his heavy palm had landed. And when he finally let go of my hair, I collapsed, dizzy and shaking.

"Look at her," my aunt laughed, "After everything we've done for you two, this is how you repay us?"

Then came the threat again. The one that made my blood turn ice cold.

"Listen close, Nevaeh. If you won't agree to pay off what I owe, that's fine. But don't blame me when I hand your little brother over instead. You can keep working for us while he's off doing God knows what. But you? You're old enough now. Pretty enough. Smooth skin, innocent face. The kind of girl men will fight over in a pleasure house."

He grinned at me with something disgusting in his eyes. Like he was enjoying imagining it.

"That's enough, Peter. Boss Damian's gonna be here soon. I told you not to hit her in the face, remember? If she's all bruised up, she'll be worth less!"

"Idiot," he muttered when he plopped onto the old couch like he just finished a shift at a real job. "She knows she can't do anything, but she still runs her mouth. Good thing you told her early before she got any dumber."

My aunt sat beside him and started massaging his shoulders like he was some war hero instead of a monster.

If glares could kill, they'd both be dead already.

But he was right. I didn't have a choice. Never did.

"Fix your face. I'm not in the mood to guess what you're thinking. Save the drama for your new boss. Maybe you'll find what you're looking for over there," my aunt said coldly from behind me.

***

NOW HERE I WAS, inside a car with a man named Damian. He hadn't said a word to me the entire ride. Didn't even look my way.

He sat in front beside the driver, while I was in the back seat alone. Another black car was following us. I felt like a politician's daughter being transported somewhere... except I knew I was being sold.

Eventually, the car turned into a large compound surrounded by towering concrete walls. It looked like the kind of place that didn't want anyone to see what happened inside.

I glanced around and realized we were in a huge garage. Off to the right, I saw the edge of a mansion. Massive, luxurious. I could only see the top floor from here, but it was enough to tell it was huge. I wondered how many rooms I'd have to scrub clean if they made me work as a maid.

"Stop staring. Get out and follow me," Damian said sharply.

I jumped a little at the sound of his voice but nodded quickly, hurrying after him. The driver and the other men stayed behind in the car. I didn't ask why. I just kept walking.

"Please, I'm begging you. I won't do it again."

I froze.

The voice came from inside the garage. As we stepped farther in, I saw a man on his knees, blood pouring from his face and soaking his shirt. He was a mess, beaten half to death. In front of him stood a man in a dark suit, tall, broad shoulders, hands wrapped in a bloodied white cloth.

Around them stood four more men, watching silently.

"No one double-crosses me. You know why?" the man in the suit asked. His voice was smooth. Beautiful even. But terrifying.

"P-please... I have a family. A wife. Kids. They... they need me," the man on his knees begged.

The man just tilted his head slightly.

"Then it's their bad luck that you're their father."

Then he turned to the man on his right and nodded.

Three gunshots cracked through the air.

The kneeling man dropped like a ragdoll.

I gasped. My body jerked on instinct, like the bullets had hit me too.

My eyes flew to the man in the suit.

He was staring straight at me now, brow furrowed. Cold. Curious.

He started walking toward me.

My breath caught in my throat.

Was he going to kill me too?

I slowly opened my eyes, feeling like I'd just woken up from a heavy, drugged sleep. My body was sore, and my head spun a little as I looked around the room.

Wait. This isn't my room.

My brows furrowed. The sheets were soft. The lighting was dim but warm. It was... expensive. And I was lying in a bed. A real bed. Then it all came rushing back.

The shooting. The blood. That man!

"Where are those men?" I asked out loud, panicking. But no one answered. I was alone.

I sat up quickly, heart pounding. Was that real? Or did I just have the worst nightmare of my life?

But no. I remembered it too clearly. The man with the voice that was too smooth for someone so terrifying. The begging. The gunshots. The way he looked at me like I was already dead.

And then what happened?

My hand flew to my forehead. Oh my God! I passed out. I actually fainted the moment he walked toward me and asked Damian who I was.

How pathetic.

I pinched my arm hard, just to make sure. "Ow." Okay. Still alive. Still in one piece.

I had just sat up when the door creaked open. A woman stepped inside. She looked like she was in her thirties, expressionless, almost robotic.

"You're awake. Sir Lucan wants to see you."

That was it. No smile. No warmth. Just those cold, clipped words.

My stomach twisted. Was she like them too? Was she another killer? Probably. Her eyes looked empty. Dead. Like she'd seen things I couldn't even imagine.

I stood up quickly. I didn't want to give her a reason to get pissed off. What if she was like the rest of them? Trigger-happy and looking for someone to hurt?

We started walking. The silence between us made the air feel heavy.

As I followed her through the hallway, I couldn't help but look around. The place was massive. Luxurious. The kind of mansion you only see in movies or magazines. Everything looked expensive! The paintings, the chandeliers, the furniture. I'd never seen anything like it.

I must've looked like some girl dragged out of the mountains. But honestly, I didn't care. I'd been through hell the past few days. If staring at pretty furniture helped me forget what kind of people I was dealing with, I'd take it.

I didn't even realize we were in the dining room until we stopped walking.

And there he was.

The man from the garage.

The one who killed without blinking.

He was sitting at the head of the table, calm, quiet, but I felt the tension the moment I stepped into the room.

"Sit," the woman beside me said, pointing at the chair to his right.

I couldn't even look at him. I just kept my head down and sat slowly, barely breathing. I didn't want to make eye contact. I didn't want to do anything that might make him notice me more than he already had.

I sat there, unsure what was going to happen next. Why was I even here? Weren't they supposed to send me to clean bathrooms or wash blood-soaked clothes or something?

Wait. What was his name again?

She said it earlier. Sir Lucan. That's right.

A few minutes later, Damian walked in and sat on the man's left side.

I didn't understand why I was here with them. They weren't talking. No one was explaining anything. They just sat there like I was supposed to know what came next.

I swallowed hard.

Maybe this was the part where they decided if I was useful or disposable.

The two men started eating like it was just any normal day. I sat there frozen, unsure what I was supposed to do.

I glanced at the man with the voice too smooth for someone so terrifying. He didn't even look at me while he chewed, completely unbothered by my presence.

"You don't want to eat?" Damian asked, eyes on me, waiting.

"I... I do."

"Then what are you waiting for? I'm not putting food on your plate for you."

"I can do it." I moved quickly, grabbing food for myself, glancing at both men from time to time, especially the one on my left. I kept my head low though. I didn't want to accidentally meet his eyes.

After that, silence.

No one spoke. No one looked at me. It was just the three of us, eating at this ridiculously large table, like I belonged here. But I didn't. I was supposed to be a maid, right?

Why was I eating with them? Why wasn't I cleaning floors or washing blood off walls? And that room they kept me in earlier, it was huge. There's no way someone like me was supposed to sleep there. That wasn't for servants. That wasn't for girls like me.

I finished eating slowly. I didn't want to be the first to stand. I didn't know what would happen if I moved too fast. I didn't want to find out.

"Follow me," the man with the deep voice said.

I looked up at him.

He was staring right at me. Then he stood and walked away.

I didn't move. Was he talking to me?

Damian raised an eyebrow at me. "You better start walking unless..."

He didn't finish the sentence.

I stood up so fast I almost knocked over my chair, then quickly followed the man I still didn't know the name of.

He walked through the hallway without saying a word, then pushed a door open and left it like that. He didn't tell me to go in... but something told me I had to.

I paused at the entrance.

Should I shut the door? Leave it open? Maybe if I kept it open, I'd have a chance to run in case... in case he decided to kill me like he did that man earlier.

"Close the door."

I jumped.

His voice was calm but final, like there was no arguing with it. My hands were slick with sweat, but I did as he said. I closed the door, leaving it unlocked. Just in case.

"Come here."

I didn't want to. Every part of me screamed to stay where I was, but I forced my feet to move.

He sat in a massive chair like it was a throne, one leg crossed over the other, arms resting on the sides like he owned everything in the world.

I kept my head down, fingers twisting together. My heart thudded so hard I thought it might rip through my chest and run for its life.

"Look at me."

No.

Please no.

That was the one thing I'd been avoiding.

But he said it, and I had no choice.

Slowly, I lifted my head.

And I froze.

Now that I saw him clearly, I couldn't look away.

He was... beautiful. In the most dangerous way. Like a god carved from marble. Cold, expressionless eyes. A sharp nose with a small cut on the bridge that made him look even more brutal. And those lips... perfect, heart-shaped, pressed into a hard line.

He looked like he was born to destroy people.

I snapped out of it and shook my head. What the hell was I thinking?

Nevaeh, stop! This man is a killer. He shot someone in front of you. You could be next.

Then his lips twitched. Just slightly. And then he spoke.

"Take off your clothes."

My heart stopped.

What?

I stared at him, wide-eyed, unsure if I'd heard him right.

Did he just-?

"Huh?" I said, stunned. I was sure I looked like an idiot right then, but I couldn't help it. Maybe I heard him wrong. I had to have heard him wrong. "S-sorry, I think I misheard you," I said nervously. We were standing about three meters apart, so maybe that really was it.

"What did you hear?" he asked.

I hesitated. What if I was wrong? What if I misunderstood and he thought I was hitting on him?

"C-Can you repeat what you said?" I asked, voice trembling. I figured I'd rather ask than assume and make things worse.

"I said, take your clothes off." His voice was low, calm, but there was irritation in it.

"What?" I gasped, blinking fast. "Why?"

"Because I want to see your body."

Pervert!

A second ago, I thought he looked almost like a god. Now, all that charm had shattered. He was a nightmare in disguise.

"Sir, I... I didn't come here to be some kind of... exotic dancer," I mumbled, backing away a little.

"You're not," he said flatly. "You're here to be my plaything."

"B-but my aunt told me I was coming here to be a housemaid! She didn't say anything about... that." I couldn't even repeat the word he used.

He clenched his jaw. His lips pressed together hard. "So she told you that herself? That you'd work here as a maid? Those were her exact words?" he asked tightly.

I froze. I didn't know what to say. She hadn't explained much. All I knew was they needed money and I was sent here to pay off the debt. I agreed only to protect my little brother.

"I gave your uncle five million dollars," he said. "You and your brother were the payment. I want to make sure I'm getting my money's worth. So strip."

My stomach dropped. "My brother? What are you talking about? I came here so he wouldn't have to get involved."

He let out a bitter laugh. "Looks like you don't know everything. He's part of the deal too. Want me to bring him here? Want him to watch what happens to you?"

I couldn't breathe. I looked down, completely overwhelmed. What kind of nightmare was this? I thought I was saving my brother. I didn't know we were both sold.

"My patience is running out," he warned.

I looked up. Tears blurred my vision, but I refused to let them fall. I held them in. Barely.

"Or do you want me to undress you myself?" he asked, voice low and menacing.

I wrapped my arms around myself in panic. "No. Please, don't. I'll do it. Just... please. Don't bring my brother into this. I'll do whatever you say. Just don't let him see me like that."

"Then get on with it." His tone was ice.

The moment he said that, the tears slipped free. I never imagined my life would turn into this. I never thought the first man to see my body would be someone like him.

Slowly, I reached for the hem of my shirt. My hands were shaking. I couldn't even lift it properly. I didn't dare look up at him. I was too scared. Too ashamed.

"Look at me while you undress."

I froze. How was I supposed to do that? I couldn't even move properly. My body was stiff with fear. My head stayed down as I finally pulled the shirt over my head, trembling the whole time.

He didn't say anything after that. But suddenly, I heard a phone ring.

"Boss," Damian's voice came through from the speakerphone.

"Bring Clyde-" he started to say.

"Please!" I interrupted, looking up at him for the first time. "Please don't! I'll do it. I'll behave. I promise."

He didn't break eye contact. "You heard her," he said calmly.

"Okay, boss," Damian replied on the phone.

I let out a shaky breath, the smallest bit of relief washing over me.

"Now continue," he said, like it was just another order. Like he wasn't watching me fall apart right in front of him.

Just a few minutes ago, he looked like some god carved out of marble. Now he looked like the devil, sitting on his throne.

Like he told me to, I kept undressing, even though my hands were shaking and my eyes were locked with his. My shirt was already off, so I slowly peeled off my pants next.

I didn't know where I'd find the courage to take off my bra. Or my underwear. But I knew I had to. There was no way around it.

I took a deep breath, reached behind me, and unhooked my bra. The fabric was tight-it had been old and too small for a while now-so the moment I slipped it off, my chest bounced slightly.

And of course, that was when I thought about it. Why did God have to give me a generous chest and not a generous bank account? Maybe then I wouldn't be in this kind of situation.

I saw his jaw clench. Was he going to grab me?

I tried not to panic, but my fingers trembled when I hooked my thumbs into the waistband of my panties. I noticed him lean back slightly. I bit down hard, grinding my teeth. He noticed. I saw his eyes flicker. But he said nothing. He just waited.

So I did it. I took off the last piece of clothing.

His Adam's apple moved. I saw it, but I tried to ignore it. I stayed standing in front of him, completely exposed. His eyes never left mine.

Then, slowly, he sat up straighter. His legs were spread, planted wide in front of him.

"Come here."

His voice was calm. Cold. And I didn't dare test his patience. I moved forward, every step making my heart beat faster. The room was cold from the air conditioner, but the chill I felt had more to do with fear.

Now I was standing between his legs. Too close. Too vulnerable. He tilted his head up to look at me. I couldn't hold his gaze. I stared down at the floor instead.

"Turn around," he said.

I did. And then I felt it... a light touch. Just one finger. But it was enough to make every hair on my body stand up.

"Face me."

I turned back around slowly. Our eyes met again. He leaned back into the couch like he had all the time in the world.

Then someone knocked.

I flinched and looked at the door in panic. I snapped my eyes back to the man just as he stood up.

"Come in," he said, his voice low and unreadable.

I felt like the floor would swallow me. I didn't know where to hide. I hadn't even locked the door.

A man's voice came through.

"Boss, it's here. The rest is already in your room."

The door closed again. I didn't move. I couldn't.

He walked toward the door, locked it, and then came back.

"Pick up those rags you stripped off and throw them away. Put this on."

I froze. My face burned from shame, but I didn't dare argue. He turned away, heading to his office desk like nothing happened. He started writing something. Then he looked up at me again.

"Or do you prefer being naked when you're with me?"

My whole body jolted. I snapped out of it and grabbed the paper bag he'd left on the chair earlier. I got dressed in silence. The dress was modest, knee-length. It made me look younger. Like a college girl trying to look decent.

When I finished dressing, I stood frozen in the same spot.

His eyes didn't leave me.

"From now on, you'll do everything I tell you," he said.

I swallowed. "Yes, sir."

"If I say dance, you dance. If I say sing, you sing. If I say kiss me, you kiss me."

I hesitated, but forced myself to say it.

"Y-yes, sir."

"Whatever I say, you follow. Unless you want to find out what I'm like when I'm angry... Nevaeh."

He knew my name. And Clyde's.

But I didn't know who he was.

"Yes, sir." My voice sounded robotic. Empty.

I didn't know what was going to happen tonight. Or tomorrow. But I knew one thing for sure... at least for now, he hadn't laid a hand on me.

And that was the only comfort I had.