Her Mafia Protector

"LYRAAAA!"

Meera's scream tore through the mansion, sharp enough to shatter glass. I flinched but didn't move, gripping the broom in my hands like a lifeline. Again.

Whatever petty complaint she had this time, I wasn't in the mood. Ever since my parents died and my Uncle took me in,I've been nothing but a slave in this house.

But the silence that followed was worse. No second shout. No stomping footsteps. Just... waiting.

Something was wrong.

I forced myself down the stairs, my pulse hammering in my throat. The dining room doors were wide open, and the moment I stepped inside, the air turned to ice.

Meera sat at the table, smirking. Uncle Zorah lounged beside her, his fingers steepled like a king on his throne. And across from them-

A man.

Strange. Old. Heavy-lidded eyes that crawled over me like damp fingers. A smile too wide, too knowing.

"Ah. Here she is."

Uncle Zorah slid a document across the table, the gold seal glinting under the chandelier.

"Sign". It wasn't a request . It was a command.

I stared at the paper,the seal blurring before my eyes. A contract. A marriage contract. My throat tightened.

Meera twirled a strand of her around her finger,her smirk widening. "Don't look so surprised .You really didn't think you'd live here for free forever or did you?"

"I don't ... I don't understand but to whom??" I stammered in confusion. This was all so sudden.

Then a voice shot from across the room, it was the stranger who I hadn't paid much attention to.

"Hello little bride".

I couldn't breathe. The words "little bride" hammered in my mind, each repetition striking my chest like a warning bell. Little bride. The man's voice dripped with mockery, his gaze a calculated caress that sent a shiver racing down my spine.

I gripped the broomstick tighter, the wood pressing into my palm as if it could ground me in this bizarre reality. But this was no reality; it was a twisted farce that had been forced upon me. Uncle Zorah's cold eyes fixed on me, his silent expectation weighing heavily in the air.

Meera's insufferable smirk didn't even try to conceal her delight. She thrived on my confusion and fear, reveling in the moment she had long anticipated-my submission.

"You didn't think you could escape this, did you?" Meera purred, her voice sweet but laced with venom. "Nothing's free, Lyra. Not even your life."

My heart raced, a surge of rage and defiance flooding my veins. This was the moment I had dreaded: the price for years of servitude. A contract. A marriage to a man whose face I hadn't genuinely bothered to learn until this moment. I dared to glance at the stranger again. He was old-far too old-his features sunken and pallid, resembling a corpse masquerading as a living man.

His smile widened as our eyes met, the look on his face predatory, ready to pounce. He embodied everything I despised about this house, about my life, and the chains that tightened around me with every passing day.

"Sign it," Uncle Zorah said again, his voice smooth, almost dismissive. "We're waiting, Lyra, hunny." But I wasn't going to back down. Not now. Not ever. I blinked, trying to clear the haze in my head.

"To whom?" I repeated, my voice trembling. "who is going to sign the contract? What do you even want from me?" The stranger leaned forward, his voice a low rasp that sent a prickle of dread crawling down my back.

"You, my dear, are the key to securing your uncle's... future." His smile twisted even further, and for a split second, I thought I might throw up. "I've been waiting for this moment for a very long time. And I'm not one for patience."

His words cut through me, sharp and final. The weight of the situation, the knowledge that I was being sold like cattle, hit me all at once, crashing through my fragile defences. The contract, the marriage, everything-it was all for a single purpose, and it wasn't love or family. It was power. It was control. "You think I'm going to sign that?" I spat, my voice cracking with defiance.

Meera raised an eyebrow, amused by my outburst. "What else can you do, Lyra? Do you think you have a choice in this? You've been nothing more than a servant in this house, and now you're going to be his. Just sign, and it's over."

The room felt suffocating, the walls closing in on me. My chest tightened, my pulse racing. I wanted to scream, to tear the paper apart, to burn it. But I couldn't move. Couldn't breathe.

All the rage, all the frustration of living in this gilded cage for so long, surged up in me. I wouldn't be their pawn. I wouldn't let them decide my fate. I shoved the broomstick away from me, my fists clenched tight enough to draw blood from my palms.

"No. I will not sign."

The room went still, a taut silence hanging between us. For a moment, it felt like time itself had frozen, and then the air was thick with tension. Meera's smirk faltered just a little, a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. But it wasn't enough. It wasn't enough to undo what had already been set in motion. The anger, the fire, it felt hollow. I wanted to fight, to destroy everything they stood for. But in the end, all I could feel was an overwhelming wave of helplessness, like being crushed under the weight of my defiance.

"I said no," I whispered, but the words came out weak, useless. Uncle Zorah's eyes darkened. The stranger leaned back in his chair, his smile never fading, just widening. I was trapped. And in that moment, the truth hit me harder than any slap. There was no escaping this. No way out. I was a prisoner to an old cargo, a damn old man.

"There should be a way out" I said urgently, darting my gaze from the old man to my silly head uncle.

"What's the out, lyra?"

And then, something snapped.

Lyra's POV

The tension in the room was palpable, thickening like a storm ready to unleash. The silence vibrated with the kind of fury that only people like Uncle Zorah and Meera could muster.

I crossed my arms, determined to maintain my composure, while inside, my thoughts churned with a mix of anger and confusion. I shifted my gaze between them, my voice dripping with pointed sarcasm.

"Well, I see the way out of this is to throw Meera under the bus instead of myself. I can't help but think the old man has his sights set on her, right?" For a brief moment, Uncle Zorah's eyes flickered with something that straddled amusement and anger before he let out a low, sinister chuckle. His fingers drummed on the table, the sound slicing through the charged silence.

Meera, predictably, didn't take it well. She hurled a pillow at me-aimed precisely at my head. I sidestepped smoothly, leaning against the doorframe as if I hadn't just faced the most brutal decision of my life moments earlier.

"Stupid girl!" Meera spat, her voice laced with venom as the pillow thudded harmlessly against the wall. Her eyes blazed, glaring at me like I was a pest she wanted to eradicate. I shrugged, a smirk playing on my lips.

"Oh, did I hurt your precious feelings? My bad, princess. I get that being perfect is a tough job, but try not to take your frustrations out on me, okay?"

Uncle Zorah's lips twisted into a thin smile, and I could almost hear the gears grinding in his mind. He was trying to keep control, to keep up his mask of power, but it was slipping-just slightly. He stood up slowly, smoothing down his suit as though he were in full control of the situation. His voice dropped, cold and deliberate. "You're testing my patience, Lyra. Don't forget who holds the cards here."

"Right, right," I muttered, rolling my eyes, ignoring the way my heartbeat quickened. "You're the one holding all the cards, and I'm just the poor little pawn caught in your little game." I let out a huff. "Honestly, Uncle, for someone so smart, you sure have a way of making everyone hate you."

The tension in the room was palpable now, like we were all sitting on the edge of a knife. The old man-whose name I still hadn't even bothered to learn-was watching this exchange with the kind of amusement you'd expect from someone who had already won.

He leaned back in his chair, looking far too comfortable for my taste. His predatory smile was still there, like it belonged on a rat. "You know," the old man finally rasped, his voice like nails on a chalkboard, "I do enjoy a good chase. But you, Lyra-you're making this more difficult than it needs to be."

I forced myself not to shudder. I was a prisoner in my own home, and somehow, that made it all the worse. They all seemed so used to this, like they were just waiting for me to crack under pressure. Well, not today.

"I don't care if you enjoy the chase. I'm not going anywhere," I snapped, lifting my chin in defiance. "You're not getting me without a fight."

Meera snorted from across the room, crossing her arms over her chest. "A fight? What fight, Lyra? You've been a slave in this house for years, and now you think you have the power to defy us?" I could feel my anger bubbling, but I wasn't about to let her get under my skin. Instead, I plastered on a grin that I hoped was just as sharp as my words. "I don't need power to defy you, Meera. I just need the will to not let you win."

"Enough!" Uncle Zorah barked, slamming his fist down onto the table. The noise reverberated through the room, shaking the walls and rattling the glassware. I flinched, but didn't back down. He was losing control. And I had to keep pushing. "You think you're funny?" he growled, his voice like thunder.

"You've been playing at defiance for far too long, Lyra. It's time to understand something-you don't have a choice in this. Sign the damn contract or we'll make you wish you had." His words were like cold steel, and I could feel the weight of them pressing down on me, suffocating me with their cruel finality.

I took a deep breath, gathering every ounce of strength I had. My heart was pounding in my chest, but I wasn't going to let him see it. Not now. "You'll make me wish, huh?" I raised an eyebrow, taking a step closer to the table, staring Uncle Zorah dead in the eye. "What's next, Uncle? You going to lock me in a room until I'm begging you to marry me off to this...creepy old man?"

Uncle Zorah's face twisted into something dark and dangerous. "You really want to test me, Lyra?" I felt a moment of pure adrenaline surge through me, but then the old man stood up, cutting off any possibility of further banter. His hand moved to the contract in front of me, sliding it over with a swift, deliberate motion.

"You have no more time to waste, little bride."

His voice was low, condescending. A shiver ran down my spine, but I refused to let him see the effect his words had on me.

I stared at the paper in front of me, feeling the cold weight of it as if it were a chain being wrapped around my neck. I wanted to throw it out the window, burn it, rip it apart-but I knew there was no point in that. My mind raced for an escape, but each path only led me back to this inevitable moment. This was happening, and I had to face it. The silence in the room became a weight pressing down on me.

My pulse thudded in my ears, and my throat tightened. For a long moment, it felt like I was drowning in it all. Then, with a forceful motion, Uncle Zorah's hand slammed down onto the contract, pushing it closer to me.

"Sign it, Lyra," he ordered, his voice leaving no room for dissent.

I fixed my gaze on the document, my eyes burning with frustration and defiance. I could feel the pressure building, but I wasn't going to be crushed by it. I grabbed the pen and with determination, I signed. My hand shook only slightly as the ink met the paper, but I didn't hesitate. I wouldn't be intimidated.

Uncle Zorah smirked, satisfaction radiating from him as he watched me. Meera let out a soft, cruel laugh, and the old man's smile grew wider.

"Good girl."

But in that moment, I had thought of a plan.

Lyra's POV

The plan was simple. The only way to avoid this forced marriage was to run away, run far away and never return. But I knew I couldn't do it alone. I needed help but who would be willing?

No one in this house would dare go against Uncle Zorah's orders.

Then it clicked. There was only one person I could trust with the escape plan....Tracy. If sending letters was a thing of the past, my best friend-Tracy-and I were starting to bring it back. For the last few days, Uncle Zorah had shut me from the outside world-not that I was given free will in the first place. He seized my phone, my only company, and locked me up in my room.

He was terrified I'd make an escape and ruin the marriage, but I wasn't just going to sit here and allow him send me off to some fucking old man with salt and peppered hair. I love Tracy with all my heart. She figured something was wrong when I obviously couldn't reply to her texts. She came knocking on my window days after and it became a habit to send letters down to communicate with her.

Laying down on my bed, I read the last letter I received from her, grinning from ear to ear when she finally agreed to help me with my escape. She had climbed up a tall ladder to reach my window earlier, how hard could it be to do the same? I sighed out loud, folded up the paper and tore it in pieces. Meera came in every now and then to hurl insults at me for no reason, but it was a habit to remain quiet now.

She could yell and rant for all I care, I was only concerned with escaping from here. Tracy had promised to secure a job for me to keep my life balanced, it was all I needed to survive out there.

Tonight would be the last chance I got to get the fuck away from this crappy town.

Far away from my uncle's clutches.

The soft sound of footsteps pulled me from my reverie. I turned my head slowly, meeting Meera's sharp gaze. She had her hands placed behind her back, striking my curiosity effortlessly. She approached me slowly and placed a brown tray on my bed,

"Eat up, father wants you healthy for your wedding."

I'm. Not. Getting. Married. To. That. Dumbass. I wanted to say, but I zipped up and glanced at the food. "I'm used to you starving me." I whispered coldly, pushing the tray aside, "I prefer starving to death."

Meera pulled out a silver dagger from her pocket, a wild grin on her face,

"Even though you're yet to get your wolf, a stab to your heart would end you immediately. Why don't you do it now? End your misery. My father wants you to live, but I want you completely gone, six feets under." Her eyes glowed with mischief and my mouth ran dry. To what extent was she willing to go to end my life?

She raised a brow, toying with the silver dagger, "You're not willing?"

"I'm not going to give you the satisfaction of watching me writhe in pain." I reached for the dagger and tossed it on my couch, "If you want to do it, then do it. I'm not stopping you."

"I'm not going to give you the satisfaction of watching me ruin my own life." Meera spat back before turning away. With her fingers around the doorknob, her voice shattered the silence once again, "You should have ended your life when you had the chance, you have a choice now."

"Then what? Leave my whole empire for you?" I chuckled, sitting upright, "are you afraid I would try to claim what's mine with Luciano's help?"

Meera slammed the door hard and stormed away, acting like the bitch she had always been. I patiently stared at the clock, Watching as minutes turned into hours with the sky turning darker. The stars shone brightly, the moon casting a warm glow on the whole building. I got off my bed, grabbed a black blazer, some black pants and a face cap. I strode towards my window, opened it up and patiently waited for a ladder and lean, tall blonde to pop up.

After a long while, I heard a slight knock, finding the brown ladder pressed against my wall. I leaned towards the window and smiled at the familiar figure staring back at me. Tracy. She waved her hands, but due to the distance, I felt like Rapunzel being saved from the high mighty tower. Tossing my bag over my shoulders, I clutched the ladder by the two sides and waved back at her.

Finally I was leaving this goddamn home.

If there was one thing I was thankful for, it was the fact that I had no phobias for extreme heights. As I climbed down the ladder, it felt like the wind was close to tossing me away like it does to the leaves on the trees, but I held onto my will to survive. My new life after leaving here.

Just a few more steps to reach the ground.

I kept muttering encouraging words, smiling from ear to ear as I increased my pace, but my legs trembled when a loud gunshot pierced the air. The ladder lost its balance almost immediately, and when I glanced below, I saw Tracy in a pool of her own blood, eyes wide with terror as her lips trembled with pain.

"Tr..Tracy!" I screamed, anticipating the rough impact of falling from such a high height, but I was caught by some strong arms, pressed hard against some hard, stiff chest. My heart slammed hard against my ribcage as realization dawned on me. I got caught. This was one of Uncle Zorah's guards, he had shot Tracy!

I struggled against him, trying hard to jump from his arms, but he held me in place, "Stay put and I might save your ass from Zorah."

"You killed my friend!" I whimpered, tears spilling down my cheeks. My heart twisted with so much pain, I found it hard to breathe,

"You shouldn't have killed her, she only tried to help me!" I yelled, slapping my hands against his chest. I struggled against him again, dragged his hair, bit his wrists and cried out,

"You...you-"

"Zorah knew you would escape, he gave instructions."

"Tracy was my friend."

"She tried to help you escape."

"You're going to rot in hell for this!"

"Oh, honey." The guard laughed, flipping me over his shoulders,

"You're the one who's going to hell for your crimes."