Sold to the mafia king

The dimly lit room smelled of expensive cigars, whiskey, and power. The air was thick with tension, the weight of my father's failure pressing heavily on my shoulders. I stood on the auction stage, my hands trembling as I hugged my arms around my body. The silk dress they had forced me into clung to my skin like a cage, its delicate fabric a cruel contrast to my reality.

A dozen men sat in the room, their dark eyes scrutinizing me like a piece of meat up for slaughter. Their whispers slithered through the air, assessing, calculating. I wanted to scream, to run, to disappear-but I was trapped. My father had gambled away everything, and in the end, the only thing he had left to offer was me.

"Twenty million," a voice called from the back.

My stomach twisted. The bidding had begun.

"Twenty-five," another man countered.

The numbers climbed, my heart pounding in my chest. My hands fisted at my sides as I fought to keep my face blank. Tears wouldn't help me now.

A man in the front row smirked, running his fingers along the rim of his whiskey glass before raising his paddle. "Thirty million."

A cold sweat broke out along my spine. Their voices rose and fell, the figures tossed around as if they weren't discussing a living, breathing person. I tried to focus on my breathing, but the walls felt like they were closing in on me.

And then, the room fell silent.

A slow, deliberate voice cut through the air like a blade slicing through flesh.

"Fifty million."

The room shifted. The tension thickened. The other men hesitated, exchanging wary glances. They knew better than to challenge him.

Derek Moretti.

I turned my head, my breath catching as I saw him for the first time.

He sat at the back, legs spread apart in a position of lazy dominance. A tall, broad-shouldered man with sharp, angular features and piercing, cold grey eyes. He exuded power-the kind that made grown men bow and enemies quiver. Dressed in a tailored black suit, he looked like the devil himself come to collect his due.

No one dared to bid against him.

The auctioneer, sensing the finality in Derek's tone, swallowed nervously before slamming the gavel down. "SOLD."

A hush settled over the room, the decision irrevocable.

And just like that, I belonged to the most dangerous man in the city.

They brought me to him after the auction, my legs barely holding me up. My father had disappeared, probably too ashamed to face me. Or too cowardly.

Derek leaned back in his chair, watching me with an expression of mild interest as if he had just purchased a car rather than a human being.

"You're trembling," he observed. His voice was deep, smooth, edged with something dark.

I forced myself to meet his gaze. "What did you expect? I was just sold like property."

His lips curved into a smirk. "That's exactly what you are."

A chill ran down my spine.

"Your father owed me money. He couldn't pay. Now, you're mine, Elena." He leaned forward, elbows resting on the desk. "You can either accept that or make things difficult for yourself. But let me be clear-you don't get to run from me."

I swallowed hard. "What are you going to do with me?"

His eyes darkened, something predatory flashing in their depths. "That depends on how well you behave."

I hated the way my body reacted to him. The way his presence filled the room was suffocating yet intoxicating.

He stood, walking around the desk until he was just inches from me. He was taller than I expected, his frame imposing. His fingers tilted my chin up, forcing me to look at him.

"You will obey me," he murmured. "You will not question me. And in time, you will learn that belonging to me is not a curse-it's a privilege."

I clenched my fists, my body stiff.

"I will never belong to you," I whispered.

His smirk widened, a promise of a battle neither of us would escape unscathed. "We'll see about that."

And just like that, my nightmare had begun.

The car ride to Derek's estate was silent. I sat stiffly in the backseat, my fingers clenched in my lap. Matteo-one of his men-kept a watchful eye on me as if I might throw myself out of the moving car.

Like that would do me any good.

The estate was outside the city, hidden behind towering iron gates and surrounded by acres of land. The driveway alone was long enough to make me feel trapped before I even stepped inside.

When the car stopped, Matteo opened the door for me. "Out."

I hesitated but complied. My legs felt weak as I stepped onto the gravel.

Derek was already waiting at the grand entrance, his expression unreadable. The golden glow from the mansion's lights cast long shadows over his face, making him look even more imposing.

"Welcome home, Elena," he said smoothly.

Home. The word twisted inside me. This wasn't home. This was a cage.

Inside, the mansion was breathtaking. Polished marble floors, grand chandeliers, and walls lined with expensive artwork. It screamed wealth and power. But beneath all of that was something colder. Something darker.

"This will be your room," Derek said, pushing open a door at the end of a long hallway.

The room was massive, too luxurious for someone like me. A king-sized bed, a sitting area, a vanity, and even a walk-in closet filled with clothes I hadn't chosen.

The illusion of comfort.

"You're free to move around," he said, leaning against the doorframe. "But don't mistake that for freedom."

I turned to face him. "And if I try to leave?"

His smirk was slow, predatory. "You won't."

My stomach clenched.

He pushed off the doorframe, walking toward me. I backed up instinctively until I hit the edge of the bed.

"You should rest," he said, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from my face. I flinched, but he didn't seem surprised. "Tomorrow, we talk about rules."

Rules. Of course.

He turned to leave, pausing at the door. "Oh, and Elena?"

I swallowed hard. "What?"

"Lock the door if it makes you feel safer."

And then he was gone.

I sank onto the bed, my hands trembling.

I was trapped in the lion's den. And the lion had no intention of letting me go.