THE KILLER THAT CLAIMED (A dark, mafia romance)

I should have screamed the moment I realized what was happening.

I should have, but I didn't..... I couldn't. To be honest, there was very little that I could do in this moment.

My father's words still echoed in my mind, a mantra I hated:

"It's for the family. It's for your own good as well, Amaya"

I didn't believe him. I was being traded off like livestock and he had the nerve to claim it was for my own good?

How could any of this be for my own good?

How could a father do this to his only child?

The only daughter that his wife who he claimed he loved, left behind? Was I not meant to be protected by all means?

The black car hummed through the city, tires slicing against wet asphalt, the rain streaking the windows in jagged lines.

My fingers were pressed to my knees, digging into the fabric of my dress until the skin split. My heart pounded like it was trying to escape my chest.

I had been sold. Not betrothed, not promised, like a proper daughter.

No. I was sold. And the man.....the one who had bought me was waiting for me at the compound.

I doubt he even remembered my name.

"Amaya," my father had said as if saying my name was an attempt at gentleness, "you must obey your husband. You are stepping into a life bigger than yourself. Do well not to bring shame to me"

I bit back a sob.

I should not bring shame to him? What about me? Was this not shameful enough for me?

"You... sold me," I whispered.

His eyes didn't meet mine. He didn't even flinch.

"This is real life, You are no longer a child. But don't worry," he said. "You'll survive."

I didn't know what to say.

How would I possibly survive this?

The gates of the compound appeared in the distance, tall, iron, looming like the entrance to a prison.

Guards flanked it, black-suited and silent.

I was led inside without ceremony after my father had

left me and was driven back to what used to be my home.

My heels click clacked against the marble floor and yet every step felt like I was sinking into quick sand and would soon drown.

That was when I saw him, I froze.

He was standing at the center of the grand hall, tall, broad-shouldered, wearing a suit that looked like it had been tailored for a king.

His eyes were black ice, assessing me, scanning me as if trying to measure my value.

"You must be Amaya," he said, voice smooth, low, dangerous.

I nodded. Words failed me.

"Your father did not teach you to speak?," he continued, stepping closer. Each movement deliberate, slow, like a predator circling its prey. "Very well. I like a woman who knows to hold her tongue"

I swallowed, trying to appear calm. My hands trembled at my sides.

"Yes....husband," I said, though the words were barely audible.

He stopped just short of touching me, his presence suffocating.

"Do you know my name, girl?" He asked.

"My father says your name is Raul"

"Good. Did he also mention I prefer obedience from my women?"

Women? Were they more like me?

"Yes"

"You will learn obedience under my roof and you will learn quickly. Resistance only leads to you being punished."

I flinched. The words weren't a threat; they were a promise.

What did he mean by punished?

Would he beat me?

A servant stepped forward and motioned for me to follow. I did, though my legs felt weak.

My husband....no, my owner did not look away. He watched me like I was a puzzle he intended to solve, piece by piece.

The room assigned to me was smaller than I expected but elegant.

I stepped inside, closing the door behind me.

I sank onto the edge of the bed, hands gripping the fabric of my dress. I was alone. Alone, and trapped, and trembling.

My mind raced. How had my life led to this? How had my father traded me to this man like I was nothing?

The moments dragged on. I couldn't bring myself to cry, but my chest ached anyway, as if it were mourning a freedom I had never fully understood until now.

Then I heard the click and my new husband entered the room.

No knock. No warning. Just the faint scent of leather, danger, and dominance. I shrank back instinctively.

"You look smaller than I imagined you know," he said, circling slowly. "Perfectly fragile. Easily broken. I like that about you."

I was paralyzed, trapped in the cage of fear he had created with a single glance.

"You will come to understand your place here," he said finally, stopping in front of me. "And when you learn that... you will survive."

I nodded, because nodding was easier than refusing. Easier than arguing and a lot easier than getting punished.

"I understand"

I bit my lip to stop a whimper. My body was screaming, every nerve alive with fear.

But I had no choice. None.

He stepped back then, motioning subtly to the servants.

"She will stay here tonight. Prepare her room. Make sure she is comfortable."

The servants obeyed, and I realized, with a hollow sinking in my chest, that I was done for.

My father was gone.

My freedom was gone. I belonged to someone else now, someone who could decide every moment of my life.

I sank to the floor beside the bed as soon as my husband and his servants left.

I tried to steady my breathing, but the reality of it all-the sale, the cage, the man who I had just been sold to, pressed down until I could barely move.

I closed my eyes, praying silently.

But not for escape, because I knew escape wasn't possible. I just needed strength.

Because even though I had no idea what darkness awaited me, I knew it would rip me apart.

The door opened without warning that night, and my chest tightened.

The air shifted, heavy and sharp, and I couldn't move. Fear had become second nature to me from the minute I step foot in this place.

Every instinct screamed at me to run, but the wall behind me reminded me there was nowhere to go.

Even if I did have anywhere to go, I would be dragged right back here.

Raul stepped inside, every movement deliberate, like he owned the shadows themselves.

My heart hammered so hard it hurt.

"You're awake, girl" he said, voice low, smooth, dangerous.

"I... I am," I whispered, voice trembling.

He stopped, eyes scanning me.

His smile, thin and cruel, didn't reach his eyes.

"Do you remember earlier" he said, circling slowly. "When I said you looked perfect for breaking."

I pressed my hands to my bed, clutching my sheets like it could shield me.

"I... I do," I whispered, though the words tasted bitter.

His eyes glinted.

"Did your father tell you about the duties of a wife? To please her husband?"

"My aunty did" I managed to respond.

My father's older sister had gone through the pains of enlightening me on the concept of sex and how a woman had no right to refuse her husband her body.

When I asked her if it would hurt, she simply said a woman's life is filled with pain and hurt.

The difference between a weak and strong woman was one's ability to endure and overcome such pains.

Looking at Raul now, he was going to be a permanent source of pain for me.

I could feel it.

"Good," he said now nearing me, "You were at least taught something. Now, raise your gown and bend over for me"

I was a virgin and had no idea how the dynamics of sex worked but I doubt it was like this.

"I.....I can't do....."

Then his hand shot out. The slap landed across my cheek with a crack that made me reel.

Pain blossomed red-hot across my skin, my knees buckling slightly.

"Do not dare say no to me!," he hissed. "You are mine. Every thought, every breath... mine!!"

I pressed myself against the wall, trembling.

"Yes... I-"

He stepped closer, heat and threat pressing into me. His hand brushed my hair, pulling my head back.

"You will learn to submit to me. You will learn. Tonight."

I wanted to scream, but my voice failed me.

Then he grabbed me. His hands were rough and forceful.

My knees buckled; I struggled, desperate to push him away while he tried to rip my dress off so he could claim me in the worst way possible.

"Please... no! Stop! You're hurting me, please!!" I begged, panic rising in waves.

I was sure that all hope was lost for me but that was when I heard it.

BANG!!!

The first gunshot tore through the compound. Windows rattled, walls shook. My chest jolted; terror and relief collided.

He froze mid-motion, eyes narrowing.

"Stay there!" he barked. "Do not move. Not an inch!"

I said nothing, only moved to the corner of the bed, shivering violently.

Gunfire suddenly exploded.

It was rapid, precise, terrifying. Shouts followed. The world outside the room had erupted into chaos.

He cursed, low and guttural, stepping back, trying to figure out what was happening in his compound.

My body quaked.

Another round of shooting. Closer. Louder.

He stumbled, clutching his side. Panic in his eyes.

I could have sworn I saw a flicker of fear. This was the first time he ever looked human to me.

Through the door, masked figures poured into the room.

I couldn't take my eyes off them: coordinated, lethal, moving like shadows.

They were here for him. I could feel it.

"Stay back!" he yelled, lunging toward them.

Guns flashed, bullets filled the air, and the room became a storm of violence.

I sank to the floor, pressed against the carpet, helpless. My chest pounded, breaths short, trembling uncontrollably.

And then... I saw it happen.

One shot. My husband.....the man I had just begun to fear, fell to the floor.

Blood blossomed across his shirt. His eyes widened, shock replacing anger. He tried to rise. Another shot. This time to the head.

And then he was gone.

Dead.

Just like that.

Before I could breathe, hands grabbed me.

Strong, rough, unyielding. I struggled, screamed, tried to push away. But the masked men were fast, brutal, terrifying.

I was dragged out, stumbling over debris, past broken doors, over shattered glass, and dead bodies.

This was a massacre.

I yelled and begged for them to please let me go as I was innocent in all this.

"Quiet," a voice commanded.

I didn't dare speak. My heart was in my throat. My mind raced.

Where were they taking me? Who had sent them? Who were these men?

My father had sold me. My husband had tried to rape me.

And now... he had murdered in front of me and I'm getting kidnapped with no idea what awaited me next.

We reached a van outside. The rain slicked pavement reflected the chaos, flashes of gunfire lighting the sky.

They threw me inside.

The smell of leather and gunpowder filled my senses. I was shoved onto the cold metal floor, hands now tied, my dress ripped and wet with Raul's blood.

"Where... where are you taking me?" I managed to whisper, voice hoarse.

No answer. Only a glance from one of the masked men.

His eyes were cold, commanding, dangerous And I realized: I was at the mercy of strangers.

As the van doors slammed shut, my body trembled violently. Tears threatened, but this time I let them fall.

The van lurched forward, tires screaming against the asphalt, carrying me into the unknown.

And for the first time since I was born, I understood one thing clearly;

I was going to die..

I had no idea how long I had been in that cold van, praying to God that this was not the night I went to meet my mother.

There were no windows for me to look out of and I could barely hear anything other than the sound of heavy tires pressing against gravel.

Eventually, the van stopped with a violent jolt.

My body slammed against the cold metal floor, the ropes cutting into my wrists and ankles.

The masked men didn't speak.

At least not to me. They simply grabbed me and dragged me out.

I realized quickly that arguing, begging, or moving would be useless.

I was also worried that they would lose their temper and hurt me if I made too much of a fuss.

I was yanked to my feet the few times that I lost my footing, stumbling, legs weak, every nerve screaming.

My dress was torn, my hair plastered to my face, my skin stinging from bruises. I wanted to collapse, but the hands that held me were iron.

"Where are you taking me?" I asked again, voice cracking, though I knew no one would answer.

"SHUT YOUR MOUTH!"

I obeyed.

I was dragged down a corridor I didn't recognize. Concrete walls, bare, harsh lights flickering overhead, and the echo of boots on the floor.

The sound followed me like a heartbeat I couldn't escape.

"Please... I just.... let me go," I begged, trembling. "I'll do anything. Just... don't..." My voice broke.

I couldn't even finish the sentence.

What exactly could I offer up in exchange for my life?

The men didn't answer. They just pushed me forward. I stumbled again, hands scraping against the cold concrete.

My chest felt hollow.

Who were these people? What did they want? Was I going to die here, alone, in this strange place?

They stopped in front of a heavy metal cell door.

One of them pushed me inside, shoving me hard enough that I fell to my knees.

The door slammed behind me with a sound that made me flinch, and the lock clicked into place.

I was alone.

The room was small. Bare. Cold. The only light came from a single flickering bulb overhead, making the shadows dance across the walls.

My wrists ached from the ropes. My legs trembled. I collapsed against the wall and wept.

I thought of my mother.

Of the last time I had seen her, the soft warmth of her hands, the way she had held me close and whispered that I was safe.

That she would protect me.

She wasn't here. She had died in her sleep and couldn't protect me now. She never would again.

The memories twisted inside me, pain cutting sharper than any slap, deeper than any wound.

I had been sold. Beaten. Humiliated. And now... I didn't know if I could survive this next step.

Laughter came from the corridor outside. Harsh. Cruel. Mocking.

"What's the matter, little girl?" a voice sneered from outside the cell. "Scared? Think you're going to cry your way out of this?"

I didn't respond but the mockery did not stop there.

"You look really cute when you cry you know. Maybe we could have a taste of you before the boss has you"

Another one of the guards spoke.

"Looks like the wife of Raul the great is now at the bottom of the barrel," laughter exploded, "Oh how the mighty have fallen"

I curled into myself, rocking slightly, unable to respond.

My body shook violently, my lips trembling as sobs racked through me.

I pressed my hands over my face, the ropes cutting into my skin, my body trembling.

My father would have allowed a lot of things to befall me but I couldn't believe that he would allow this

His daughter, in a dirty cell, mocked by guards who would not be able to look me in the eye on a regular day.

He must have heard about the attack on Raul's compound by now.

He must have heard that Raul was killed and he probably believed that I must have been killed as well.

I wasn't dead...... at least not yet but nobody else knew about that.

Which meant that one wrong move and I just might die here. I could die here.

Alone. No one would know. No one would notice and no one would even care.

I finally allowed myself to fall into despair. .

Outside the cell, the laughter continued.

I could hear their voices joking about what they would do when the "boss" came for me.

"You better leave that one alone," one said, mockingly. "The boss would not like to hear about his playthings being bullied"

I flinched at the words, my chest tightening.

Plaything?

Was that was I about to be reduced to? Amaya Vancouver, daughter of a powerful man, now reduced to the plaything of this mysterious Boss?

My entire life was falling away.

And as I lay there, listening to the mocking voices fade, my tearmixing with the cold concrete, I wondered about "The boss"

Whoever he was, I knew from the sound of it that he was the one in control.

He would decide my fate.

If I lived or died here was up to him and I had no say in it.