The Mafia Lord's Mistress

Amaya's POV

"Everybody freeze! Stop moving! Stand where you are!" The commanding voice boomed across the club, causing all of us to obey immediately.

Next, we were all instructed to get on our knees. As I knelt down, I turned to find Matt, my boyfriend, with the same frightened look as mine. I had sneaked out against my father's strict rules to go clubbing with him.

"What's going on?" I asked him in a shaky voice. He didn't answer. Instead, he averted his gaze from mine and shrugged, leaving me more confused with each passing second.

The commotion continued as some men with their faces covered in black masks searched through the party crowd, marking some girls with a black letter X on their foreheads before pushing them off.

My heart began pounding loudly against my chest when one of the men reached me. He didn't rush to mark me with black paint. Instead, he stopped and stared back at me in an admiring way.

"She is the one I told you about," Matt said to him.

"Oh? She is a precious little thing," the man replied in his deep baritone, turning my face from side to side to get a full view.

I was still trying to process what they were talking about, but he had already spun me around and started tying up my hands with a thick rope. He tossed me towards his colleagues.

"Easy on her, boy. You know she is very important," the colleague called out.

He went on to mark me with red paint, and when I tried to resist, he held my face still to finish it. He then pushed me forward. I lost my balance and crashed on the floor. The pain from the fall seeped through my body and I screamed.

I was still too confused to realize what was going on until I was placed in a van with some other girls around my age.

It slowly started making sense. I was being kidnapped. And I think I am going to be sold.

I had barely gotten my bearings together when the van started and zoomed off. I saw Matt bidding me goodbye from where he was standing outside the club, a mischievous smirk on his face. I stared back at him with a hopeless gleam.

Throughout the journey, I was shocked. I still couldn't believe that the man I was in love with had sold me out. How he had pointed them out to me during the raid flashed in my mind. It made me begin to believe that he had lured me out just to sell me. That realization alone made my eyes cloud with tears immediately.

"I want to go home!" I blurted out between tears.

I repeated it again and again. All this while, no one cared to answer me. The girls I was in the van with were all screaming too. Some kept their heads bent while sobbing. The others had slept off.

Regret coursed over me like a thick blanket. I should have stayed back home, just like Daddy always wanted me to. Why did I disobey him? What will happen to me now that these dangerous men had caught me? What will they do to me?

A shiver ran down my spine on remembering that they had marked me with red paint instead of black. Does it mean that they will deal with me specially? More dangerously?

The van suddenly stopped, and we were brought down, our faces covered.

It wasn't the golden rays of sunlight that woke me up the next morning, just like it used to back home in my bedroom. It was a bucket of cold water splashed down my body. The chilly temperature of the water jolted me out of my rough sleep.

I sat up, a shiver running down my spine, spreading goosebumps across my skin and making the cold I got from sleeping on the tiles even worse.

One small morsel of bread was thrown at each of us, while a man stood on a makeshift stage, saying something about us getting ready to sell ourselves to their bosses tonight.

A new round of fear gripped my shoulders as I understood what he meant. I was going to get sold as a slave?

My teeth began chattering at that moment. I couldn't stop shivering, even as I was being dressed up in a red crimson bodysuit later that night.

"I bet this girl will get sold for a billion bucks," one of the men dressing me up said to his colleague.

"Yeah, I bet too. She's got the right assets in the right places. Plump boobs, curvy but slim, a rounded butt. And she is damn gorgeous too," his colleague replied.

I almost gawked when I saw him lick his thick black lips while devouring me with his eyes.

He continued, "Let's not forget that the guy that sold her to us assured the boss that she is still a virgin."

"Really?" The first one asked, "Wow, just wow!"

I swallowed past a lump at the mention of Matt's name. I still can't believe that he betrayed me like this. Tears stung at the corners of my eyes.

I was brought out to the stage with a few other girls an hour later. One woman came to show us how to stand in a somewhat seductive pose.

When my eyes roamed through the crowd of older men sitting and waiting excitedly, fear rooted my legs in a place. My whole body froze, and I couldn't move.

My heart began pounding loudlu against my chest as I imagined what whoever would buy me would do to me. Fresh tears stung at the corners of my eyes on remembering that I wouldn't be going through this if I hadn't sneaked out of the house to go clubbing with Matt.

The auction started right away. The men began bargaining for us as if we were some objects, not fellow humans.

My eyes continued roaming around, looking for nothing in particular. It was the only way not to cry, as we were commanded not to. But a few moments later, they landed on him.

A man seated at the end of the VIP section. He looked wealthy but seemed uninterested in the sales by the way he bent his head.

His nonchalance was what made me notice him, but it was his worried expression as he glanced at his Rolex watch that made me continue staring at him as if he were the one for sale.

As if sensing my stares, he looked up, and I became trapped in the gorgeousness of his gray eyes. They were so beautiful that I couldn't look away, even if I had wanted to. I didn't want to look away.

And they stared right back at me. I began pleading with him with my eyes, begging him to buy me.

"Please, sir," I said inwardly, hoping that somehow our minds would interconnect and he would hear my thoughts, "buy me."

Michael's POV

The pleading look in her eyes captivated my attention. As I stared back into her emerald green eyes, my curiosity increased with each passing second.

I had come to the Dynamite Club to clear my mind. After another dramatic night with Lauren, my wife, I had no other choice. I had asked Clement, my right-hand man, to take me to the busiest club tonight, with lots of interesting activities that could help take my mind off my problems, and he had driven straight here.

He promised me they were having a grand sale and I would be excited to witness it. It didn't occur to me that what he meant was an auction until I had entered the club thirty minutes ago.

I always hated auctions. The thought of buying another human just because I have more than enough cash to throw around doesn't sound nice to my ears. It disgusted me.

However, getting almost lost while looking at one of the most beautiful girls I have ever seen in my twenty-nine years of existence was making me rethink my hatred for auctions.

The girl on the stage was not just beautiful, she came with a banging body too, which in my opinion, was more important than having just a beautiful face.

The most important part was that I was attracted to her. Lust at first sight kind of thing.

There were about ten being auctioned on the stage, but she was the only one I saw. And she was looking back at me, more like pleading to me.

My instinct told me that she wanted me to buy her. Without wasting any more time, I motioned for Clement to get one of the auction cards for me.

The bewildered look he gave me didn't surprise me. He knew all about my hatred for these kinds of activities.

"Sir? You want me to bring you the card?" he asked in a still-shocking voice.

"Stop asking me silly questions and just do what I asked," I snapped at him.

He scampered off and returned some moments later with the card. He skeptically handed it over to me.

I snatched it from him and shot another glance at the girl, only to see that the desperation had gone out of her eyes, a look filled with gratitude replacing it.

I raised the card up and began my bidding on the girl.

Clement and some of the other men sitting near me were shocked. They knew I never engaged in such activity. They must be wondering what was so special about the girl that made me want to join them.

"Are you sure about going on with this, sir?" Clement asked, now with a worried expression.

"More than anything. Like I said, stop asking me silly questions!" I snapped at him again.

I dismissed his worried look and took majestic strides towards the front stage where I would be witnessing the auction in high definition. Next thing, I raised my card, mentioning the price I had in mind.

"Michael wants her for five million dollars!" the auctioneer said, glancing around to other VIP members gathered around the stage expectantly.

"Why would you be pricing a cheap slut for such a ridiculously high price?" Clement interjected.

I ignored him and focused on the girl. I realized that she looked even more gorgeous now that I was seeing her up-close. Her emerald green eyes were bigger, and they sparkled. Her body was more defined. The crimson bodysuit they had put her in wasn't helping matters-it accenutated her curves up to a dangerously tempting level.

"Ten million dollars! Eleven million dollars! Twelve, twelve million dollars!" The auctioneer announced.

Some of the men had joined me in competing for who would buy the girl. I gritted my teeth as the price kept going up. This was not what I had in mind when I came here. Regardless, I wouldn't be backing down anytime soon because I knew she was worth it.

Clement might be thinking that I had gone out of my mind, but the only thing I wondered was why an innocent-looking girl was being auctioned to the most dangerous set of men in the city.

Even though I had picked up the card out of pity because she had pleaded with me, the sole reason why I wanted to take part in the auction was because of curiosity. Every time I stared into those eyes, I got even more curious to find out everything I could about her.

"At fifteen million dollars, the auction goes to Don-"

I immediately raised my card and said, "Twenty million."

The loud gasp filled the whole room. I could feel all eyes turned to me, most of them looked shell-shocked, except for the auctioneer, whose eyes glittered with excitement.

"Yes! That's what we're asking for. Bring it on! Twenty million dollars from the one and only Michael Bavarish!"

"Thirty million dollars!" Don Roderick, one of the notorious men I know that doesn't fail to take part in every auction, screamed at the top of his lungs as he jumped to his feet from the other side of the VIP lounge.

I returned to the top by raising the stake higher, "Thirty-five million dollars!"

At that point, I was so sure that even the auctioneer couldn't believe her ears. She strode over to me and asked, "Are you sure about this?"

"Is this auction a joke?" I shot back, raising my brows quizzically at her.

"Of course not sir," She turned to the audience and announced, "At thirty-five million dollars, Amaya..."

"Thirty-six million dollars!" Don Roderick shouted. He stood, and even though he looked skeptical about his decision, he said, "I want the girl for thirty-six million."

I have never lost a fight and knew I wouldn't start now, not to a wimpy fellow like Don Roderick, so I raised the stake a bit higher.

"Forty million dollars!" I screamed into the air.

Another gasp from the audience. Someone muttered, "Why would you buy this low-life bitch for such a high amount?"

By then, Don Roderick was already shaking. He glanced at the girl, then at me, which I returned with another mischievous smirk.

"I want the girl for forty one..."

"Fifty million dollars!" I said before Don Roderick could finish.

"At fifty million, Amaya Bavarish goes to..." the auctioneer shot Don Roderick an expectant glance, willing a reply from him.

But Don Roderick just slumped back into his chair in defeat.

I smiled in satisfaction as I exited the club thirty minutes later, with my men bundling the girl behind me.

"Get her to my car, will you?" I commanded before sliding into my Bentley.

"Are you sure, sir?" Clement asked as he approached my car, "Look sir, isn't this girl way beyond your taste? I think you're-"

"Save your silly advice and put her in the back seat!" I barked.

While I sped past the dark streets of the city, I continued glancing through the rear view mirror. A shudder ran down my spine and gave me a little hard-on every time my eyes met her curled-up position in the backseat. She looked so sexy and vulnerable lying just like that.

"Thank you," she muttered.

My brow furrowed on hearing the voice. What exactly was she thanking me for?

"Excuse me?" I retorted, meeting her eyes in the rear view.

"Thank you for saving me," she clarified.

"I didn't save you. I bought you. I fucking own you now."

Amaya's POV

"I didn't save you. I bought you. I fucking own you now."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I sat up from my curled-up position and looked at him with confusion, my eyes widening.

"What?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

"I bought you, sweetheart. You're mine now," he said, his voice laced with dark amusement.

My mind was swirling, trying to process what he was saying. I was so lost in the moment, thinking that he had bought me to save me. But his words were making it clear that I was now his property.

"You don't understand," I said, my voice rising with each word. "I thought you bought me to get me out of there. I thought you saved me."

"For the last time, I didn't save you," he said, his voice hardening. "I bought you. I could have let you go, let them do whatever they wanted to you. But I chose to buy you. You're mine now."

"But why?" I asked, my voice cracking. "Why would you do that? Why would you buy me?"

"Why? Because you were for sale and I wanted to. I wanted to see what you were like. I wanted to own you," he said, his voice cold.

I looked at him, my heart pounding in my chest. It felt like he was playing with me, like I was just a toy to him.

"Please," I pleaded, my voice a mere whisper. "Take me home. I don't want to be here with you."

"Home?" he laughed, a harsh sound. "You don't have a home. Not anymore. Your new home is wherever I decide it would be."

"Please," I repeated, my voice choked with tears. "Just take me home."

He just looked at me from the rear view, his gray eyes now dark and unreadable. I felt like I was drowning, like I was trapped in a nightmare.

"Please," I begged, tears streaming down my face because I could no longer hold them back just like I have been doing all night. "Just take me home."

He didn't say anything, just stared at me with those dark eyes. He was so cold, so indifferent. It was like I was just another object to him, something he could buy and discard whenever he wanted.

He stopped the car and turned to me, "Get ready," he said, his voice a low growl, "I will be having a taste of you soon."

I recoiled from him, my body shaking with fear.

"No," I cried, my voice cracking. "Please, don't make me do this. I don't want to do this."

I saw a man approaching us. He opened the back door and must have overheard what I was saying to the man who bought me. "You don't have a choice," he said to me, "my boss has paid a lot of money for you."

"I don't care about his money," I sobbed, my tears falling freely. "I just want to go home."

"You're home now," he said, his voice a cruel whisper. "This is your home now."

He turned and walked towards a lone cottage, leaving me alone with the man who bought me. He didn't say a word, just watched me as I crumbled to the car floor, my body wracked with sobs.

He turned from his seated position and lowered himself in front of me, his face inches from mine. I flinched away, but he didn't move. His eyes were still dark and unreadable, but there was a hint of something else in them, something I couldn't quite place.

"Who are you?" he asked, his voice low and husky. "Why do you want to go home so badly?"

I looked at him, my heart pounding in my chest. He was so close, I could feel his breath on my skin. It was intoxicating. But I couldn't let myself be seduced by his charm, not when I was so scared.

"My name is Amaya Williams," I said, my voice trembling. "I just want to go home."

His eyes narrowed slightly, and he seemed to be thinking. He leaned back, his gaze fixed on my face.

"Amaya Williams," he repeated slowly, his lips forming a small smile. "That name sounds familiar."

His words hung in the air, thick and heavy with meaning. My mind raced, trying to figure out why he thought my name sounded familiar. Could he possibly know me? Or was it just a coincidence?

"Do you know me?" I asked, my voice a mere whisper.

He didn't answer, just continued to stare at me, his expression unreadable.

"I... I've always dreamed of getting married first," I choked out, tears streaming down my face. "I wanted to save myself for my wedding night."

He stared at me, his face unreadable. "So you're a virgin, just like the auctioneer had assured me?" he asked, his voice devoid of emotion.

I nodded, unable to meet his gaze. "I'm nineteen," I mumbled, my voice barely a whisper.

He sighed, a deep, weary sound that seemed to echo in the silence of the room. "Go inside the house, clean up and have something to eat," he said, his tone softer now. "We'll talk later."

I stumbled to my feet, my legs wobbly from exhaustion and fear. He watched me go, his eyes following my every move. I felt his gaze burning into my back, but I didn't dare turn around.

In the bathroom, I stripped off my clothes, the cold water of the shower washing away the grime and dirt of the past twenty-four hours. As I stood there, the water cascading over my body, a strange feeling washed over me.

Despite everything that had happened, I couldn't deny the pull I felt towards him. I knew it was crazy, but I found myself wanting him, wanting him in a way that went beyond simple physical attraction.

An idea began to form in my mind. It was a crazy idea, a desperate hope, but it was all I had.

Later, as we sat at the table, a simple meal of soup and bread laid out before us, he spoke. "Look, Amaya," he said, his voice serious. "I'm not going to hurt you. I just... I need some time to figure things out."

"We could get married," I blurted out, my heart pounding in my chest, "That way it would be easier to give myself to you."

He scoffed, his amusement obvious. "Who are you to make demands?" he asked, his voice laced with disdain.

My stomach twisted with hurt. I had never felt so rejected in my entire life.

"My father... he's dangerous," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "He's powerful, and he'll stop at nothing to find me."

A flicker of curiosity crossed his face. "Dangerous, you say?" he murmured, his voice low and thoughtful.