The Mafia's Bride The Auctioning

The tap of the pen on the table had been going on for less than five minutes, and it was already creating chaos in my head. I needed to think, but there was nothing.

No clue.

No evidence.

I was just staring at the footage, the only footage we could get our hands on and it only involved the man dying. The footage was tampered with, and we were here looking at a dead man.

"Did you see anything?" Kamal spoke from my side, and I threw my hands up in surrender.

"Nothing. Three murder cases in one week, five people murdered in the case, and not a single detail leading to this killer bee that suddenly came from... the land of the dead?" I huffed in annoyance.

"But what if that was the case?" I glared at Kamal and the stupid words that were about to come out of his mouth. "A serial killer died a week ago, and out of the blue, another comes up. What if he is not dead but pretended to be?" My mind railed in different directions.

"That's a good idea..." I stood up, reaching for the drawer.

"It is? Well, of course, it..."

"No. Your idea of having the dead being brought back to life is absolutely stupid. I'm speaking of the serial killer's background. Friends? Family? Anyone that seems like a perfect replacement. You never know if there's an agency connected to this." I picked up his file to search for anything, any clue, and... bingo!

I stared at the red-haired woman in the photo with him. Perhaps that's his wife, and that might just lead us to more things.

"Kamal, make a research on everything and everyone involving Peter Hans. Something doesn't seem right, even if he has been dead for a week. Jenny, get any information you can about the dead man in the footage."

"Yes, ma'am!"

"I must get all the reports by tomorrow, 4 p.m. Do not fucking slack or I'll have you fed to the dogs!" Both of them jumped, but they knew I was not joking about anything I said. "...Have a lovely night."

I stripped my badge as I stepped out of the station before driving home. I'd been out for two hours, and it had been nothing but one murder to another. But what do they really gain from killing people?

Taking a corner, I realized my front porch lights were on... My lights are never left on. I parked a few blocks away with my gun strapped in my waistband. I walked quietly to the house. I had no visitors coming, and no one had the keys to my house. The neighborhood was quiet, and it was exactly 11 p.m.

My senses heightened as I picked up movement in the dark through the window. There were two people, one in the living room, one in my room. I pulled my gun out, holding it to the side of my head, ready to fire, before I unlocked the back door quietly.

My nostrils flared as I walked in the dark. None of them spoke, but I could hear footsteps in my room.

"Hands over your head!" I growled and flipped the lights on, my gun pointed at his head... at my father's head. "...Papa!" I yelled in annoyance. "...I could have shot you! What are you doing here?"

"Don't be rude to your father!" my mother snapped, and I looked at them unbelievably.

"You break into my house, unannounced, knowing I could kill you!" I yelled at her, and she put her hand over her chest dramatically. "...Jesus! What the hell are you both doing in my house?" I really did not care about their God-forsaken emotions, for I know they certainly don't have one.

"You leave home and you've lost your manners, young lady. Apologize to your mother." He reached for his wife.

"I certainly don't remember having one when you both disowned me!" Mama gasped while my father looked at me with eyes that could kill.

"You are a disgrace to the family."

"I do not have a family! You chose your sweet little Dolores to be proud of because she's pretty and looks like Mama. But I chose to become the law, and guess what I get? Hatred. And I also get hate for looking like Abuela. If by the morning you are not out of my house, I will arrest you for trespassing!"

"According to the law, you are our daughter. Or do we need to remind you of what the law is?" Papa's cold voice pierced through my skin, and I was suddenly reminded of the cold basement.

"What brings you here, Papa?" I glared at him, still holding my gun and pointing it to his forehead. I was tempted to take his life, to let him be dead like he thought I would be.

"You will return home and get married to your betrothed." My heart skipped a beat.

"I do not have a betrothed."

"You do now." He pulled a folded paper from his pants and placed it on the counter. "If you are worried whether it is illegal or not, don't worry, it is a legally arranged marriage."

"Leave my house." I clicked the gun, and he narrowed his eyes at me. I shot the wall two inches above his head. "...I will not miss the next one," I warned, and he knew I wasn't that little girl anymore, the one who would keep her mouth sealed or run away.

Mama shuddered in fear after a scream, but I didn't blink or look away from my father's eyes. He grabbed his wife before heading to the door, but he paused.

"Be at the house tomorrow by 8 a.m. Your spouse wants to see you."

"Tell him to wait. A woman will take her time to get ready." He opened his mouth to speak, and I pointed the gun at him before he walked out of the room.

The gun dropped to the floor as my entire body shook. I grabbed the paper from the table before opening it.

"I, Alvaro Jimenez, agree to auction Isabela Rios..." The paper dropped from my hand.

Auction?

He Actually Auctioned Me

My own father auctioned me like furniture. A painting.

I sat in my sitting room, staring at the news, my father auctioning me off to the highest bidder.

He used me for business. For money. For ego.

Everyone else was wise enough to auction a non-living thing. But him? He auctioned me.

And I knew that look he gave me last night. I was nothing but a woman who should be confined in a house.

The phone began to ring, and I was still staring at it. The tenth time he was calling in the span of an hour. I was an hour late. So?

I crushed the cigarette in my hand and walked to my room.

Dressed in white jeans and a red long sleeve shirt, I tucked my gun into my waistband before sliding my badge into my pocket. I didn't give a damn if I was meant to meet the man who would supposedly be my husband. Who knows? I might need to kill him before the wedding or even better, today.

Thirty minutes later, I pulled up in front of the house, my hair flowing down my back, my lips painted like the next Jessica Rabbit.

My father was always a man of culture and corruption. I was the exact opposite.

The door was pushed open, and I was faced with a room full of made men and two bodyguards probably sworn to secrecy. All eyes were glued to me, while mine locked onto my father's with a slight smile.

I was interrupting something.

"It's really interesting how the law and lawless meet. How are you all, amigos?"

I took a seat on an empty chair. Just then, a man who could age like fine wine in the future walked in and I immediately knew it was him.

How inconvenient.

"You must be my husband-to-be?" I looked at him. He raised an eyebrow with a very disapproving frown. Good to know we've already established our grounds.

"Isabela," my father warned, and I ignored the chill that gave me.

I'm not in the basement anymore.

"Tell me, Papa, is he truly the one you auctioned me to? I knew you didn't like me, but seriously?"

I gave him a look. "...Him?" I pointed my thumb at the man, reducing him to nothing.

"Mind your language..."

"Hush, Alvaro," he said, cutting my father off. Even I was surprised. No one ever hushed my father.

"You're late." He looked at me, and I could feel the tension in the air, saw how the other made men tensed.

"I had more important things to do."

"My time is precious."

"I don't care."

He raised an eyebrow, then looked past me. Someone behind me moved, and everyone but Papa left the room.

"Miss Jimenez, you are going to be Mrs. Delgado in two hours, and I do not tolerate my time being wasted. You will do as I say, give birth to my children, raise them like a good mother, and you will remain indoors."

He looked at me for a second longer, and I burst into laughter.

"That is the funniest thing I've ever heard in my life."

I wiped away invisible tears. "My fool of a father might not have mentioned it, but I am nothing like my sister. If you want obedient, prim and proper, I suggest you make a proposal like a man, not buy me off an auction like a leash holder. I am no slave. I don't care what agreement you have with him. I'm marrying you because the law says so..."

I sat up and pulled a paper from the table.

I yanked Papa's pen from his pocket while he stood in shock, wrote down my details, shoved it into his pocket, and tapped it lightly.

His jaw flexed with anger, but he kept his hand shoved in his pocket.

"That's my address. The dress and everything I need should be sent. I'll see you in five hours. Just because it's a contract doesn't mean you'll rush my wedding."

I walked toward the door and shut it in his face.

I heard my father talking, sounded like he was begging for forgiveness, but I'd had enough. I would not tolerate such disrespect, regardless of the fact that he was a made man.

I was walking down the stairs when my legs suddenly froze. My whole body was yanked from the steps and slammed against the wall.

His face remained neutral, but I could see the shimmer of rage in his eyes as he pinned me there.

"Let go of me," I said quietly, but he kept glaring.

"You'll remain in my custody until we get married and move into our house." He let go of my neck.

"I have work to do."

"Do away with it."

"You don't tell me what to do, Javier Delgado. You might order my father, but I'm not your slave! I'm going to work!"

I shoved him off and kept walking.

A hand grabbed me again and without thinking, I pulled my gun and shot his foot. Guns were drawn in my direction, but my eyes were still on him.

"Next time, I'll make sure to cut off those arms. I don't care who you are to the world, you're no one to me. Just a man with a narrow mind. I'll marry you. Don't be in a rush." I walked away.

His gaze burned holes into my back, but I didn't turn.

I pulled the door open and looked back at him once before getting into the car and driving away.

My phone rang in my pocket. I picked it up.

"We found nothing based on the case, except the dead man's wife is nowhere to be seen," Kamal's voice echoed through the speaker.

"Search for everything you can on Javier Delgado. Let Jenny handle the case."

I hung up and noticed a convoy tailing me.

That bastard sent someone to follow me?

Well, it's a good thing I'm ready to blow off some steam.

Imagine the scandalous headlines:

'Javier Delgado's Wife Found Having the Time of Her Life With His Bodyguard Hours Before the Wedding.'

I watched the wedding dress hang in the closet with a cigarette against my lips, and I was tempted.

Very tempted.

It was an hour to the wedding, and I was seated in the comfort of my study, watching the dress like a newly found game I had yet to figure out. But what if I already had?

I picked up the scissors and tilted my head while walking toward the dress, and a wicked grin spread across my face.

I began the work of Leonardo da Vinci, just with a dress, a pair of scissors, and a bit of red paint I had wasting in the back. Good thing I hadn't thrown it away.

"Oh my God!" I turned to look at the woman who brought the dress.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" I looked at my satisfied work. She looked like she had seen a ghost from her past life.

"That's worth $400,000! What is wrong with you?!" She walked to the dress and held it out before turning to me. "You are an ungrateful woman, and I'm certain it's because your father did not put a leash on..."

I slapped her across the face with the scissors, and she fell to the ground.

"You talk too much, Mira," I looked down at her. Her body shook. "Here." I tossed a cheque at her. "Fill it up with any amount and feed your family. I don't want to see you working with Javier ever again or anyone in this society. Do you understand?"

She looked at the blank cheque like she had finally seen the gold she'd been mining for. I glanced at the clock before slipping into the dress I now named Ruins.

I pushed my feet into a pair of black-heeled boots and left my hair in a ponytail before painting my lips deep red, just like the devil.

"Your blood is staining my floor," I frowned at her, and she immediately began to wipe it clean.

"Get out." She ran out, and I picked up my gun to strap upon my thigh.

I glanced up. I had ten minutes left. My phone buzzed.

"You might need to come down to the station." The hair on my nape stood. Without thinking, I grabbed my badge and drove to the station as fast as I could.

My mind raced as Kamal sent in a document on the possible person behind the agency. Turns out, there is an agency after all.

My boots clicked against the floor as I walked with my phone in my hand and a Bluetooth in my ear.

"Jenny, report."

"A woman called 911 out of the blue, reporting how she had witnessed a man kill an entire family last night by 4 a.m. She followed him without calling the police and overheard this..."

She played a recording on her phone.

"All of them are dead, but I'm afraid the police are fast on our tail. Albert was caught and killed by Boss because he foolishly left a handprint, hold on..."

There was sudden silence, then a gunshot. The recording stopped.

"Is she alive?" I looked at her, then turned to Kamal, who had little to no information on Javier's identity nothing on the murder map or the laptop.

"As of two hours ago, yes, she is alive."

"Keep her household under protection while I get married to my proposed husband." They both turned to look at me.

"What?" Kamal questioned. Then he realized what I was wearing. "You've got to be kidding me?"

"Does it look like I'm joking? Get back to work. I'll be back soon."

I was walking out when a phone call reached my ear, and I stopped in my tracks.

"Stop searching, Isabela Jimenez." A chill went down my spine, and I held on to the phone, listening. "You're digging your own grave."

"It's a good thing I love the feel of soil." I hung up and handed the phone to Jack.

"Find the voice." I headed out and drove to the church.

Was I late? Yes.

Was it considered bad luck? Yes.

Would my mother be acting up? Yes.

Would I care? Absolutely not.

Just like I assumed, everyone was waiting for the bride herself. Papa's smile fell from his face when he saw what I was wearing.

Oh, how I love being able to turn heads.

Sometimes for the wrong reasons.

"What are you wearing?" he growled. "I will not stand for your stupid behavior..."

"Hush! Do your job and walk me, or I'll do it myself. And your ego? Gone with the wind."

I gave him a bored look, and he grabbed my hand tightly and pulled me, gently yet roughly.

"If you mess this up with your stupid attitude, Dolores will be at the receiving end. Your sister is to marry a good man. If you ruin that, I'll smother you."

I laughed into the silent church. All eyes were on me and my dress.

"'Good' is not what you find in a man," I paused, digging my heel into his foot. I leaned in.

"Be nice, Papa, or I'll show the world just how bad of a decision the almighty Alvaro Jimenez has made."

His hand softened against my arm, and we continued to walk.

He cared too much about his reputation far more than his family.

I stepped upon the altar and suddenly became too aware of the man standing silently beside me.

The sermon, the vow, and everything else went by fast except...

"You may now kiss the bride."

I finally turned to meet his eyes. They were so dark, they could be mistaken for the night sky. And in a split second, a gunshot rang in the hall, and everything went into chaos.

So much for a wedding.

"Mario, take her to the car!" Javier yelled.

I smacked Mario with the back of my hand so hard and pulled the trigger on his head.

"You send one more person to get me into a car, and I will blow your head up!" He glared at me.

"Do not be stupid, I have no time for you games..."

"And I thought you were a made man." I pushed him out of the way and shot straight into the eye of a sniper upstairs. "Get in the car, Javier, and let me do my job."

I pulled my phone and picked up the second gun from the floor.