The Mafia's little pet

Mila.

It was my birthday today, and man, I was over the moon. Finally, at 18, I could pack up and leave this nightmare behind. No more dealing with my drunk, abusive dad or that wicked stepmom of mine.

I had no clue how they even got married in the first place. All I knew was that my real mom had bailed on the house because she couldn't take him anymore. She hated his guts so much she just up and left.

Turns out, she never even divorced the jerk. But honestly? I didn't give a damn about their messy marriage drama. All I cared about was breaking free from this hellhole and starting fresh somewhere new.

A whole new life, you know? I had big plans: finish my senior year of high school, then use the college money my mom stashed away for me, plus whatever help I could get from my grandma.

Thank God my dad had no idea about that cash. Way back when she left, she snuck into my room one night, tears in her eyes. "Mila, baby, forgive me for leaving you here with him," she whispered, hugging me tight.

"He's no good, but I can't fight anymore. Use the money I saved-it's for your future." Then she was gone, just like that.

If I'm being real, I didn't blame her one bit. She was sick, dying from some awful illness, and he still beat her senseless. Mental abuse, emotional torture, punches that left her black and blue-he did it all.

I always thought I was tougher than her, that I could stand up to him without crumbling. But nah, that was just wishful thinking. After she left, he turned all that rage on me. I became his punching bag, his easy target.

Deep down, though, I missed her like crazy. Part of me hoped we'd reunite someday, if she was still out there fighting. But today? It was just another day in my crazy world, except now I was legal. Free to do whatever. I decided to head to school early, beat the rush.

School was a million times better than home. Staying there meant slaving away like a maid-cleaning, cooking, taking hits. My stepmom was a nightmare, always bossing me around, but she was nothing compared to my dad. That was the worst part of it all.

At school, things were different. Sure, repeating classes got boring as hell, but I busted my butt for straight A's. I needed those good grades for a top college or a scholarship.

Mom's money wasn't some huge fortune-not even a million bucks. So, I was hunting for a part-time job too, something to cover rent if the dorms were full. I had it all mapped out, especially after the way my dad started getting too touchy lately.

Beating? I could handle that. But the thought of him... yeah, no way. I wasn't sticking around for that.

I scanned the hallway for Helen, my best friend. She was gorgeous, but that old-lady name? I teased her about it nonstop. "Hey, Helen, you look like you stepped out of a grandma's photo album!" I'd say, and we'd crack up. School was my escape-I joined clubs, acted silly, let loose. No chains holding me back, no gag on my mouth like at home.

I spotted her by the lockers and waved. She rushed over, grinning big. "Mila! Happy birthday, girl! You're officially an adult-watch out, world!"

"Thanks, Helen! Feels good, doesn't it?" I hugged her tight. "So, spill-what's the plan for today? We gotta make it epic."

She linked arms with me, walking toward class. "Epic? Honey, with your luck? But seriously, what are you doing to celebrate? Party? Cake? Or just surviving another day?"

I winked, keeping it light. "Run away, that's the plan. Far, far away from you-know-who."

We both laughed, but I saw the worry in her eyes. She knew everything-how my dad wasn't just mean, he was dangerous. Back when I was a kid, I'd show up to school covered in bruises, scrapes, even broken bones from falls he caused. Sprained arms, limping legs-no one helped.

Not teachers, not friends. Nobody. At home, he'd blame me for every little thing, especially why Mom left. "It's your fault she ran, you little shit!" he'd yell, then bam-a fist to my face. It was normal, like brushing my teeth.

But today was my day. I wouldn't let him ruin it. After the final bell, I bolted out, racing home to grab my stuff and go.

The second I pushed open the front door, there he was-Dad, lurking by the entrance, eyes narrowed like a predator. He'd been waiting, I could tell.

I ignored him, heading straight to the kitchen for a quick bite. Where's that stepmom? I glanced around-no sign of her. Panic hit me hard. This wasn't good.

He let out this ugly, booming laugh. "Well, look who showed up! It's your fucking birthday, bitch! Special day for my little princess."

I rolled my eyes, stomach twisting. "Not today, Dad. Please, just... let me be." I begged, voice shaky.

But he was already sloshed, like always by afternoon. Stinking of booze, he lunged, slamming me against the wall. His breath hot on my face. "Watch your mouth, girl, or I'll end you right here." His hand squeezed my arm, pain shooting through me. I screamed, couldn't help it.

"What... what could go wrong today?" I gasped, trying to stay calm, push him off, get my feet under me.

He raised an eyebrow, smirking like the devil. "Oh, plenty. Remember when your mom ditched me? I blew every cent on drugs, booze, nights with whores-and yeah, that bitch upstairs helped spend it. But I turned it around. Bought my dream nightclub. Money wasn't mine, though-borrowed from a big-shot businessman. Two years later, he wants it back. With interest."

He leaned in closer, his body pinning mine. I took a nervous breath. "I... I don't get it. You make decent money now. Just pay him back, right? What's the big deal?"

Dad's grin turned evil, eyes gleaming. "Oh, sure. But why pay cash when I got something better? Something he wants more."

I froze, brain spinning. What the hell was he talking about? "Then give him whatever it is! Just settle it!"

He moved fast, trapping me between his arms and chest. I felt trapped, like a mouse in a cage. "And he said yes. So... from now on, you're his. Payment in full."

Mila.

"What the hell are you saying?" I screamed, shoving at him with all my strength. Tears burned my eyes, but I fought them back. No way this was real.

He just laughed, holding tighter. "You heard me. Do you think I had a choice? Money over you, kid. He saw your picture, said you were perfect. Deal's done."

"I hate you! I hate you so much! God, it's my birthday-I'm 18 now! I can leave this shithole forever!" I yelled, glaring daggers. "Why do you hate me? I'm your daughter, you bastard! Fuck you!"

He shrugged, like it was nothing. "You should be happy, actually. You don't even know who he is yet-trust me, it's a step up. And yeah, I'm all about the club now, the cash it brings. Didn't get to have my fun with you like I did with your mom. Time's up for that." He spat the words as I broke free, bolting for the stairs.

Each vile word made me run faster. I slammed into my room, heart pounding. Grabbed my backpack, stuffed it with clothes, the little cash I had, Mom's letter-everything important. Locked the door with the key, then stormed back down, past him. He didn't move, didn't stop me. Just watched with that smug look.

I should've known. He was smarter than I thought. At 18, I was "legal" for whatever sick plan he had. He knew I'd try to run, but he didn't care. Everything was falling into place for him.

Never in a million years did I think he'd sell me off for money. He didn't even need it! But no, he did this on purpose. Whatever twisted thoughts were in his head, I didn't care. He was a monster, deserved to rot in jail.

And this "birthday gift"? Yeah, real thoughtful.

I snatched my phone, dialing a taxi as I hit the front yard. But there it was-a sleek black car blocking the gate. Weird. Before I could react, rough hands grabbed me from behind. "Let go! Help!" I screamed, kicking and twisting.

Two big guys in suits dragged me toward the car. "Shut it, girl," one growled. "Boss's orders."

"No! Get off me!" I fought harder, nails scratching, but they were too strong. One splashed something cold and wet on my face-chloroform, maybe? The world spun, blurred. I blacked out, everything going dark as they shoved me inside.

Before those guys in black suits could knock me out completely, I had just enough time and fire in me to curse them out, scream at the top of my lungs, and throw some wild punches their way.

But let's be real-they weren't getting a single scratch from me. I twisted and turned like a wildcat, swinging my fists as hard as I could, but it was all for nothing. They were built like tanks, and I was just a scared girl fighting for her life.

"If you don't let me go right now, you idiots are gonna regret this big time," I snarled at them, my voice shaking with rage. They didn't even flinch.

Instead, they shoved me hard into the back seat of that black car, sandwiching me between two massive muscleheads who looked like they could crush me without breaking a sweat. One of them reached over to lock the door on my side, making sure I couldn't bolt.

My threats? Total waste of breath. They just burst out laughing, like I was some kind of joke. "Whoa, princess, chill out," one of them said, keeping his cool with a straight face.

"You're not going anywhere acting like this. Just relax, okay?" I lunged at him, aiming a punch right at his smug face, but he grabbed my wrist like it was nothing and held me back.

I wasn't giving up that easy. I twisted my head toward the street, spotting a few cars driving by in the distance. "Help! Somebody help me!" I yelled as loud as I could, hoping-praying-that someone would hear and pull over. But nope.

Either no one heard, or they saw what was happening and decided to mind their own business. The world felt so cold in that moment, like I was invisible.

"Let me go! Now!" I screamed again, my voice cracking. I figured if I kept yelling, maybe I'd annoy them enough to slip up.

And yeah, it kinda worked-one of the four guys in the car groaned, rubbing his temples. "Can we just drug her or something already?" he snapped at the others, his tone all sour and fed up. "This girl's giving me a pounding headache."

They treated me like I was less than dirt, like my whole fight didn't matter one bit. "No way," another guy shot back, sounding all bossy and in charge. "The boss wants her awake and breathing when we get there. No shortcuts."

"Who the hell is this 'boss' guy anyway?" I demanded, my heart racing.

"I don't know him! Please, just let me go. I'll do anything-pay you back, whatever it takes. I beg you, make this stop. My life's already hell with my dad beating me every day, yelling at me, treating me like trash. That's enough torture. Come on, don't you guys have daughters? Sisters? Have a heart!" I poured it all out, trying to hit them right in the feels, make them see me as a person, not just cargo.

I stared into their eyes, searching for even a flicker of sympathy, but their faces were stone-cold. No dice. My emotional plea bounced right off them.

"You'll meet the boss soon enough, little princess," one chuckled, brushing off my words like they were nothing.

What a bunch of heartless jerks! It was like I hadn't said a word. They acted deaf, ignoring every desperate plea. "I'm not your damn princess, for crying out loud!" I shouted back, my anger boiling over hotter than before.

"Shut your yelling right now," one of them warned, his voice low and threatening. "You're property of the most powerful man on the planet. Be grateful for that."

That hit me like a truck. I froze for a second, my brain short-circuiting. The most powerful man? What the actual hell? The shock clamped my mouth shut, leaving me staring at them in stunned silence.

But it didn't last. The tears came flooding out then, hot and unstoppable. I sobbed over and over, choking on my own spit, my whole body shaking. I couldn't hold it in anymore-the fear, the betrayal, it all crashed down.

One of them scowled, his patience snapping. "Please, for the love of God, stop those tears," he barked. "You're being a real pain in the ass."

"Please... just let me go," I sobbed, wiping my face with shaky hands. "It's my birthday today. I'm 18 now-finally free to live my own life. I don't want to be a slave. I just want out."

One of the guys-the one who looked a little softer than the rest-glanced at me with what seemed like pity. He even cracked a small, warm smile as he studied my face. "Easy there. It'll all be over in a few minutes. You'll be home soon enough," he said gently.

I could tell he felt bad for me, like he wanted to help end this nightmare but was stuck following orders. He had kind eyes, not like the other robots who showed zero emotion. It gave me a tiny spark of hope, but I wasn't done fighting. I started begging louder, more frantic, repeating myself like a broken record "Let me go, let me go, let me gooooo!" My voice echoed in the car, desperate and raw.

That's when they lost it. One of them grabbed a small bottle and sprayed that cold, chemical liquid right in my face. It burned my eyes and nose, making my head spin instantly. The world blurred, edges going fuzzy, and my limbs felt heavy, like lead. I slumped back, fighting to stay awake, but it was no use.

"What the hell are you doing to her?" the second guy yelled, his voice full of panic. "The boss is gonna kill you for this!"

"I... I couldn't take her crying anymore, man," the guy who'd sprayed me stammered, looking horrified at what he'd done. "Did you hear her? She's been through hell-abused by her own dad. Look at her arms, covered in bruises. Probably beat her bad, maybe worse. The boss will get why I did it. Kid's been through enough."

Yeah, right. I was pretty sure the boss would have his head on a platter. But before I could think another thing, everything faded to black. I slipped into unconsciousness, floating away to some dark, empty place far from the terror.

When I finally came to, the first thing I noticed was the cool air on my skin. I was totally naked-no clothes, nothing. My eyes fluttered open, and I blinked hard, trying to make sense of where I was.

A huge king-sized bed with silky sheets surrounded me, the kind you'd see in a fancy hotel. And on the wall across from it? A massive oil painting of... me? It was so detailed, like someone had captured every curve of my face, every strand of my hair. What the...?

For a split second, I thought I was dreaming. I pinched my arm, wincing at the sharp pain. Nope, this was real. I sat up slowly, my head still throbbing from whatever they'd drugged me with, and looked around the room.

It was straight out of a magazine-plush carpets, gold-trimmed furniture, floor-to-ceiling windows with heavy curtains. It felt like I'd woken up in a palace, not some creepy prison. But the memories hit me like a wave: the car, the men, my dad's betrayal. This wasn't a dream; it was a living nightmare.

I glanced down at myself, touching my bare skin in disbelief. Why was I naked? And that painting-why would anyone have a giant portrait of me hanging there like I was some kind of trophy? My mind raced, questions piling up until my head felt like it might explode. Panic bubbled up again, tight in my chest. What was going on here? Until I...

Ace Lincoln's POV.

It's been a week since that jerk was supposed to pay me back the money he owes. Two years ago, he came to me broke and desperate. He wanted to get his life straight and open a nightclub, so I loaned him a million bucks. I didn't think twice about it-it's what I do for a living. I'm a loan shark. I give out money, but I charge crazy high interest on everything.

This time, though, he wasn't offering cash. He was offering his daughter instead.

My collectors came to me that night. They said when it was time to collect the loan plus interest, he wouldn't pay.

When I learned his club was making tons of money every night from those gambling tables, I got so mad I almost wrecked my office.

"Then kill him," I yelled. I was totally out of control with anger.

But my right-hand man stepped in to calm me down. "Mr. Ace," he said, "he wants to pay, but not with money."

I tilted my head, wondering what could be worth more than cash. "With what, exactly?"

He shrugged. "He wants to talk to you face-to-face about it. He promised if you don't like the deal, he'll pay back your money plus interest."

I laughed it off. "Okay, let's go scare the hell out of him right now."

I planned to walk into his nightclub and punch him out. But I decided to hear him out first. I have a short temper, but not when it comes to making money. I used to collect antiques, so I know how to spot a good deal and when to wait for the best one.

I was in a rush, so I took my limo. My bodyguards came with me, like always. We pulled up to his nightclub. I stormed inside, stomping my feet in anger. I held back from killing him or shutting down his damn club before he could even speak.

I had helped him before because he used to be one of my most loyal guys. That was the only reason I waited two years to ask for my money.

I burst into his office and slammed the door. He jumped up from his chair. Some cheap woman was already on his lap. I snapped my fingers. "Get the fuck out now," I ordered her.

She was in such a hurry she didn't fix her clothes. She ran out half-naked, just in her underwear.

Yeah, I'm well-known in the underground world. If I'm not about to kill the person in front of me, I don't waste time talking.

I scratched my chin, walked over, and grabbed him by the collar. "Where the fuck is my money?"

He hiccuped and gave a stupid smile. "Calm down, Mr. Ace. Sir... I have a great deal for you. I think you'll like it."

I gripped his jaw hard, squeezing until it almost popped. I gritted my teeth. "I don't have time to waste. Say it now."

He coughed and waved for me to let go of his neck. He cleared his throat and took deep breaths. Then he said, "My daughter."

I tilted my head and snorted. "You trying to trick me? What am I supposed to do with your daughter?"

He pulled a photo from his wallet and handed it to me. "Look. She's beautiful. And she's never been touched."

I couldn't describe what I felt right then. I'd never had a virgin before. I knew I was cruel and tough. I'm a badass killer with no mercy for anyone. But I don't like forcing women or hurting them. And she was a gorgeous teenage virgin.

I raised an eyebrow. "You think your daughter is worth two million dollars?"

"She's a good girl," he said, shaking and shivering.

I figured he had no more words.

I leaned in, crossed my arms, and thought for a long time. "If that's true, why are you selling her?"

He shrugged coldly. "Why not?"

I cursed. "You're a fucking jerk of a father. Okay, deal. I'll take her."

He answered fast and excited. "She turns eighteen in a few days. You can come get her."

I held up my hand to stop him. "No, not me. Don't worry. My men will handle it."

I stood up and walked out. My guys followed. I took the photo and kept staring at her face. It was like I was already in love with her, even though I'd never met her. I'd never felt anything like that before. Seriously, never.

I sighed to myself. Spending two million on a woman was dumb. I love money more than my own life. That's why my right-hand man asked me as we left, "Sir, are you serious? We could sell her other ways, like at an auction. She's not worth that much."

I turned to him. "I want her. On her birthday night. I'm fascinated."

I was. Seriously. No idea why.

Even when I went to sleep, I kept her photo with me, like a teenager. It felt like I wanted to hug and kiss her. I could barely wait to talk to her.

The next morning, I got up and started handling things. I told my guys to update the furniture in my room. Make it a comfy bedroom. And I quickly ordered a painting of her to give her.

Yes. I wanted to hang a big photo of her right in the center of the room.

I was scared that after I met her, held her, and had her under me, I'd lose interest.

I'd never been into virgins much. I'm rough and tough, but I'm not a sex addict. I only do it when I feel like it, nothing more.

My dick doesn't control me. I control everything and everyone around me. But maybe it was because she was new and exciting, like a new doll or toy. That's why I wanted this big adventure so bad.

I thought that way.

Until my men drugged her and brought her to my bedroom.

I couldn't hold back when I saw her angel-like face and the bruises on her arms and back.

She slept like a sweet angel. Like a little kid. Hopeless, helpless, and vulnerable.

I stepped back and closed the door gently. "Who did that? I said I wanted her awake."

One of my men said it hard. "She was crying. I couldn't take it. She said her real dad tried to rape her and-"

In rage, I covered his mouth and clenched my teeth. "Get him now. Tie him up and take him to the torture room. I'll deal with him in the morning. But right now, no one interrupts us."

They left. Then I went back to the room. I didn't undress fully. I just sat in the chair I put in front of her. I waited for her to open her eyes.

I sighed and stood up. I carefully took off her clothes one by one so I wouldn't scare her. I left her in her underwear to see her better. Then I covered her with the bedsheets. I didn't hate her body. I just couldn't touch her. She was so beautiful, like a princess. I wanted to treat her right.

My guys were already working on her info. They'd been gathering everything about her since I made the deal with her dad. Days of work.

I waited too long. She was sleeping deep, so I took a quick shower. I hadn't slept all night and was worn out.

To relax my body and mind, I went to the shower. I sat in the tub with water a bit warmer than room temp.

Her purity caught my eye. She was special. But there was a big age gap. She was just 18, and I was 30.

That was a huge difference. Twelve years is a lot. I didn't know if it would be easy to treat her like a lady. I didn't know if she could meet my needs and fire up my strong desires. But I knew I liked her. I wanted her to be mine and live with me forever.

It was my phone ringing. I remembered I left it on the nightstand by the bed. I jumped out of the tub fast to get it. I didn't want to scare her. I was still naked except for the towel around my waist.

When I got close to the bed, I saw her staring at me in shock. Her eyes jumped between me and the big painting of her on the wall. I figured she panicked when she saw she was undressed in a strange bed.

"Mila," I whispered soft, moving closer to comfort her. She pulled the covers around her and asked, "Who are you? Why am I here? Why is there a painting of me on the wall? And why don't you have clothes on?"

I sighed. "Your father sold you to me. But don't be scared."

She said something shocking. "You don't scare me at all. But I've never seen a naked handsome man like you before."

"What!"