Bound By The Mafia

Akiko sat on the edge of her bed, fingers trembling as she clutched the pet carrier in her lap. Inside, Kouma peeked out through the mesh, his soft fur brushing against her wrist. Warm. Alive. The only thing that still felt real. She hadn’t slept. Not even for a moment. The events of last night replayed endlessly in her mind—her father’s cold eyes, the man’s predatory smile. She had run. Fled the mansion like a coward grasping at false hope. And yet, she had known. Running had never been an option. More than that… she couldn’t risk it. She couldn’t let her fear destroy the only person who had ever truly loved her. Keinara. Her sister. The single light in the darkness of their family. Since childhood, Keinara had been the one to shield her from their father’s cruelty. While everyone else looked away, Keinara stayed—standing between Akiko and the blows, the insults, the poison. Gentle hands. Warm embraces. Soft promises whispered in the dark. "One day, you’ll be free." The words st

A night had passed since Akiko officially became Glen Xander McKenzie's possession. The apartment he brought her to was as cold and pristine as expected — all expensive surfaces, glass, and marble. But the fridge? Completely empty, aside from canned drinks and alcohol. By morning, Glen finally handed her card and ordered her to buy groceries. ​It was a command, laced with the usual arrogance in his voice. With Kouma safely left in the apartment, Akiko went to the store. She bought only the necessities using Glen’s money—just enough to avoid complaints. For the small things meant for herself, she paid with what little savings she had left. It wasn’t about money. It was about not letting him take control of everything. As she was placing items into her shopping bag, a hand suddenly grabbed her face. Startled, Akiko turned, her heart stalling as her gaze locked onto the woman standing before her. “You…” The girl’s voice trembled, her short hair framing familiar features Akiko never t

The phone buzzed against the hard desk. Akiko didn't even glance at it. Dr. Vian. Again. Probably panicking, wondering where she had gone. But she wouldn't answer. She had made her choice-no treatment. No saving. Not anymore. Weeks under Glen Xander McKenzie had taught her one thing: obedience wasn't optional. She wasn't an assistant anymore. She was his property-silent, present, predictable. Working for Glen was chaos in control. At the office, his word was law. At home, it was no different. Space to breathe? Peace of mind? Nonexistent. Glen's firearm company had grown into a colossus, respected publicly, feared privately. Few understood the truth: this empire had a dark heart. Built from his father's fragile business, now a machine of power, money, and lethal influence. Glen didn't just protect-he commanded. He destroyed. "Aiko," Glen's voice cut the quiet like a knife. "Come here." She hesitated. Crossing the room felt like stepping into a storm. When he patted his lap, the un

The crowd buzzed with laughter and clinking glasses, but Akiko heard none of it. Her fingers still felt cold where Glen’s hand had been moments ago. She sat alone now, surrounded by strangers and golden lights that meant nothing to her. Conversations blurred into noise. Faces passed without leaving an impression. A few minutes later, Harley returned, a crystal glass in her hand. Condensation slid slowly down its surface. “What’s your name?” she asked gently. “Akiko,” she replied. Polite. Flat. Harley studied her for a moment. “How long have you known my son?” “About a month.” Something flickered in Harley’s eyes. Guilt. Regret. Or fear—Akiko couldn’t tell. “May I ask you for a favor?” Harley’s voice lowered. Akiko hesitated. Glen’s warning echoed in her head. Don’t talk to anyone. But this woman didn’t sound proud. She sounded tired. "As long as it’s something I can do.” Harley exhaled, the mask slipping just enough. “Glen wasn’t always like this,” she said softly. “He used

Two weeks had passed since the night Glen faced his family. In those fourteen days, something between them had quietly fractured. Their conversations thinned until they barely existed. Akiko spoke only when necessary—work-related. She moved through the apartment and office like a ghost, focused solely on her tasks. And Glen… Glen noticed everything. He hated the way she no longer looked at him unless she had to. Hated how his presence seemed to mean nothing to her now. But pride kept his mouth shut. He refused to be the one to bridge the distance—especially when her indifference cut deeper than any insult. So he did what he always did. He tightened control. “There’s a guest today. Try not to look like the maid.” Glen adjusted his cufflinks without looking at her. Akiko paused mid-slice. “They won’t be paying attention to me.” “Of course they will, Aiko,” he replied flatly. “You represent me now. Dress like someone who belongs next to me.” She didn’t argue. She simply turned back