~~AURELIA~~ I don’t know what happened. One moment, I’m gasping through my teeth as the room spins— And the next, I’m back in this prison of a room, my neck bleeding and throbbing like it’s been torn open. Did he bring me back? After nearly draining me? A sharp knock startles me. I jerk upright and nearly fall, but catch myself just in time. “…Aurelia? You in there?” Petra? What the hell does she want now? My vision is so blurry I can barely see past the foot of the bed. But I see her boots—high-heeled, leather, gleaming like from the moonlight pouring through the window— As she steps into the room without waiting for permission. “Oh god,” she breathes, her voice full of syrupy, false pity. “You’re going to die soon, you know. Bleeding out like a stuck pig.” From where I lie, I can only see her shadow glide across the room, elegant and cruel. “Come on,” she whispers, crouching down. “I can
**RAFAELE**“Heard you bought the human girl… Made her your pet and all.”My father’s voice drips with mockery as he lounges across from me in my casino’s VIP suite, a half-naked stripper straddling his lap, her neck bleeding beneath his harsh fangs.I don’t look at him. My gaze stays on the pole where Petra, my favorite blood bag, spins slowly—naked from the waist up in high heels. She gives me that seductive look of hers as she presses her chest to the pole, silently offering herself.It would’ve worked before. But not today.I raise my wineglass instead, and she huffs her disappointment as she twirls on the pole.“News travels fast, Papà,” I reply flatly.He wipes the blood off his lips with a silk napkin. “Don’t know why you still keep that one around,” he says, nodding toward Petra on the pole. “She eyes you like a bitch in heat. It’s pathetic.”“I like her,” I mutter.“You should be more careful,” he says, exhaling smoke. “Everyone in Taormina’s talking. A girl you bought at an
AURELIAI’m going to die.The thought rings in my head as I plummet downwards.Tree thorns scrape my face, and I brace for the end—for branches to rake across my skin, to split my flesh and bones…But suddenly—I’m hanging. Mid-air.My face is inches away from the sharp tips of the branches.What in the actual hell?The next thing I know, the air is being ripped out of my lungs as my body floats upward—back toward the window.This has to be some sort of sick hallucination.Shaking, I land on my feet inside the room.The bedroom light—a gothic-styled chandelier—is now on, casting everything from the wardrobe to the dark oak desk set at the far end, in a rich golden hue.Across the room, lounging on the couch, legs crossed, with a cigar in hand, is the Don.“How was the flight?” he asks coolly, like he didn’t just throw me out the window and made me float back up. What in the sorcery?“How did you—what did you do to me?” I whisper, clutching my arm in fear.His eyes—They’re no longer g
AURELIA“Lot Number 306. Female. Estimated age: nineteen. Virgin. No prior ownership.”The crowd hums, a few murmurs of interest fluttering across the room as the handler announces my “specs” behind me.I squint, trying to see past the light… as I finally adjust to the scene in front of me.A gasp nearly escapes as I take in the rows of seats filled with men in tuxedos sipping champagne.A woman in designer heels lazily films me on her phone with a smirk on her porcelain face.I see another woman whispering and pointing at me…“We’ll start the bidding at one hundred thousand. Do I hear one-fifty?”“Hundred!” someone barks from the left.The handler scoffs. “Do I hear one-fifty?” he insists.“One-fifty,” a slick voice calls out.Bile rises in my throat as the bidding rises fast from left to right. Voices barking over each other like dogs at a bone. One-fifty, two hundred, three hundred…A woman in pink heels giggles and shouts,“Three-fifty. She’ll be perfect for my top-floor girls. He
>>>>DECADES EARLIER“My princess,” Isadora beams at her little girl whose arms are wrapped tightly around her favorite stuffed lion as she climbs onto the kitchen counter in their vintage Italian Power Kitchen. She playfully gasps and shoos her off with the back of her hands. “Alessia! Cadi! Scendi giù!” “Mamma,” Alessia pouts, dragging out the word, “why can’t I go outside today?” Isadora hesitates. Her smile fades a little as she says gently. “Because Papa said so. It’s not safe today.” “It’s never safe,” Alessia mumbles in disappointment. “I just wanna play… with the kids across the street.” Isadora crouches to her level, “There are no kids across the street,” she says carefully. “Only big men with guns.” Alessia frowns. “Then why are they smiling?” Isadora doesn’t answer. Instead, she lifts a piece of strawberry to her daughter’s lips as a form of distraction. “For the princess,” she says with a smile. Alessia grins, oblivious of her mother’s intentions