LOGIN
~~LENA~~
I knew something was wrong the moment I pushed the door open.
“Lena!”
My stepmother’s voice sliced through the silence from the kitchen.
I dropped my bag near the door and walked in slowly. The acrid smell of burnt stew hung thick in the air.
“I just got back,” I said carefully.
She turned to face me, arms folded tight across her chest like she had been waiting for this fight all day.
“And the chores I told you to finish this morning?”
I paused. I had woken up early, cleaned the living room, washed the dishes, and swept the floor before leaving. So what exactly was she talking about?
“I did them before I left.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Are you calling me a liar?”
“No. I’m just saying that I did them before I—”
Before I could finish, her hand shot out, slapping me across the cheek. The sting made my head spin.
She grabbed a fistful of my hair and yanked me toward the sink, slamming my face into the pile of wet dishes. Soapy water flooded my mouth and nose.
I gasped and choked, lungs burning as I clawed desperately at the edge of the counter.
“Maybe this will teach you some sense!” she hissed.
She shoved harder. My nose slammed into the faucet,and a sharp pain exploded behind my eyes.
“You useless girl,” she snapped. “Living in this house and you can’t even do one simple thing right.”
When she finally released me, I stumbled back, water dripped from my hair.
“No wonder your real mother abandoned you,” she spat. “Even she couldn’t stand the sight of you.”
I froze. “Don’t call my mother—”
Her lips curled into a vicious smile. “What did you just say?”
“You don’t get to bring her into this.”
“Oh… you’ve grown some teeth.” She seized my arm, nails digging in like claws. “Basement. Now.”
“No—” Panic clawed up my throat. “No, no, no… please. I’m sorry. I… I didn’t mean it. I’ll do whatever you want, just not the basement. Please.”
My voice cracked as I tried to pull away, but her grip only tightened.
“Too late for apologies,” she said coldly, dragging me toward the stairs.
“Ma’am, please—”
“What’s all this noise about?”
My father’s voice cut through the hallway.
She froze for a split second. Then, like someone flipping a switch, her grip loosened and her face transformed into wounded innocence. She stepped back and pressed a hand dramatically to her chest.
“I was only trying to correct her,” she said softly. “But she started shouting at me… calling me names.”
I stared at her, stunned. The same woman who had just shoved me now looked like the victim.
My father’s gaze snapped to me, dark with irritation. “Is that true?”
“No—” My voice shook. “She was dragging me to the basement. I didn’t even—”
“Enough.” His tone was sharp and final. The single word cut straight through me.
“You will not raise your voice in this house,” he said coldly. “Especially not to your mother.”
“She’s lying,” I whispered, desperation tightening my throat.
His jaw clenched. “Not another word, Lena. Now go upstairs.”
I stood frozen for a moment, fingers curling hard at my sides.
Arguing never helped.
It only made everything worse. Because deep down I knew the truth: Father had heard every word.
He had simply chosen not to care.
Slowly, I turned and walked toward the stairs, each step heavy on the wooden floor.
Behind me, my stepmother gave a soft, pitiful sniff, playing the victim perfectly.
She had won. Again.
—
Sleep refused to come that night. My cheek still burned where she had hit me, and every time I closed my eyes the scene replayed in vicious detail.
Thirst eventually dragged me out of bed hours later. The house lay silent, faint moonlight spilling through the hallway windows as I padded quietly toward the kitchen for a glass of water.
On my way back, hushed voices drifted from the living room.
“…we’ll all die if you don’t do this,” my stepmother whispered.
My feet rooted to the floor.
“Do you want us to die? I’m pregnant, for God’s sake. Think about the baby. All you have to do is give her to him.”
My chest squeezed tight. A long silence followed before my father spoke, his voice rough.
“He’s a killer. No matter what you say, I can’t sell my daughter to a mafia boss who murders people for fun.”
My stomach dropped.
Mafia?
“No, no, don’t call it that,” my stepmother said quickly. “You’re not selling her. You’re just… letting him have her for a little while.”
Her voice softened. “We’ll get her back once the debts are settled.”
I stood pressed against the wall, the weight of their words crushing my ribs.
“So what do you say?” she pressed. “Have you made your choice? Are you giving her to him?”
The silence stretched unbearably. My heart hammered so loudly I was terrified they would hear it.
Of course he won’t. He doesn’t hate me… right?
Say no. Please, Dad. Say no.
Finally, my father spoke, defeat heavy in every syllable. “Yes.”
The glass slipped from my numb fingers and shattered on the tile. Chairs scraped loudly in the dining room.
“Did you hear that?” my stepmother whispered.
The kitchen door swung open. My father stepped out first. His eyes dropped to the broken glass, then slowly rose to meet mine.
“You were listening?” he asked quietly.
“Dad…” My voice trembled. “You were really going to sell me?”
My stepmother sighed dramatically behind him. “Oh Lena, must you always be so dramatic?”
My father ran a hand over his face, exhausted. “It’s not like that, sweetheart.”
“You said yes.”
“Listen to me,” he said gently, stepping closer. “We had no choice. He’ll kill us—all of us—if we don’t pay. This is the only way to protect the family.”
My stepmother nodded, eyes solemn. “He won’t hurt you. It’s only temporary. We’ll bring you back once everything is settled.”
Temporary.
Like I was some object being loaned out. My nails dug hard into my palms.
“Please understand,” he continued. “This is the only way to protect this family.”
I looked between them—my father, the man who was supposed to protect me, and the woman standing beside him like a fragile saint.
Slowly, I nodded. “Okay then.”
Both of them froze.
“You understand?” my father asked.
“Yes.”
But inside my head, one thought screamed louder than everything else.
Run.
~~ NICCOLÒ~~My fingers tightened around the folder until the edges bit into my palm. The paper creased under the pressure, but I barely felt it.For a moment I just stood there, staring at the closed door.“I’d rather die than marry you.”She had no idea how dangerous those words were in my world. Most people who spoke to me like that didn't live long enough to regret it. Yet something about her defiance stuck to me.Before I could shove the thoughts aside, the door opened again with a soft click.“Boss.”Matteo stepped in, his expression grim as he closed the door with a quiet click I felt more than heard.I tossed the folder onto the table. The sharp slap cut through the room. “How the fuck did they find out about her?”Matteo shut the door fully. “There’s no way they should’ve known this fast. Not unless someone inside talked.”“Within,” I finished for him.He nodded once.I leaned back in the leather chair, forcing a slow breath through my nose. Control. Always control.Panic was
~~LENA~~My body moved before I could fully think it through. I pushed myself up from the bed, heart racing, every instinct screaming at me to stay put.But I didn’t.My hand hovered over the handle for a moment. This is a bad idea.Still, I turned it.The door opened just enough for me to slip into the hallway. The mansion felt different now—colder, heavier.I followed the sound, pulse quickening with every step.Then I saw it.A man was tied to a wooden chair in the center of the wide room, his head hanging limp, face a mess of bruises and dried blood. His breathing came in wet, ragged gasps.Niccolò stood in front of him, sleeves rolled up, expression calm in a way that didn’t match the violence.“Run again,” he said quietly. “Let’s see how far you get next time.”The man tried to speak, but the words came out broken.Niccolò tilted his head slightly, eyes narrowing like he was listening—or trying to.The man slowly raised his head. It was the second guy from the alley.Everything
~~LENA~~I was completely fucked.My hands shook as I pressed my back harder against the man behind me, my heart beating wildly.“Who… who are you?” I whispered, my voice barely holding together.A low, calm voice brushed against my ear, sending ice down my spine. “Someone who should never have been left waiting.”I froze. There was no threat in his tone, only control.“W-What do you want from me?”“I’ve already told your parents what I want.” He tilted his head slightly, his breath warm against my skin. “You. Whether you like it or not.”The irony wasn’t lost on me—not with the echo of the gunshot still ringing in my ears, blood spreading across the pavement, and him holding me like I belonged there.I took a small breath and tried to step away. For a second, he let me.Then—“You’re going with me.”I shook my head. “No.”His hand tightened.“I’m not going anywhere with you.”“You’re mine now.” His voice was calm, almost gentle, which somehow made it worse. “Your parents sold you to
~~NICCOLÒ~~This wasn’t how I usually handled business.My men were paid to fetch girls, clean up messes, and make problems disappear.Yet here I was, personally driving through these filthy streets because her useless father couldn’t keep what he had promised.The front door opened before I even knocked. Lena’s father rushed forward, forcing a nervous smile.“Mr. Santoro, welcome. Please, come in and—”“No.”He shut up instantly.“Where is she?”His wife appeared behind him, already pale. Their eyes darted to each other in a quick, terrified glance.“I’ll get her right away, sir,” she said and hurried upstairs.I stayed in the hallway, watching the father. His fingers twitched at his sides. His breathing came shallow and fast. Pathetic. The kind of man who sold his own daughter and still wanted the world to see him as some kind of hero.Upstairs, a door creaked.“Lena?” the stepmother called. “Lena, you’re needed downstairs!”Silence.Then her voice, sharp with panic: “What is this?
~~LENA~~“He’s coming today,” my stepmother said.I froze in the middle of the hallway, still wearing yesterday’s clothes. “What?”“Yes, Lena, you heard me right. He’s coming today.” She turned me toward my bedroom door. “So go get dressed. Something tight. Show your curves. Make sure he likes what he sees.”I spun back to face her. “Why do I need to look good for… him?”She rolled her eyes, already walking away. "Don't you want him to like you? We only get one chance to make a good impression, Lena. Don’t ruin this for us.”My chest thudded painfully as I shut the bedroom door behind me and leaned against it, trying to breathe. This couldn’t be happening. Last night I’d overheard my father quietly agreeing to something, a deal, a marriage, whatever it was but I never thought it would move this fast. Today? Now?I searched through my drawers, tossing clothes onto the bed—everything I could grab quickly.Then a screech of tires made my stomach drop.He’s already here? What is this, a s
~~LENA~~I knew something was wrong the moment I pushed the door open.“Lena!”My stepmother’s voice sliced through the silence from the kitchen.I dropped my bag near the door and walked in slowly. The acrid smell of burnt stew hung thick in the air.“I just got back,” I said carefully.She turned to face me, arms folded tight across her chest like she had been waiting for this fight all day.“And the chores I told you to finish this morning?”I paused. I had woken up early, cleaned the living room, washed the dishes, and swept the floor before leaving. So what exactly was she talking about?“I did them before I left.”Her eyes narrowed. “Are you calling me a liar?”“No. I’m just saying that I did them before I—”Before I could finish, her hand shot out, slapping me across the cheek. The sting made my head spin.She grabbed a fistful of my hair and yanked me toward the sink, slamming my face into the pile of wet dishes. Soapy water flooded my mouth and nose. I gasped and choked, lun







