Isadora
"One night with me would change your life."
My stepbrother's rancid, alcohol breath wafted over my face, and the look in his eyes made me shudder with revulsion.
"Get away from me," I cried, trying to push him off, but he weighed twice my weight not to mention that he got aggressively strong when he was drunk.
"Don't be a goody two shoes," his hand reached out and began to creep up my thighs, "Aren't you tired of living like a pathetic slave? If you submit to me, you could_"
His words ended with a howl of pain as I raised my knee and connected it sharply with his groin. Georgio staggered back, screaming like a little girl, his green eyes filling with tears.
"You bitch!" He roared.
"One of us is screaming like a bitch right now, and it isn't me," I spat.
Just as I made to turn around and flee as fast as I could, his hand shot out and grabbed the loose material of my dress, yanking me backward. I let out a pained cry as I was flung into the wall, my head knocking into the concrete.
"I'm going to kill you today," he roared, stomping toward me.
Just as he raised his beefy hand in the air, my stepmother's voice rang out around the room, "Georgio, stop that at once!"
My head shot up to see Giuliana Marino gliding into the room. Once upon a time, she had been married to my father, but it had only taken her three days after his death to announce her engagement to Uncle Franklin.
"You don't know what she did," he snapped, "She tried to kill me."
I swallowed back my protest, knowing that it wouldn't do me any good. My stepmother would never pick my side over her precious son's.
"Get up," she ordered, staring down at me with hatred.
I climbed to my feet, my gaze fixed to the floor to hide the fury burning in my gaze. Three more days until I could make my escape from this living hell, and I'd never have to see the Marinos ever again in my life.
My freedom was a piece of paper lying under the loose floorboards in my attic bedroom. And in just three days, the scholarship money would be paid into the secret account I had created a few months ago.
Freedom was just an inch away from me and I could almost touch it.
Next thing I felt was a burning sting against the side of my face, followed by a ringing in my ears.
"Insolent brat," she said, "You think you can touch my son and get away with it? I would have killed you with my own bare hands a long time ago if I could."
Tears beaded my eyes, but I blinked them back, refusing to show any ounce of weakness to them, "He tried to_"
"Shut up!" She barked, cutting me off, "You should be grateful that he even showed interest in a useless thing like you. Georgio has hundreds of women throwing themselves at him everyday, and you think you're too good for him?"
My gaze shifted to the fat, red faced young man staring at me smugly from behind his mother. He was taller than my five feet four with only a few inches, and the first thing you noticed when you looked at him was the rolls of fat around his torso. My stepbrother looked like a worm, and only a girl with no sense of smell, sight and sound could ever consider him.
"I've been waiting for the day when I could finally get rid of you for good," she continued, eyes narrowing, "And it seems that day has arrived."
My eyes went wide, shock rocking through me, "Wh-what do you mean by that?"
Her painted red lips curled up at one corner in a smug smirk, "Oh haven't you heard?" She chuckled, "We've finally found someone that's desperate enough to buy you off our hands."
My fingers curled into fists, "I'm not cattle. You can't just sell me!"
Giuliana's smile only widened, "On the contrary, I can do whatever I want with you. You think you are a human with human rights? Well, you're wrong. You're nothing but a piece of property, to be used, bought and sold as one sees fit."
I couldn't believe what I was hearing, "How much did you buy me for? I'll pay everything back."
This time around, her useless son joined in her laughter. The sound caused something inside of me to clench with distaste.
"I hope that was a joke," she finally said, "even if you spend your whole life working from sun up to sun down, you would never be able to pay back eight million dollars."
The sum made me stagger back unexpectedly and I gaped at her in disbelief, "You're lying," I hissed.
Her mouth curled up into a sneer and I knew what was coming even before the slap landed on my other cheek, harder and more brutal than the previous one.
"Watch your mouth, rat," My stepmother snarled, "Who are you calling a liar? You think I would ever waste my time fabricating stories for you?"
"I-I_" my words trailed off as I stared at them helplessly.
"Tomorrow, your new owner will come to take you away, and you can spend the rest of your short, pathetic life spreading your legs for that monster."
I gulped, "Who?"
"Dimitri Romanov," she informed me.
All the blood in my head drained away, leaving me feeling dizzy and sick. No. It was impossible. How could they sell me to the most dangerous Russian Don?
"I'm not going to marry that heartless beast!" I screamed, "I don't care how much he paid for me. Marrying that man is a suicide mission. I won't do it."
I was expecting another slap, what I didn't expect was for my stepmother to smirk at me and then hold out a piece of paper between us.
"Do you think you have a choice because of this?" She asked coldly.
I stared at my scholarship letter in her hands and felt my stomach sink.
Isadora“Back! Everyone back!”“Get her out of here—move!”There were screams. Glasses Shattered. Chairs scraping. Chaos.Ivan yanked me back. “Don’t look at it, Isadora—hey, look at me! look at me!”My eyes were locked on the cake. Or what was left of it. Diego’s head. His eyes open, the candle still flickering in his mouth like some sick joke.“Go! Now!” Rafael shouted, pushing through guests.“What the hell is going on?!” Viktor growled, grabbing my arm as Ivan pulled the other.“Clear the damn room!” Rafael barked. “Weapons out—secure the exits!”Guests were fleeing in all directions. Some screamed. Others cried.“Keep her between us,” Ivan said, his voice sharp. “No one gets close.”My heels scraped against the tiles as they dragged me. I felt nothing yet heard everything.“Isadora, come on, we have to go!” Viktor said, shaking me lightly. “Snap out of it!”We turned a corner. Mariana appeared, pale. “What the hell was that?!”“Stay with Rafael!” Ivan shouted.“No! I’m not leavin
Isadora“You’re stalling,” Mariana said sitting on the edge of the bed.“I’m taking it in” I replied, adjusting the thin strap of the black dress we'd finally settled on.“You’re glowing.”“I’m sweating.”She smirked. “Same thing.”I turned toward the mirror. The fabric hugged every inch, the slit high, the neckline criminal. “You sure this isn’t too much?”“For your birthday? It’s too little, honestly.”"Are you sure I look okay?" I asked, anxious."You look beautiful, Isa."A knock sounded. Mariana pouted. “That better be Ivan seeing the light.”I opened the door.Ivan stood there in a black suit, shirt unbuttoned, hair slicked back. Handsome more than enough to be illegal. His eyes landed on me, and stayed there.He blinked. “Damn.”I raised an eyebrow. “That your version of a compliment?”“No,” he said, his voice lower. “That’s me trying not to lose it." He said, his eyes locked on me.Mariana cheesed. "As he should."I smirked. “Behave.”“Not a chance.”Another figure leaned agai
IsadoraBy the time we got back, the sun had gone down and the house was bustling with activities.I kicked off my heels and dropped the shopping bags on my bed, staring at them for a second.Mariana was wrong. I hated birthdays.An hour later, I pulled my robe tighter and moved toward the mirror, touching up my already styled hair.I was debating red lipstick, because apparently a stranger knew what was best for me, when the knock came.Soft. Hesitant. I opened the door halfway.Ivan stood there, leaning on the frame like he had nowhere better to be. His eyes landed on me. “Hey.”“Hey,” I said back, pulling the door open fully. “I wasn't expecting you.”“I know,” he said. “Figured I wouldn't have any other time besides now.”I stepped aside. “Come in.”He walked in slowly, glancing around. “Where’s Mariana?”“Downstairs. Talking Rafael’s ears off, probably.”“Poor guy.”I smiled faintly. “What’s up?”He turned to face me. “I just wanted a moment. Before everything starts.”I leaned a
Isadora“Okay, birthday girl. Don’t make me drag you.” Mariana nudged me with her elbow as I hesitated, standing in front of the entrance to the boutique.I rolled my eyes. “You already dragged me.”We'd left later for a boutiqueafter I had called her, and then a salon next, in preparation for the party ahead.She smirked. “You’re welcome.”“I said yes to dinner, not to being dressed like a barbie doll.”She gasped. “Excuse you, I pride myself in having an exquisite taste.”“That’s debatable.”Mariana snatched a dress off the rack and held it against me. “This. It’s giving cartel goddess.”“It’s giving too much skin.”“Perfect.”I stared at the fabric. “It’s see-through.”“Only in the right places,” she said, winking. “Try it on.”I groaned but grabbed it. “If I walk out looking a mess, I’m blaming you.”“You won't, trust me.”I changed and stepped out of the fitting room, crossing my arms as she turned and gasped.“I hate how good that looks on you.”“I feel naked.”“Hot naked.”“Is
Isadora "Uhh," I stuttered, taken unexpectedly. What the hell, Viktor.Ivan’s brows drew together. “It’s your birthday?”I cleared my throat, grabbing my coffee like it could hide me. “Yeah. I mean… technically.”“Technically?” Rafael repeated, a grin already forming.“I didn’t think it was a big deal.”"Wow," Ivan exclaimed, his eyes looking like he had been betrayed."It's really not a big deal, Ivan." I urged, trying to control the situation.Ivan turned toward me. "So you told Viktor but not me?”I blinked. “I didn’t tell Viktor.”Viktor shrugged, not looking even a little guilty. “You didn’t have to.”My eyes narrowed. “Wait— how did you even know?”He leaned back in his chair. “I listen when people talk. You mentioned it once, months ago.”Ivan frowned deeper. “Months ago?”Viktor nodded. “Yeah. During one of our 'personal' conversations. Said something about never really being celebrated on your birthdays so far and that you got used to not even mentioning it anymore. It stuck
“Are you seriously still in your pajamas?” Mariana asked, stepping into the kitchen the next morning, her hair messy and eyes half-sleepy.I poured coffee into two mugs. “It’s eight in the morning. What do you want from me?”She flopped into a chair beside the kitchen counter. “It’s giving spoiled cartel royalty. I like it. I thought you'd be all dressed in blazers and heels and all of that.”“You've clearly watched a lot of movies," I teased."Your life is basically a movie.""Okay now, you’re the guest here,” I said, sliding a mug toward her. “You don’t get to roast me.”“I slept on silk sheets last night, Isa. Roast me all you want, I died and went to luxury heaven.”I smirked. “Told you it wouldn’t be weird.”“I didn’t say it wasn’t weird. I said it was luxurious. Different things.”I sat across from her, yawning. “Well, thanks for coming.”Mariana stirred her coffee lazily. “You didn’t exactly sound like I could refuse.”“That's not true.”“It is. You called me like, ‘Come over.