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Aria’s POV

“Move!”

“Walk faster!”

One of the men barked the orders behind me.

I looked down at my torn boho skirt. It barely covered my thighs. My top was worse; transparent, clinging to my skin, soaked with sweat and tears. My nipples showed clearly through the thin fabric, and I hated that I couldn’t hide them.

We reached the huge iron gates.

The last time I walked through these gates, I was with my father. Free. Safe and proud with my heads high.

That day, I had followed him here while he submitted his daily financial reports to the cartel. I remembered holding his hand, feeling important, feeling protected.

Now, I walked through the same gates in chains.

No longer free.

The hallway was long and cold. My bare feet pressed against the marble floor  as I counted my breaths, trying not to break. Then another shout came.

“Walk faster!”

The fat man snarled again. “Don Cortez hates to be delayed.”

My chest tightened.

The fat man stopped a woman ahead of us, short, stout, with kind eyes worn down by years of silence. She wore a simple uniform. I knew instantly she was the housekeeper.

They spoke in low voices, but I heard everything.

Living with my father had given me that gift to have sharp ears, a careful mind.

“Where is the Don?” the man asked.

“At the private strip club with Carmen,” the woman replied. “He said you should bring the girl there once you arrive.”

My stomach dropped.

We turned toward the parking lot and he shoved me into a car. The road was unfamiliar. Long. Dark. My heart beat louder with every mile we passed.

Then we arrived at the strip club.

Red and blue lights flickered outside the strip club. The smell of expensive drinks, strong perfumes and smoke filled the air. Loud music pounded through my skull. Men with tattoos sat everywhere, naked girls draped over them like decorations. I knew instantly these were the dangerous mafia men.

Just then I saw a girl in one corner of the room with a man.  She looked about my age and she was being groped by a man covered in ugly ink. He squeezed her breasts and slapped her bare ass while she forced a smile.

My body shook.

This is my life now, I thought.

The man who brought me scanned the room. The Don wasn’t there.

He walked up to a scarred man near the bar.

“Where is Don Cortez?”

“He got an urgent call from the port,” the man replied. “He’ll be back soon.”

“We’ll wait.”

The man signaled for me to sit.

My chains were removed by him. My wrists burned as the metal slipped off. I barely sat down before a fierce voice cut through the noise.

“You! Come here!”

I froze, pretending it wasn’t me.

“Are you deaf?” he thundered. “I said come here!”

I turned slowly.

“Aren’t you Aria?” he sneered. “Simone’s little cunt. The slave meant for the Cortez house.”

His eyes dropped to my chest.

“Come here, you little slut.”

I didn’t know who he was. When my father was alive, we only met the late Don at the mansion. I knew he had children, a son and a daughter  but they lived in the States since they were young. I had never seen them.

This man looked too old to be the new Don.

I stood up, covering my chest with my hands, and walked toward him.

“Slut,” he muttered.

He waved the girls at his feet away. They scattered in fear.

Something twisted inside me, the feeling of fear mixed with the deep terror of bondage.

“Do you know what we do to slaves like you here?” he whispered, leaning close. His breath reeked of alcohol and cigarettes. “ Every day, we bring you here in chains, spread your legs, chain you down, and let strong men take turns on you until you forget your own name.”

“I bet this will be a great scene in hell. Your father will enjoy the scene”

He laughed wickedly then spat near my feet.

“Remove your hands.”

I obeyed.

Tears streamed down my face. My body trembled violently as my worst fears closed in around me.

He grabbed my arm and raised it high.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he announced, “this little slut is the daughter of the traitor who betrayed our former Don.”

Shouts erupted.

“Kill her!”

“No, fuck her!”

“Make her scream!”

“Suck her clits till she runs out of juice”

My heart pounded so hard I thought I would collapse. I couldn’t understand how humans could say such things like they had no wives or female children at home.

He silenced them with one hand and tightened his grip on my throat.

“I’ll enjoy her until she can’t feel her legs anymore.”

He laughed.

His hand squeezed harder. I choked, struggling for air as he lifted me by my neck. My nails clawed at his arms, but he only laughed louder.

“I love stubborn sluts,” he growled. “It makes me hard.”

And all of a sudden, from the far end of the room, a voice cut through the chaos.

Strong. Deep. Deadly. Dangerous.

“Put her down!.”

The entire room froze and fell silent.

The fat man who had brought me, upon hearing the voice, ran out of the inner room, zipping his trousers in the process.

“Simone’s daughter belongs to me,” the voice continued. “No one touches what is mine.”

Silence engulfed the club again.

The man holding me dropped me instantly.

I turned around to see who it was and I gasped.

My eyes widened in shock as the recognition of who it was hit me. 

I froze.

It was him.