MAFIA PROPERTY

𝐏𝐎𝐕 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐀Eighteen years old.For some people, this day is anticipated. For me, it has always been feared.Not because I believed something bad would suddenly happen, like an accident or an unexpected tragedy. My fear was never of the unexpected. It was certain. Of the constant feeling that this number didn’t mark a beginning, but a limit.I stared at the ceiling of my bedroom, motionless. Today was one of those days when everything felt heavier. Too many thoughts. Too much silence.I heard footsteps in the hallway and quickly got out of bed. It didn’t take long for the door to open slowly. I grabbed the robe hanging beside the bed and slipped it on in a hurry, covering my lingerie.“Miss Helena,” the housekeeper said in a restrained tone. “Your father wants to know why you haven’t come down for breakfast yet.”I frowned.My father had never cared whether I ate or not. He had never asked where I was. He had never waited for me.“He… asked?” I let slip.“Yes,” she replied, vi

𝐏𝐎𝐕 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐀I finished my shower, dried myself, and tied the robe around my body. I sat on the bed, trying to pretend that night didn’t exist. That it wasn’t about to happen.I wanted to disappear.The soft knock on the door made me hold my breath.“Come in,” I said, even though I knew my permission meant absolutely nothing in that house.The housekeeper entered carrying a large black box wrapped with a ribbon of the same color. She walked with her head lowered, avoiding my eyes. She placed the box on the bed with excessive care, as if it held something fragile.“It just arrived,” she said, adjusting her apron. “A gift.”My stomach twisted.“A gift from whom?” I asked, even though I already knew the answer.She hesitated for a second.“From your future husband.”The word husband hit me like a blunt punch to the stomach.Without waiting for permission, she opened the box.Inside was a dress and a pair of high-heeled sandals.Black.Not an elegant black. Not discreet. It was hea

𝐏𝐎𝐕 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐀I woke up with my body heavy, as if I hadn’t slept at all the night before. The side of my face where my father had struck me still burned faintly—a persistent reminder of what had happened.I opened my eyes and stared at the ceiling for a few seconds. I took a deep breath, trying to pinpoint the exact moment my life had stopped being mine for good.A knock sounded at the door.“Miss Helena,” the housekeeper’s voice came low and restrained. “Breakfast is served.”I sighed.“I’ll be there.”She didn’t come in, and I silently thanked her for that. I needed a few more seconds alone, in the silence of my room.I got up slowly and went to the bathroom for my morning routine. When I looked at myself in the mirror, my eyes stung. There was a faint mark on my face—nothing obvious. My father had always known how to hit where it wouldn’t leave evidence.I ran my fingers over the reddish spot, remembering exactly why it was there.When I felt tears threatening, I shook my hea

𝐏𝐎𝐕 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐀The invitation arrived two days ago.Thick paper, elegant lettering, and an embossed seal. A traditional mafia charity event—one of those where no one goes to help but to see and be seen.No one asked if I wanted to go.No one asked if I was okay.They simply informed me that my presence was mandatory.“Many important names will be there,” my mother said as she adjusted a necklace around my neck.We never truly had a close relationship. But after my marriage was announced, she started trying. A belated closeness.Remorse, perhaps.I don’t know.And to me, it no longer made any difference.I took a deep breath, staring at my reflection in the mirror.The dress, of course, hadn’t been chosen by me. Black. Again. Too tight to be comfortable, outlining curves I would rather hide. Every detail seemed calculated to expose without appearing vulgar.When I finished getting ready, I looked at myself one last time and recognized the same feeling I’d had for days:I looked re

𝐏𝐎𝐕 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐀I woke up before the alarm went off.Actually, for yet another night, I hadn’t slept properly.The room was still dark, the curtains closed like always, but something felt different. It took me a few seconds to understand what it was. It wasn’t the silence—that had always been there. Likewise, it was the feeling that the space had shrunk overnight.I stayed lying there, staring at the ceiling, waiting for my body to react.It didn’t.My first instinct was to grab my phone.I reached toward the nightstand.It wasn’t there.I sat up abruptly, my heart racing. I looked around the room, realizing something was wrong. Not only that, but I got out of bed and checked the vanity, the armchair, and the purse I’d thrown on the floor the night before.Nothing.I frowned, confused.I didn’t use the device much. Furthermore, I didn’t have friends to chat with—I'd never had that privilege. But I liked listening to music or scrolling through the social media accounts I’d created