Chapter Four: New-life


Locked in the luxurious mansion that has become my new prison, I find myself in a strange and unfamiliar world. The opulence that surrounds me is both captivating and suffocating. Everything is pristine, from the gleaming marble floors to the ornate furniture that seems more like a work of art than something to sit on.

My days are no longer filled with the hustle and bustle of the bar. Instead, I'm confined to the gilded cage of this mansion, my every move monitored by the strange man's watchful gaze. I'm not allowed to leave, and the thought of the outside world, with its fleeting moments of freedom, feels like a distant dream.

But as the days turn into weeks, I realize he has plans for me beyond being a mere possession. No one dares mention his name and since the auction night, I have never seen nor heard of him. It seems he wants to mold me into something more, something that fits into his world of power and privilege. And so, he hired a group of women, all Italian, to teach me the ways of their culture and lifestyle.

At first, I resisted. I have no desire to assimilate into this world of extravagance, to become a pawn in his game. But as I weigh my options, I begin to realize that I have no say in this. I need to understand my surroundings to survive. Perhaps, if I play my cards right if I prove myself to be a quick and obedient learner, he may see fit to release me. That night, I decide to do whatever it takes before I drift off into sleep.

The morning light creeps through the curtains, and I rise from the bed, knowing that another day in this luxurious yet stifling mansion awaits me. As I begin to get dressed, there's an authoritative knock on the door. An older woman, her demeanor stern and no-nonsense, enters the room. She carries a neatly folded outfit – a crisp white blouse and a black skirt that falls just below the knee.

"Buongiorno, Cara," she greets me with no smile, her Italian accent thick and far from soothing. "It's time to get you ready for your morning lessons."

I nod, understanding that there's no room for pleasantries in this world. The clothes she's brought are a far cry from the skimpy garments I wore during the auction, and I'm grateful for the chance to feel a bit more like myself.

With her stern guidance, I change into the outfit, feeling a sense of cleanliness and dignity that I've sorely missed. As I look at my reflection in the mirror, I can almost imagine that I'm not trapped in this luxurious prison.

The older woman, who introduces herself as Nonna, leads me downstairs to a spacious dining room. The long, polished wooden table is set with fine china and crystal glassware, a display of elegance that takes my breath away.

Nonna begins to teach me the art of serving a table in an Italian Mafia home, her instructions crisp and demanding. She leaves no room for error and emphasizes the importance of precision in every detail. From the way the napkins are folded to the arrangement of the silverware, every aspect must convey a sense of grace and sophistication.

I listen intently, keenly aware that any mistake will not be tolerated. There's no kindness in Nonna's eyes, only an expectation of excellence. Despite the circumstances that have brought me here, there's a small glimmer of hope in my heart. Perhaps, if I excel in these lessons, if I prove myself capable, I can earn a sliver of trust from the criminal. And with trust comes the possibility of freedom.

As I practice setting the table under Nonna's watchful and unforgiving eye, I can't help but wonder if there's more to this world than meets the eye. The elegance that surrounds me is a stark contrast to the cruelty I've witnessed, and I can't help but wonder what secrets this mansion holds. After what seems like hours of being taught where a knife and spoon should be it finally ends.

"Sit," she commands, her tone leaving no room for disobedience. 

I take a seat, and Nonna begins to pour tea for both of us.

"Today, we discuss your role in this household until Adrian decides otherwise," she says, her gaze fixed on me. 

Who is Adrian? But the look she gives me tells me to shut up and keep the questions to myself.

"As a woman in an Italian Mafia home, you must understand your place and your responsibilities," she continues.

I nod, eager to absorb any information that might help me navigate this unfamiliar world. So to be clear, I was bought to be a cute house girl? I wonder.

Nonna takes a sip of her tea before continuing. 

"First and foremost, you must learn to stay out of the men's conversations. When they speak, you listen, but you do not interrupt. Your presence should be like the air they breathe – necessary but unnoticed."

I raise an eyebrow, curious about the dynamics within this house. 

"What if I have something important to say?"

Nonna's lips curl into a humorless smile. 

"You won't. Your opinions and thoughts are of no consequence here. You exist to serve, to be seen but not heard. And most importantly, your job is to please your master."

Her words send a shiver down my spine, a stark reminder of my powerlessness in this world. Please? Does she mean, to have sex with him?

I lower my gaze, sipping my tea and nodding in understanding but giving no promises. Hell no… I’m not giving my first time to that beast… my heart jumps to my throat when a thought occurs to me… will he force me?

"Secondly," Nonna continues, "you must learn how Italian women behave. You are not to challenge the traditional roles and expectations. You are expected to be modest, obedient, and respectful."

I listen carefully, wondering how these expectations will affect my daily life. Why does it sound like I’m about to be a Mafia Lord’s trophy wife?

"Can you give me an example of how Italian women behave? Because clearly, I’m far from it." I say and instantly regret it. My mouth will get me killed one day. 

Nonna's eyes seem to bore into mine as she studies me. 

"Italian women prioritize family above all else. They take care of their homes, their children, and their husbands. They do not question their place in society. They find strength in their ability to support and nurture their loved ones," she responds. 

I absorb her words, realizing that adapting to this role will be challenging. 

"I understand, Nonna." I lie. That is the opposite of what I truly want to be. A housewife is a joke but they don’t need to know that now do they?

"Good," she says, her tone softening ever so slightly. "Remember, your survival here depends on your ability to blend in, to become a shadow in this world of power and influence."

“Got it. So where is the man who brought me here?’’ I ask… did he just buy me and dump me here to be his little whore?

“Do not speak of him, don’t think of him and most of all don't ask about him. Do you understand?’’

‘’I mean it a little-’’

‘’Have you learned nothing? You will get both of us killed. I have a family and he kills everyone you have ever met when you cross him so do what I tell you!’’ She scolds. 

“Trouble getting the new whore in line?’’ 

Just as I'm about to respond, a cold, blonde woman enters the room. Her presence alone seems to suck the air from the room, leaving an icy chill in its wake. She gazes at me with piercing blue eyes that hold a hint of cruelty.

"Ah, the new addition to our household," she sneers, her voice dripping with condescension. "I've heard about you. Here to pay your debt I presume?’’

Debt? The men I owe are nowhere this rich so what the hell is she talking about?

I can feel the weight of her scrutiny, and it sends a tremor of unease through me

"Nonna, I have a request," the woman continues, her tone making it clear that it's less of a request and more of an order.

"Of course, Signora. What would you like?" She responds with a hint of fear.

She turns her attention back to me. "I'd like this girl to serve my lunch today. Let's see if she's as capable. You can thank me later because if she messes up in front of Adrian there will be more bloodshed, don't you agree?"

My heart skips a beat. I've been diligent in my lessons, but the thought of being tested in front of this formidable woman fills me with anxiety. I swallow hard and nod, my voice barely above a whisper.

 "Yes, Ma’am."

As I begin to serve her lunch, I can feel her eyes on me, dissecting every move I make. The pressure is intense, and my hands tremble ever so slightly. In my nervousness, I mix up a couple of things, placing the fork on the wrong side of her plate.

She gives me a side eye which has an icy demeanor for a moment, and her anger boils over.

 "What kind of incompetence is this?" She hisses, her voice cutting through the room like a whip. "Is this the best you could find, Nonna?"

Nonna looks apologetic but doesn't say a word in my defense because we both know she didn’t bring me here and hell I don’t even know who brought me here.

“Are you deaf and dump or you’re just stupid?’’


Her anger seems to continue rising from the fact that no one responds but seeing how she has been I assume she has anger problems and answering will bite you back in the ass so we all keep quiet. She hates me so much I can see it from the way she looks at me. How do you hate someone you just met?

She picks up a glass of water and throws it on my face. It comes so suddenly that I don’t see it coming. Tears threaten to spill at this cruelty but I refuse to let her see me shaken. Can someone react this way over something as stupid as a fork and spoon?

She stands up and this time I’m pretty sure she will hit me. Nonna gives me a signal not to move. From the look on her face, if I do, worse things will happen so I stay put.

Just as she is about to lift her hands, the doors swing open, and the criminal as I like to call him strides in, his presence commanding immediate attention. Every time I see him he's the embodiment of power and authority, and everyone in the room, this time including Signora, seems to shrink in his presence.

His voice, when he finally speaks, is like a low, dangerous growl.

 "What's going on here?"

Signora, who had been berating me just moments ago, suddenly becomes deferential. 

"I was just testing the new girl's capabilities, Adrian. It seems she needs more training."

‘’And who gave you the right to train her? Fuck how the hell did you even get here?’’


Adrian's grey eyes lock onto mine, and I feel like a deer caught in the gaze of a predatory wolf. "You," he says, his voice cold as ice. "Come here."

I approach him, my heart pounding in my chest. He scrutinizes me for a long, agonizing moment, and I can feel the weight of his judgment bearing down on me.

"Mixing up the utensils is an amateur mistake, but that only applies to me because you are mine and you will only serve me!" he finally says, his tone devoid of emotion. "You are mine and you answer to no one else do you understand?!’’

What does he mean am his? And why does that bother me and not in a bad way?

Great Ella, your master is a criminal and you’re having dirty thoughts?

I nod, a sense of confusion washing over me but It's a start. He defended me so at least no one will bother me about lunch and shit.

Adrian turns to Signora.

 "You do not touch what is mine even when am dead. I will not say it a second time!"

With that, he pulls me by my hand and we exit the room, leaving behind a palpable tension. Once we are out of the dining he lets go of me without saying a word and leaves me by myself.

Is this man bipolar?

 I return to my room. It's been a tough day but I survived the afternoon I laugh to myself. What were Adrian’s actions all about anyway?

 As throw myself on the bed, the door bursts open and the sight before me makes my heart sink.

Related chapters

Latest chapter Protection Status