Sold To The Dying Mafia King

Elara’s POV

“ELARA!” my mother’s voice sounded through the thin walls of our tiny apartment. “Get down here!”

I closed my journal that was filled with neat rows of numbers and the things I wished to have. I took a breath and looked at my right side. My sister was still sleeping.

Mira, She was 10 years old, and too innocent for this world.

I brushed a strand of hair off her forehead. She didn’t even stir. She must’ve been exhausted from crying last night.

“Elara!!” Mom called out my name again. I was already tired from the pre-drama that was about to happen.

I wonder what she wanted from me now.

I pushed open my bedroom door and froze at the top of the stairs.

I saw two men standing in our living room.

I immediately recognized who they were debt collectors. They always wore black jackets and gold chains. That was like their symbol of recognition.

One turned when he heard the creak of my feet on the steps. His eyes slid over me slowly.

I swallowed hard and made my way down.

“Mama?” I whispered, moving to her side.

My mother’s mascara was smudged beneath her eyes. She was already crying. Her hands clutched stacks of paper bills, overdue notices, threats from the loan office.

“Two weeks past the deadline,” the taller man said, tapping his fingers on our table. “I’m sure you know we're not going to listen to you now.”

“We’ll pay,” my mother said desperately. “My husband”

“Your husband owes us 50 thousand that he doesn’t have,” the man cut in. “He ran away, and set up this…filthy place as collateral.”

My mother flinched, and my heart broke just a little.

I stepped forward before I could think. “A little more time is all we ask for,”

The man’s gaze dragged up my body again, slow enough to make my skin crawl.

“Time,” he murmured, leaning back. “Time doesn’t pay bills.” His eyes lingered on my body. “But she can.” He smiled and I moved back a bit.

“How old are you, little girl,” he asked me.

“Nineteen,” I said tightly.

He grinned, like that single word meant something to him.

I felt a shiver go down my spine.

“We’ll be back tonight to take her away,” he said.

I turned to Mom and she nodded frantically. The men left, and the door slammed hard enough to rattle the whole place.

“What did you do?” I asked her with confusion.

She didn’t answer.

“What. Did. You. Do you?”

She pressed her hands to her face, shaking. “It’s the only way, Elara. We… we don’t have anything left.”

My stomach twisted. “Mom. What did he mean by ‘take me away’?”

She finally looked up at me.

“They… wanted options.”

“Options?” My voice cracked. “Mom”

She grabbed me suddenly, gripping my shoulders hard.

“They asked for someone young and untouched. Someone who can sell high. I told them it would be you.”

My hands went cold.

The wooden stairs creaked slightly and I heard Mira footsteps run away into the room. She was listening, she had heard everything.

I tried to breathe but my chest wouldn’t expand. “You’re selling me?”

“You don’t understand!” Mom snapped. “We’ll be on the streets if we don’t pay that debt!”

“So your solution is to hand me over like an item?”

“It’s better than them taking the house!” she cried.

This was what it had always been like.

Me patching holes in a sinking ship.

I had tried my best to support my Mom after my Stepfather ran away. I even worked two jobs, three, sometimes and it still wasn't enough. I stopped college even to pay up the debts and this was how she chose to repay me.

“All this happening because of that coward of a husband.”

Mom spun around. “Don’t call him that. Victor is–”

“Gone,” I snapped. “He’s gone, Mom. He left you. He isn’t coming back for any reason, no matter how you try to convince yourself every night”

Without hesitation, a slap landed on my face.

SHE HIT ME!

“Dont disrespect him like that ever again, Elara,” she said firmly. “You don’t understand him like I do.”

I held my cheeks, staring at her. “ After he gambled away our money? After he put the HOUSE as collateral? After he left Mira? His only daughter?

Her face hardened. “That should not be your concern. Mira is not your sister. She’s my daughter.”

The words made my chest hurt immediately.

“She’s my family,” I said quietly.

“Well then if you don’t go, I’ll let them take Mira instead.”

“What?” I looked at her, shocked at her words.

“She’s valuable,” Mom said without shame. “More than you. But she wouldn’t last a day out there.”

She leaned closer.Her voice dropped.

“You want to protect her? Then make the smarter choice.”

“When did you become a monster?”

She wiped the tears off her face. “It’s survival, honey,”

I turned away before I did something unforgivable.

Back in the room, Mira’s eyes were full of fear.

“Elara… what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I whispered.

“It’s the debt, isn’t it?”

“Mira,” My voice broke.

I knelt in front of her.

“I’m going somewhere tonight,” I said softly. “And …you might not see me for a while.” I let the tears roll down my cheeks.

Her face crumpled. “No… no, I don’t want you to go.”

I pulled her into my arms. “It’s okay. I’ll come back. Think of it like… like a short trip. Just for a little while.”

She was crying now.

“Is Mom making you go?” she whispered.

“No.” I lied. “I’m doing this for both of us. I need you to be strong, okay? You’re a big girl now.”

She nodded, wiping her eyes.

“If anything strange happens while I'm away… lock yourself in the room,” I said firmly. “Don’t open the door for anyone. Not even Mom unless you have to. Be careful, watch her. Understand?”

She swallowed.

“I understand.”

I kissed her forehead gently.

“Good girl.”

I stood and walked back into the living room

Mom sat smoking, not even looking at me.

“I’ll go,” I said.

She exhaled smoke, unfazed. “Wear something decent.”

*******

A sleek black car waited outside, I saw the tall man from earlier in the car.

Mom sat in front, silent.

I sat alone in the back, trying not to think.

When we arrived at the building a huge mansion, nothing I'd ever seen before.

Inside, there were girls.

Dozens.

Some barely dressed, some crying, some looked numb.

I immediately wanted to run.

The man led Mom and I to a door and then suddenly stopped.

“Be a good girl, Elara,” Mom said, then turned and walked away with the man.

She left me.

Just… left? I forced myself to breathe.

I needed to be strong, for Mira.

Two women came up to me immediately and dragged me into the room. They ripped my dress off.

“Stop!” I tried to cover myself, but they grabbed my arms.

“You better behave!” one said.

The other one dumped a bucket of freezing water over me.

I gasped, shivering violently.

“Rip off the dress….more,” someone muttered. “She needs to look helpless.”

Helpless. That was what I was now?

Once they were done, they shoved me in a row with other girls, and then we walked one by one onto a platform behind a curtain.

I was handed a silver bracelet with a number etched onto it.

#29.

A woman shoved me toward a curtain. “When your number is called, walk out.”

My legs shook.

I heard bidding already happening on the stage:

I felt cold and sick.

Then

“Lot Twenty-Nine!”

It was my turn? I walked out slowly and a spotlight hit me.

“Mm, fresh.”

“She’s pretty.”

“Look at her body.”

My heart was beating fast.

“Let the bidding begin at one hundred thousand,” the auctioneer announced.

“One-twenty!”

“One-fifty!”

A deeper voice called out, bored, “Two hundred.”

Someone scoffed. “Two-fifty.”

“Three hundred!”

“Three-twenty!”

“Four hundred!”

The auctioneer grinned. “We have four hundred”

There was silence in the room, then a voice from the back, low and calm:

“Five hundred.”

Everyone turned.

A man in a dark suit leaned back in his chair, hands clasped lazily. His face was quite unreadable.

I’d never seen him before. But everyone else seemed to know him because they whispered instantly.

Another man spoke up. “Five-thirty!”

The man in the back didn’t even look up.

“One million.”

The room gasped.

My knees nearly buckled.

The other bidders lowered their paddles quickly.

The auctioneer swallowed hard. “S-Sold. Lot Twenty-Nine goes to… Mr Dante Caruso.”

My heart stopped for a moment.

D-Dante Caruso?