Masuk
ELEANOR
"Fuck! Eleanor we have to go!" Lucy yelled as they were just about starting. "Let's go please, we can't let that pig Mr. Paulo meet us here." I certainly did not want Mr. Paulo to meet me still in the backroom trying to get my makeup properly done. Both I and the rest of the other girls were to be put on sale tonight. Yes, on sale. I was dressed in a short black body con dress going way above my knees, almost revealing my entire thighs as a means to entice whoever would buy me tonight. I hated wearing these revealing outfits but I had to bring myself to put them on because that was what Mr. Paulo ordered. Some of the other girls had put on dresses even shorter than mine so it seemed I turned out a bit lucky in getting the one I was given to wear. We all lined up to be addressed by Mr. Paulo, the fat and immensely greedy man who ran this empire. "Ascoltare girls, it is yet another time to go and make yourselves some money and make me even a lot more," a filthy smirk stirred up from his once rigid face as his eyes assessed us all, taking delight in seeing the dresses he had us wear. Surely they were going to attract the number of uncultured and ill-mannered lot that sat at the auction room waiting for us to be revealed. This was not the life I had dreamt of living—being sold to horny lot of men for money, but my life took to a deadly turn of events. Our family was doing well until my dad lost his job and my mother left us right after. We managed to feed because I dropped out of school, almost emptied my savings and worked several jobs in order to assist paying the bills and keeping us afloat, but my dad gave up like a coward and mysteriously ran away as well. Our lives only became worse from there. My sister fell sick and was diagnosed with cancer and that was when it all came crashing down. I emptied my savings trying to keep up with her medications but it wasn't too long before I had nothing left and the jobs I worked were no longer meeting up with life's demands. I began searching for alternative jobs and soon I found out about a man named Paulo who was rumoured to help girls my age by giving them jobs. I went ahead to try my luck hoping I could get him to give me a job as well but I never thought it would turn out to be something this repulsive. I wanted to decline the offer and search for something else but when I got my first payment upfront, I knew I had to stay if I wanted my little sister to remain alive. The hallroom had a warm and inviting elegance that matched the distinguished crowd gathered inside as softly glowing candles placed in polished candelabras filled the room with a pleasant fragrance. The deep red table linens added a touch of richness, complementing the overall setting. There was something almost magnetic about the atmosphere—a quiet but unmistakable energy that you could feel as soon as you walked in. It was the kind of room where you knew something important was about to happen. "Benvenuti, stimati signori! The time we have all been waiting for has finally arrived. But firstly, some entertainment before our girls, and your possible properties for this year are unveiled!" Mr. Paulo addressed, signifying the start of the evening. The auction kicked off with a bunch of ballerinas dressed in what seemed like swimsuits—the kind of entertainment deemed appropriate for the fancy events of the millionaires and few billionaires present, and shortly after, the auction began. It finally dawned on me when it got to my turn to be sold what path I was about to go take just to ensure my little sister Matilda did not die of cancer. "7 million!" One of the men yelled out with pride. "Anyone else willing to take it higher?" The chairman asked, hoping for someone to pay for me with a higher price. It's an auction so the highest bidder takes the win. My heart raced as I could hear different dogs for men take the prices higher and higher to acquire me as their property. Each time someone took the price higher, my heart would almost drop into my stomach as anxiety filled me up. Who was going to be my master? I had heard different stories from some of my colleagues about the type of men that came here—especially how they treated them like objects for sex and nothing else. We were told we'd be sold for maids but there was more to it than that and I found out more as I hung around till I was 'ready for the business' according to Mr. Paulo. Lucy was the only one amongst all the other ladies that I could call a friend because we saw eye to eye and had a similar kind of background—she was also the bread winner of her family as well. The rest of the other ladies were just in it for the money. I knew this because they often spoke on how easily they'd open up their gateways for their owners, and I was filled with utter disgust each time I heard them discuss such topic. They were so shameless, ugh! "19 million!" another one gloated. They sure had money to spend on drugs, alcohol and women than help the poor on the streets. These variety of men seemed ruthless and the kind of men that wouldn't really care. "19 million!" the chairman echoed back. "19 million, anyone that can match up with that? Going, going, go—" "FIFTY MILLION!" A voice yelled and swallowed the entire ruckus in the room leading to absolute silence. My heart really did drop way into my stomach this time around. Who in the world would pay a whooping fifty million dollars to buy me? I just couldn't believe it. "Fifty million dollars," he repeated even more confidently this time, lifting his bidding card up like he owned the very room we were all in. From the stage where I stood, I could see that he seemed taller than everyone else in the room. His tuxedo which was well fitted, gave a magnificent show of the huge bag of muscles he had. But as for his eyes, he had the kind of eyes that showed he was no ordinary man and certainly none to be messed with. This sent my heart beat plummetting down into my stomach. "Sold!" The chairman said as he banged his gavel on the table. That was it. Certainly no one was willing to go higher. "Congratulations Mr. Armando, the papers for closing the deal would be brought to you soon." "Mr. Armando," I whispered to myself in overwhelming fear. Who was he? And why would he pay such an amount to buy me? I could tell from the way he looked at me before he left the room that he didn't even seem to like me at all. I bowed my head, trying to hide my nervousness as my feet couldn't even hold on to the ground anymore. The silence in the room was broken as everyone in the room shortly paired themselves to discuss who was being bought for a whooping fifty million dollars—me. The whole room became filled with the chattering from different tables while the other girls stared at me in awe like I had just won a lottery, but I certainly didn't like where I already saw my life going in the hands of a man like that.ELEANOR ~•~ They found Mr. Paulo three weeks later, in a port town two countries over, sitting on a pile of money he thought made him untouchable. I asked to be there when they took him. Armando didn’t want me to come, and we had our first real fight about it, the kind two people have when they’ve stopped being owner and property and started standing on level ground. I won it the same way I’d won every argument with him since the auction. I didn’t beg. I just didn’t back down. So I was standing in the room when they brought Mr. Paulo in. He looked smaller than I remembered. That was the first thing. In my memory he filled whole rooms, the fat greedy king of that auction floor, the man who decided whether my sister lived by how high the bidding climbed. Now he was just a sweating man in a chair with two of Armando’s people behind him, his eyes darting around the room for the most powerful person to bargain with, the way men like him always do. His gaze passed over me twice b
ARMANDO~•~Eleanor didn’t come back to me for four days.She stayed at the doctor’s place those first nights, sleeping in a chair by the kid’s bed, and when Matilda was stable enough that the staff finally sent her home to rest, she came back to the mansion, went straight up to her room, and shut the door. She wasn’t avoiding me, exactly. She’d nod at me in a hallway. She just had nothing she was ready to say, and I’d learned by now not to chase her for it.So I waited. Me. Waiting. Matteo would’ve found that funny.I spent those four days doing the things a man does after a war. Counting what was left. Burying what wasn’t. Sitting alone in the study with the chair I still hadn’t moved.On the fourth morning Dante came down with his bag packed.He set it by the door the same way he’d brought it in. One bag, no ceremony. He found me at the window, where I did most of my standing around these days.“Rafael wants me back,” he said. “And the job’s done. Salvatore’s in the ground, the kid
ELEANOR~•~The next few hours came to me in pieces.I remember Armando carrying Matilda out across the courtyard himself, not handing her to one of his men, carrying her against his chest with her head tucked under his chin and his coat wrapped around her, stepping over bodies like they were furniture. I remember the car. I remember Dante driving fast enough that the world smeared past the windows, and nobody telling him to slow down. I remember holding my sister’s hand in the back seat and counting her breaths out loud, because it felt like if I counted them they couldn’t stop.I don’t remember the drive ending. One second we were moving and the next there were doors and lights and people in scrubs, and a gray-haired man with tired eyes was already waiting on the steps like he’d been standing there an hour.“Don Armando,” he said, and then his eyes went to the bundle in Armando’s arms and everything else dropped off his face. “This is the child. The one from before.”“This is her.”
ARMANDO~•~“Choose,” Salvatore said.I’d walked into a lot of rooms in my life knowing the math was bad. This was the worst of them. Salvatore with a gun dead center on Eleanor’s chest. Two of his men against the far wall with theirs leveled on me. The sick kid slumped on the cot behind her sister. And me alone in the doorway with one weapon and a count that didn’t add up no matter how I ran it.So I didn’t run it. I’d learned that much from Dante in three days. You don’t win the room you’re standing in. You win the room the other man thinks he’s standing in.“You’re quiet, Armando.” Salvatore was enjoying himself. The gun didn’t drift off Eleanor an inch. “That’s not like you. The Armando I hear about would’ve done something loud and stupid by now. But look at you. Standing in a doorway doing arithmetic. You know why?” He smiled. “Because of her. One girl off an auction block and she’s turned you into a man who hesitates. You should thank me. A weakness you don’t know about is the o
ELEANOR~•~One second I had my hand on Armando’s sleeve and the next the whole world went white and loud and I lost him.I don’t know how. A man came at us from the side and Armando turned to put him down, and the crowd of it, the light and the noise and the bodies, just swallowed the space between us. I reached for where he’d been and my hand closed on nothing.I should’ve stayed put. I knew that even while I was moving. But the gate man had said east hall, and east hall meant Matilda, and three weeks of not knowing whether my sister was alive had stripped the careful part of me right out of my body. I ran low along the inside wall, away from the worst of the shooting, toward a doorway with a dim light burning over it.The speakers crackled above me.“Eleanor.” Salvatore’s voice, slow and warm, sliding over the whole compound. “There you are. Come in, bella. Come in out of the cold.”He could see me somehow, and he was letting me come, and that should’ve frozen me where I stood. It
ARMANDO~•~Eleanor walked up to the gate alone and I hated every step of it.That was the plan. She walks, they watch, the gate opens for the prize Salvatore had been waiting on, and I come through two steps behind her in the dark with Marco while Dante took the back with the others. Two ways in. One girl to grab. Everybody out before Salvatore worked out he’d been played.It looked good on Dante’s map. On that map everything looked good.But this wasn’t the map. This was Eleanor in a thin coat crossing forty feet of open gravel toward a man who’d already used her once, and me crouched in the tree line with my pulse going hard, telling myself she was bait and not letting myself finish the thought about what bait is actually for.A floodlight snapped on and caught her. She froze in it. I watched her shoulders climb up toward her ears and then come down again, slow, like she was forcing herself steady.“Eleanor.” A voice from the gatehouse. One of Salvatore’s men, not the man himself.
ELEANORThe night had been going smoothly, and to my surprise, I was actually starting to feel a little comfortable. The room was luxurious in a way that made you forget where you came from—the cool air, the fine tablecloths, the vibrant colors, and the guests who looked like they had never worked a
ELEANORArmando dragged me out of the car, gripping my wrist so tightly I thought my bones would snap. The pain shot up my arm, but I was too exhausted to fight back. My ankle throbbed, my wrists burned from the ropes, and every part of me ached from the blows I had taken. I tried to pull away, but i
ELEANOR There I was outside Armando’s door, my hand hovering just an inch away from knocking. My heart was racing, my body heavy with exhaustion. A deep breath filled my lungs as I tried to brace myself for whatever awaited me on the other side. I didn’t want to be here. Every part of me screamed to
ELEANOR I dragged myself across Armando’s room, forcing my body to move as I wiped down the already spotless floor. My arms felt heavy, my back ached, and my mind… my mind was drowning in a sea of thoughts. I couldn’t focus on the exhausting task in front of me. The more I tried, the more my mind wa







