Sold to the Mafia king

Lina’s POV

“Don’t you fucking say that, Lina. You’re the one who always acts impulsive,” Ruciano snapped. “You nag about one thing or the other. What do you even gain from getting me this worked up, huh? Tell me.”

His voice sliced through the room, loud and sharp, leaving no space for anything else. He paced like a ticking bomb, hands running through his hair, acting like he wasn’t the problem—like I was the chaos in the story he created.

That broke something in me.

I opened my mouth to respond, but the words lodged themselves somewhere between my chest and throat. If I spoke now, the tears I was barely holding back would spill, and I refused—absolutely refused—to give him that satisfaction.

“Say something,” he pressed, stopping right in front of me. “You always have something to say.”

I inhaled slowly, forcing my hands to stay steady at my sides.

“What exactly do you want from me, Ruciano?” I asked, my voice low but firm. “Tell me. Because I’ve done everything. Everything. I’ve defended you, stayed quiet when I shouldn’t have, bent myself in ways I didn’t even recognize anymore.”

He scoffed. “Oh, here we go.”

“No,” I shot back. “Don’t dismiss me. Not this time.”

His jaw tightened.

“I won’t keep destroying myself just because I love you,” I continued. “I won’t kill myself trying to be the girlfriend you—”

The slap came out of nowhere.

His palm collided with my cheek, loud and sharp, the sound echoing in the room like something breaking apart. Pain exploded across my face, but the real damage was deeper—quieter.

I tasted blood.

For a second, neither of us moved. He stepped back immediately, breathing hard, eyes wide like he hadn’t expected himself to do that. Like it was an accident.

I laughed softly, the sound bitter and broken. “You hit me. Again.”

“Lina, I—"

“You hit me, yet again,” I repeated, my voice shaking now despite my effort. “And you want to talk about impulsive?”

He didn’t answer.

That silence was louder than the slap.

I turned and walked away before he could say anything else—before he could apologize, before he could justify it, before I could forgive him out of habit.

Why was I still in this relationship?

All I ever got were insults, outbursts, ungrateful remarks… and now this. It hadn’t always been like this. In the beginning, there were laughs, long calls, stupid plans about the future. Somewhere along the way, without warning, he changed. Completely.

And I stayed.

My chest burned as I walked farther, my vision blurring. Part of me hoped—stupidly—that he’d run after me. Call my name. Grab my hand. Do something.

He didn’t.

I couldn’t go home like this. Mom would see it immediately, and her worry would crush me even more. I stopped at the corner, breathing unevenly, stuck in a choice I didn’t ask for. I’d text her. Say I’d be working overnight. That was safer.

I wiped my face with my sleeve and reached for my phone when the air suddenly shifted. Colder. Heavier. Like the night itself had leaned closer.

Something was wrong.

I froze and slowly scanned the street.

That was when I saw them—three… maybe four men dressed in black, running after someone down the road. My breath hitched. I ducked behind a large tree as they tore past, boots pounding against the pavement.

My heart slammed against my ribs. When the street fell quiet again, curiosity tugged at me, sharp and dangerous. I took one step forward—then stopped.

“You have your own problems, Lina,” I whispered to myself.

My phone vibrated.

Ruciano.

I stared at his name glowing on the screen. My thumb hovered… then I locked the phone and shoved it back into my pocket.

I had nowhere else to go.

Cathy. She'll accommodate me for the night.

I rang her bell once. Then again. Nothing.

I turned to leave when the door suddenly burst open.

“Lina?” Cathy blinked at me. “What are you doing here so late?” Her eyes widened. “Oh my God—come in. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want to talk,” I said quickly. “Please. I just need to sleep.”

She nodded immediately, stepping aside without another word.

I collapsed onto her couch, exhaustion weighing down every thought. The room faded slowly, my mind drifting aimlessly until sleep finally dragged me under.

~~~

“You didn’t get back home last night, Lina,” Mom snapped the moment I finished explaining. “And now you’re standing here telling us you were fired?” Her voice rose with every word. “I am so sure this is because of that Ruciano boy. I warned you. I told you to leave him alone. He will be the end of you one day—mark my words.”

She didn’t wait for me to respond.

Her voice echoed against the walls as she stormed out of the living room, anger trailing behind her like smoke. The worst part was… she wasn’t wrong.

Everything that had gone wrong today—every single thing—had Ruciano’s shadow somewhere in it.

Dad remained by the doorway, silent, watching me the way people look at something they don’t know how to fix. He didn’t speak while Mom yelled, but just as he turned to leave, he stopped.

“Lina,” he said quietly.

I looked up. “When your mother said Ruciano was behind you losing your job—indirectly—you didn’t deny it.” His tone was calm, but it carried weight. “That tells me everything I need to know.”

I swallowed.

“That man has nothing good to offer you besides pain,” he continued. “Let this unhealthy relationship leave your life so you can grow—mentally, emotionally, in every way.” He paused. “Or else Ruciano truly might be the end of you.”

Disappointment cut deeper than anger ever could.

“Okay, Dad,” I whispered.

He shook his head once and walked away.

The silence he left behind felt heavier than the shouting.

I sank into it.

I knew I needed to leave Ruciano. I didn’t even understand why I was still holding on. All he had given me lately was chaos, bruised emotions, and constant fear. I loved him—God knows I did—but love wasn’t being returned anymore.

Not in any way that mattered.

I went upstairs, shut my bedroom door, dropped my bag on the floor, and collapsed onto the bed. The exhaustion from everything—the firing, the humiliation, the fighting—pressed against my chest until breathing felt like work.

Sleep was the only escape I could afford.

When I woke up, my vision was blurred, my head heavy. I blinked a few times, sitting up slowly as the world came back into focus. The light filtering through the window had softened into orange, the sun already dipping toward the horizon.

I exhaled.

I need to see Ruciano today.

I need to end this.

I freshened up, changed into a clean dress, and headed for the door. By the time I stepped outside, night had already settled in. Mom was in the kitchen making dinner. Tina and Romy were home from school, laughing about something.

No one noticed me leave.

I called Ruciano as I walked, telling him I’d be there in a few minutes. He was home. That was a relief—one less excuse, one less delay.

The night air felt wrong. Colder than usual. Still. Like something unseen was holding it in place.

I was halfway down the quiet street when a white van pulled up beside me.

Too fast.

Before I could react, the doors slid open.

Four men stepped out—black masks, dark clothes, movements sharp and coordinated. They surrounded me in seconds. One behind me. Two at my sides. One directly in front.

My heart slammed violently against my ribs.

I opened my mouth to scream—

Something pressed against my face from behind.

“No—”

The world tilted as I fought, fingers clawing at the arm around my shoulders, at the mask digging into my skin. My breath tangled, panic flooding every vein as I kicked, twisted, resisted—

A voice hissed close to my ear.

“You should have stayed back at home. Too late.”