Switched at the Mafia Auction

~ Avelyn ~

I’d gotten used to the cold. Not the kind that creeps through your skin, but the kind that settles into your bones. The kind that tells you, over and over, that this room? This life you desired. It was never meant for someone like you.

My room sat at the far end of the estate, past the servant quarters but still below the family wing, as if even the walls didn’t want to associate with me. It didn’t have a heater, and winter wasn’t polite. I wore two sweaters to sleep and pressed my feet against the base of the lamp just to feel something close to warmth.

So when the door slammed open without a single knock, I flinched.

The maid Marcie or Maisie or whatever stood there, arms folded, eyes rolling like I was the burden she had to carry through life.

“Your father wants you at dinner.”

I blinked. “He… what?”

She scoffed. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

And then she shut the door. Hard enough to rock the foundations of the basement.

I just stood there, confused. In all my years in this house, never once had I been asked to join them for dinner. Not birthdays, not holidays, never.

Was this real?

Maybe it was finally happening. Maybe, just maybe, my father, Miguel Elvan, CEO, king of appearances and master of disappointment was finally ready to acknowledge me. Even if just for one night.

I scrambled to my closet. Nothing fancy. I didn’t own fancy. I pulled out the least-wrinkled dress I had, twisted my silver-blonde hair into a loose braid, and checked the mirror.

Still looked like a ghost of the family name. But I had hope. God help me, I still had hope.

The dining hall was warm. Lit by a chandelier that probably cost more than my entire existence. My father, his wife Lilian, and their daughter Laura were already seated, glasses clinking, forks moving. No one looked up.

I hovered near the entrance. “Good evening—”

“What took you so long?” Miguel barked, not sparing me a glance.

I opened my mouth, then closed it. I’d literally ran. The maids must’ve delayed his message on purpose, again. I looked to one of them in the corner, and sure enough, there was that smug little smile.

I lowered my eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“Sit.”

I did. My hands were shaking under the table, but my heart was light. Maybe I’d eat with them. Maybe I’d be seen for the first time in my existence but Miguel didn’t even wait until I picked up my fork.

“We have a situation. A debt that needs to be paid.” He announced. I nodded slowly. “Okay…”

“You’ll help us, won’t you, Avelyn?” My heart jumped. He said my name. The second time. In ten years.

I straightened. “Yes. Of course…Father” a small smile leaked from my lips. He looked at me for the first time tonight. “Don’t call me that.”

“…Sorry.”

He exhaled like I’d ruined the air. “But if you do this for me, I’ll acknowledge you. Fully. As my daughter.”

I felt it again. That warm flicker of hope.

This was it. This was the moment I’d wanted since I was a kid, watching him walk past me without a glance. Since I was five and still thought if I cleaned well enough, behaved well enough, maybe he’d smile at me like he did with Laura.

“I’ll do anything,” I said quiet, but clear.

Miguel sipped his wine. “There’s a powerful man, he’s dangerous and owe him. He asked for my daughter… as payment.”

I blinked slowly. Laura kept eating like it didn’t concern her.

“You’ll take her place,” he said.

“What?”

“It’s just an auction. Nothing dramatic. You’ll be fine.” He cleared his throat and dug into his stake like he just uttered the most natural thing in the world.

“No. You said he asked for your daughter. I’m not even—”

“You ungrateful child!” He snapped, eyes darkening like a grey storm. Now, that’s the expression I’m used to, not the fake smiles.

“After everything I’ve done for you, you won’t lift a finger to help this family?”

I stared at him.

He never put me in the family register. Never gave me the name Elvan. Called me the help’s mistake behind closed doors. Told people I was a distant cousin’s child staying with them temporarily.

But now I was his daughter?

Now I was currency?

“I won’t go.”

His hand slammed the table so hard the glasses jumped.

“You forget your place!” He roared.

“No—I remember it too well.” I spat but he picked up a napkin and cleaned his mouth and stared me dead in the eyes as he muttered.

“The daughter of a whore.”

Lilian gasped like an excited two year old, her manicured hands flying over her mouth in style. Laura looked up for the first time, smirking like she’d been waiting her whole life to see me fall apart.

And I did.

But not the way they expected because…

I laughed.

A small, broken sound at first. Then bigger and wilder. I laughed because it was all a joke. A cruel, twisted joke. It had to be.

All these years, I held on. I cleaned floors they dirtied. Ate scraps off plates I wasn’t allowed to touch. Hid my bruises. Bit my tongue.

All for this?

To be sold?

“You don’t get to speak about my mother,” I said, standing. My chair scraped backward. My voice shook, but I didn’t.

Miguel’s face darkened. “She was a whore.”

“She was a maid,” I hissed. “One you drugged and forced. And you told the world she seduced you. You killed her. And now you’re going to sell me and pretend you’re the victim?”

His face twitched.

“She died with your shame rotting her soul. And you think I’ll let you do the same to me? Sell me like some bargaining chip?”

SLAP.

His hand cracked across my face before I saw it coming. I hit the ground hard but my body was numb to the pain.

My ears rang instead.

“You insolent girl,” he spat. “You’re nothing. You were never supposed to exist.”

Tears stung my eyes, but I didn’t cry. He stood over me. “Take her.”

Two guards stepped forward.

“No—please! Don’t—!”

“You owe me this,” he said coldly. “For the food in your mouth. For the roof over your bastard head.”

“You said when Kyle comes back for me, I’d be safe. You promised!”

He turned his back. “Promises mean nothing when you have no value.”

Tears streamed down my face, burning like acid

I looked at Lilian. Laura. Even the maids.

No one spoke. They watched me like I was a reality show and maybe I was. The bastard child whose mother died and had to call the people who despised her the most…family.

“I hate you,” I whispered. “I hate the blood you gave me!”

Miguel nodded and the guard behind me raised his hand. I felt a sharp pain of my neck and everything went black.