THE DONS' VIRGIN

LIA

I never thought betrayal could feel like a hand on my back. But tonight, my stepmother’s hand is there, shoving me forward, pushing me into the fire.

The silk dress she forced me into clings too tightly to my skin. My feet wobble on the heels she threw at me like shackles. The closer we get, the heavier the air becomes. I can smell smoke, whiskey, and the sickly sweet scent of expensive perfume. When the heavy doors open, the world tilts.

Men. Dozens of them. Their suits sharp, their gazes sharper. Laughter and murmurs die the second I step in. Every eye turns to me, stripping me bare under the golden chandelier light. My throat closes, and I feel like a rabbit dropped into a den of wolves.

My stepmother’s voice is syrupy, poisonous. “Gentlemen, tonight’s prize is rare. Untouched. Pure. Worth every cent you’ve brought.”

Her nails dig into my arm as she forces me forward. My knees knock together. My palms sweat. And then the truth sinks in—this isn’t a party. This is an auction. My auction.

My chest burns, and I want to scream, but her grip tightens like iron. I know the punishment waiting if I make a scene. So I stand there, trembling, while my stepmother smiles wide enough to split her painted face.

“The bidding starts at one million,” she announces.

One million. My stomach twists. I hear the first shout, then another. Two. Three. Five. The numbers climb, each word another nail hammering into my coffin. The men grin and laugh, calling out like I’m nothing more than a painting to hang on their walls. Then the air shifts.

“Ten million.”

The voice is smooth, cold, dangerous. It cuts through the noise like steel. Heads turn, whispers spark. My heart stutters. I force myself to look at the man who spoke. He sits with perfect stillness, his black suit tailored like a second skin, his dark hair slicked back, his eyes like frozen stone. He doesn’t look at anyone else—only at me.

Salve.

The name runs through the crowd like smoke. I’ve heard it before, in whispers. Don Salve. A man who rules his empire with silence and fear. But before the crowd can recover, another voice slices through the room.

“Twenty.”

This one is louder, rougher. A growl more than a bid. My gaze jerks toward the sound.

He’s leaning forward, elbows on his knees, tie loose around his throat, dark eyes burning like coals. He doesn’t hide the hunger on his face. His knuckles are scarred, his mouth curved in something between a smirk and a snarl.

Dimitri.

If Salve is ice, Dimitri is fire. Where one looks like a man carved from stone, the other looks like a storm barely contained in human form. His reputation is worse. Savage. Unpredictable. A man who doesn’t buy loyalty but rips it out of people’s throats.

And both of them are staring at me.

The room buzzes with disbelief. No one else dares to join the bidding now. Not when two kings of blood are circling the same prey.

“Fifty million,” Salve says softly, almost bored.

“One hundred.” Dimitri spits the words like a challenge.

Gasps ripple through the men around us. My breath catches in my throat. One hundred million. For me. Not as a person—just as flesh, as property.

Salve doesn’t flinch. His voice is calm, measured. “Two hundred.”

Dimitri’s glass shatters against the table as he slams it down. “Five hundred. Final.”

The crowd erupts in whispers. Even my stepmother’s greedy smile falters for a second before stretching wider than ever. Half a billion. She’ll bathe in it. She’ll laugh in my face tomorrow. But Salve leans back, his fingers steepled, his expression as sharp and cold as a blade.

“Half a billion means nothing,” he says softly. “Because she isn’t yours, Dimitri. She’ll never be yours.”

The air is thick, crackling like a storm about to break. Dimitri’s body coils like a spring, his jaw tight, his fists clenched. For a moment, I swear he’ll draw his gun and paint the walls red with Salve’s blood. But then Dimitri smiles. 

“Fine,” he growls. “But don’t think for a second she’ll come crawling to your cold hands when she’s already burned by my fire.” And just like that, it’s over.

Gasps echo. The men around us can’t believe it. Salve and Dimitri—sworn enemies, rivals who would rather tear the city apart than share it—have agreed. They will share me. The auction ends. My stepmother’s laughter rings in my ears. She won. She sold me for more than she ever dreamed. But I lost.

I don’t even feel like I’m breathing anymore. My body is numb, my heart thundering so hard I can’t hear the rest of the room. Salve rises first. He moves with deliberate calm, every step measured, his presence suffocating without a single touch. His shadow stretches over me, swallowing me whole. Then Dimitri stands.The kind of presence that doesn’t ask for space—it takes it. His eyes rake over me like claws, and I feel stripped, claimed, ruined without him even laying a hand on me.

Between them, I am nothing more than a lamb walking into two wolves’ den.

“You’ll walk,” Salve murmurs, his voice smooth as silk. “You’ll obey,” Dimitri adds, his tone rough, merciless.

My legs move before I can think. What choice do I have?

The crowd parts for them like water, whispering, watching, some terrified, some envious. I feel their stares burn into me as I’m led out, one man on either side, like chains of fire and ice binding me. Every step feels like walking deeper into hell. My chest aches, my throat burns. I want to scream, to beg, to claw my way out—but I know the truth already.

Even if I ran tonight, even if I tore these heels from my feet and sprinted until my lungs collapsed, they would find me. Because this isn’t about money anymore. This is about obsession.

The night air outside is cold against my damp skin, but it doesn’t clear the fog in my head. Two black cars wait at the curb, sleek and waiting like predators.They don’t argue over who takes me. They don’t fight in the open. Instead, they open the same door. The same car. I climb in because I have no choice, my pulse racing, my body trembling.

The door shuts. The car moves.

Dark velvet seats press against my back, but there’s no comfort here. The space between them is small, and I am trapped in it. Salve’s cold eyes flick toward me. His voice is low, precise. “She’ll learn obedience.”

Their words sink into me,I press my hands into my lap, trying to stop the trembling, but it’s useless. The truth has already wrapped around me like chains. I am not leaving their world alive. And the worst part?