The Untamed Alpha King and His Reluctant Pawn

Isadora's eyes bared open as she took in a short sharp breath. She had accidentally knocked herself out... by hitting her head on the wall to avoid being forcefully fed spoils of unknown origins.

Heavy chains hung her wrists above her head, arms stretched to the side weighed over her dirty body spotted with dried blood. The cold hard floor made the entirety of her lower body ache, being in the W-sitting position for so long.

She mapped out her surroundings in foreign darkness, looking relieved to be devoid of company at the moment.

Isadora has been kept captive in this room for days now… about two weeks, if her Intuition was correct. Only checked on once a day to be fed. 

No matter how she screamed, cursed, or struggled for a release, she never got a single word from her ever-changing attendants, only looks engulfed with disgust and hate… a lot of it. As though only a thin thread stopped her visitors from snapping her neck as soon as they set eyes on her.

She wasn't surprised by this. There were many reasons a woman like herself would be kidnapped… reasons she had tried so hard to disassociate from COMPLETELY but from her present situation it was evident her methods had not worked.

Who had ordered her kidnap? The man who had cut her off with the coldest gaze whilst she resisted in the very moment of being caught, chained, and placed on an animal metal choker, clung tightly to her neck. His eyes piercing through hers as he spoke in a deep baritone voice.

You are mine now. Don't think of escaping.

Remembering that scene made a shiver run down Isadora's spine. The same thoughts spiraled in her mind for the thousandth time.

Who was he? What did she have to do with him? She had been kept in this dark ruin for many days, just what was he preparing to do with her?

She was at the brink of going feral crazy being treated as such for some unknown reason. Besides being kept in dark solitude for days, ignored when she spoke, and being feed and injected some substances from time to time, there was no torture, interrogations, reciprocated dialogue... NOTHING.

Unfortunately, she did not have much time to ruminate over these thoughts. From a distance, she could faintly hear heavy steps approaching, growing louder by the moment. Soon, it came to a stop and the sound of opening metal bars took over.

Unwilling to go through the process of being fed again, Isadora feigned unconsciousness. Hopefully whoever was coming in would see her state and go back to the pits of hell they had come from.

One second bled onto a minute and there had been no movements, the area was pin-drop silent, her own breaths being an anomaly in its midst.

She peeked subtly.

Although Isadora couldn't see clearly in the dark room, she could feel a stifling presence with her. It felt so incompatible that it made her skin crawl in terror. She had experienced this feeling once before. It was him!

The masked figure approached her, each step awakening an uneasy feeling in Isadora. It stopped right in front of her pathetic state, and the room resumed silence once more. One second, three passed and nothing happened.

Daring to be a bit relieved, Isadora felt a sharp pain transcend through her mouth cavity and down her neck forcing her eyes open from the ache. The bastard had grabbed her roughly by the chin.

"There is no need to pretend to be unconscious. I had seen you awake already. Besides that, your acting is terrible" He groaned.

He nudged his head to his side letting a small hidden camera leak into Isadora's view. 

Isadora cursed inwardly, she had only played herself just now. She struggled her best to keep her eyes on the crimson gaze of her captor, trying her best to imitate a fearless look.

This was a game of confrontation, she must not show weakness.

"Heh" Her new company let out a grunt of displeasure.

He hated this look she had. A look like she had everything under control, a look like everything was playing out how she wanted. A look her father perfected.

He squeezed her jaw tightly in his iron-like arms, "I heard you've been uncooperative. Did you forget the kind of situation you are in?!"

Isadora lets out a toothy grin, her eyes watered from the sides failing to drop, her body trembling with bitterness, "Who are you? What the fuck do you want from me, you bastard?!"

As soon as these words escaped her mouth a current of electricity possessed her body.

It felt like her brains were melting, her limbs were melting, every part of her body stung simultaneously.

"Arggh!" Isadora yelled in pain as her body went limp, owing her straight posture to her assaulter who still held her up firmly by the chin.

"No one who had spoken to me in such a way had seen the light of a new day. You won't be the first." He asserted with darkened eyes, suddenly Isadora shivered as though the room temperature had dropped many degrees.

She tried to speak but her vocal cords had given up at that moment a squeak rolled out pitifully making her skin crawl. She hated being in a helpless position. She hated this person in the room and she hated herself the most for being so weak.

The man did not look satisfied seeing Isadora already this low at the moment, this was not enough. It would never be enough, not now, not in the future, even if she is crushed to dust. But for now, he will make good use of what he's got.

"Be obedient" He growled, a command more than an advice.

He lets go of her and her face instantly meets the cold floor. Unable to have a good view of the man, Isadora's breath quickens in apprehension. 

"Flavia Isadora Pedro," He called out, Isadora's body went stiff in reaction.

Flavia… it's been many years since she's been addressed by that name and it was for a good reason. Just who was this man?

He circled round her like a vulture able to see the dead-end of its prey, after much struggle.

"To think that geezer had a carbon copy of a child stashed up somewhere..." His tone rolled off more depreciating than sentimental.

"W-what?" Isadora found herself muttering seconds after barely being able to kneel upright.

A hand gripped the tangly locks of Isadora's head drawing her gaze upward.

"Never fucking interrupt me bitch!"

Isadora unconsciously clamped her mouth shut on his command.

He felt for her trembling face with a finger, unsmiling, "Wanna know what's happening this much? You, Flavia, are going to pay a lifetime debt on your name to the Black Saints. "

Isadora stifled a gasp. The Black Saints were currently the number one, of the three most notorious mafia famiglia empires in all of Italy.

If that was right… she trembles… then does that mean she has crossed paths with Vincent Antonio Fernandez the Mafia boss of the Black Saint Empire.

Dubbed 'The bloodthirsty Don', Vincent, the first son of the Fernandez, had climbed up the ranks of the Mafia underworld overwhelmingly fast in the span of five months. Having a vast amount of territory to himself upon his sudden comeback after being missing for many years. The road to his success was saturated in red and the screams of his victims.

He was a name forbidden to be spoken, a monster never to be encountered and an emotionless killer never to be angered.

A harsh mist of dread crawled up Isadora's back - Fear.

She was afraid of this man.

"Heh, of all of 'them' it had to be you."Isadora soliloquized, used to her rotten luck.

"Funny I'm quite sure my tabs are in check," She croaked, her tone taking a plangent route. "I have no business with the Black Saints. More importantly, I absolutely have no business with the Mafia!"

"Daughter of Lance Martinez Pedro…"

Isadora flinched on the mention of this name, Vincent noticed. His face whipped up a disturbing smile.

"You have absolutely everything to do with the Mafia, Flavia and your sins runneth over the heavens."

Her jaw tightened but she managed to force words out of it, repeating the same question but this time with less vigor, "What do you want from me?"

"The Boss of the Red Crescent died… much to my dismay" Vincent ran a finger through the sharp side of a small dagger, which seemed to have appeared from nowhere.

He glanced at the pathetic female on the ground, she held no reaction to his words, after a second the news seemed to have sunk into her.

Isadora's blood-stained lips tilt to form a small smile, "Why should it matter to me if he is dead?"

Vincent grimaced, as expected, like father-like daughter. A daughter who enjoys hearing news about the death of her own father, He had predicted what kind of woman Isadora was.

Deceitful.

"An interesting reaction, I wonder how I, a TS child of his, should take it," Vincent said, his tone had gone dangerously low and his gaze zeroed on her.

Chills.

This was the perfect word to describe what Isadora was feeling right now.

"No!"

She gasped in realization. Her family name, the debt, a TS sibling. They should all be dead, It couldn't be, it should not be like this!…

"No, fuck no!" She cried out, her arms rattling in its chains.

"That has nothing to do with me! I am washed clean from the Mafia!"

"Seeing you like this is a bit pleasing to the eye," Vincent said in all honesty, 

He drew the dagger to her cheeks, its silvery shine reflected in her eyes, "Do you now understand your situation?"

Isadora fails to speak.

Slowly he drags the dagger to her neck, applying a bit more pressure, an atom more would surely break through her skin.

"Why are you so quiet, a moment ago weren't you so energized where did all that go?"

"You are a psycho." Isadora managed to whisper.

"Wrong choice of words."

With a swift move, he slits her left cheek at a calculated angle. Blood drips down the open wound staining the immaculate silver weapon. Simultaneously, Vincent' strong arms tore through Isadora's worn-out clothing grabbing onto the left of her large bust.

"Hnnng~" Isadora winces from the sudden move, a new channel of pain courses through her body.

Vincent squeezed harder his dagger scaling through Isadora's collarbone, taking on this act, the entirety of his eyes filled with malice, doused in hatred.

"Please stop…" She squeaks in a hoarse tone, failing to reach the ears of Vincent.

"To repay your debts, you belong to me, your body belongs to me. If I say breath, you breathe, If I say cease breathing you do just that. Fucking eat dog shit and you obey!"

"You're mine, all mine. Mine to use and discard! - Tu sei mio, tutto mio. Il mio da usare e scartare!" Vincent breathed into her ears.

"I'd rather die than be subjected to the Mafia again." Isadora asserted through gnashed teeth.

Vincent slashed the other side of Isadora's face at the same angle. "Foolish people beget foolish desires. Born into the Mafia, die in the Mafia, no one can ever get clean from it. It's a birth essence. It's life force. And you aren't an exception."

He lets go of her boob taking hold of her chin once more, "You are mine. Your life and death are in my hands what makes you think you can die so easily. This is even a worse possibility as opposed to leaving the Mafia."

"Anyways."

Vincent snaked his hands to her neck and grabbed it, lifting her entire body off the floor several inches high.

"If you love to tango with death I shall help with that."

Isadora's face turned pale, her legs kicked in vain, and her arms were caused to rattle in their chains as she choked for air. The merciless glint in Vincent' eyes didn't seem like he was going to stop soon.

He slammed her in full length against the adjacent wall.

Vincent cocked his head to the side, holding a full smile, "Perhaps I should send you and the one in the elderly home on the same path today."

Isadora's eyes widened, this time she looked more pissed than afraid. In seconds a ball of warm spittle landed on Vincent's face, "Don't drag Giana into this. This is between you and I!"

Faced with the expression she wore, Vincent felt the need to scratch her face off. He had released her neck earlier to wipe his face.

"How foolish of you to reveal a weakness impulsively. Now I want her life even more."

"You….!" Isadora found herself screaming.

Giana is Isadora's number 1, the only thing she cares about in the world.

Giana was Isadora's acknowledged mother.

Giana always does her best to protect Isadora.

Giana was a weakness. 

Giana loves Isadora.

Giana would stake her life for Isadora.

Giana has met many near-death situations for It Isadora's sake.

Giana was a weakness.

Giana is all Isadora has.

Giana is a good person.

Isadora isn't a good person.

Giana does not deserve a daughter like Isadora.

Giana was a weakness.

Isadora can't afford Giana. 

Isadora can't afford having weaknesses.

All weaknesses had to go.

Giana needs to go.

Isadora looked up to this man with a bitter mind, bitter heart, and all five senses had turned sour. She smiled, alas she couldn't do it, "What a pathetic attempt at a threat? Who cares if an old woman dies?"

"I'd be glad to send you off with her once I'm done with you, since that's the case. Don't you think that's a good idea, hmm? That honor you hold so dearly as the daughter of a Pedro shall be shredded." He arched an eyebrow in sardonic inquiry.

Isadora found it difficult breathing, "Let her go. I'm the one you wanted, I won't resist anymore."

"And there is your mistake. You've forgotten that you are in no position to bargain here. Willing or not, I was never asking for your permission."

He took a thoughtful look at her and let out a sick smile, "I'd. Enjoy. Breaking. You. Inside. Out"

Isadora almost screamed in need to take her words back… he didn't mean that… no… no… anything but that

Vincent snapped his fingers and the metal doors opened. Not sparing the occupant another glance he left the room, orders rolled off his tongue immediately.

"Get her ready."

"Yes, Master." A lucid reply came through, from a person Isadora never noticed his presence.

"Bastard!" Isadora yelled, as it dawned on her that she had very well failed in this confrontation.

Just now, what was his goal by fishing up scenarios to rile her up? 

Giana! What's going to happen to her?! This wasn't how she pictured this ending up.

"Ugh," Isadora let out an aggrieved sigh. She really hated her name Pedro.

It was a curse she couldn't get rid of. The name of the most powerful mafia empire was a burden she was forced to carry, now, she was solo bearing it all.

Father… the empire...

Bastards! They were all bastards!