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Lahat ng Kabanata ng Indebted to the Mafia King: Kabanata 1 - Kabanata 10

302 Kabanata

In a New York Minute

Eleni“Baba, I have to leave for class in half an hour,” I say as I clear paper plates and cups off one of the high-top tables in the back of The Greek Corner. “I need to change.”My dad huffs a sigh and shoves up from his chair behind the counter. “Yes, chryso mou, I know. But your mama was supposed to be done taking inventory by now to handle customers. Can’t you wait a little?”I bite back a frown and nod. He’s been looking more and more tired since we lost Christos a couple years back. I love the night classes I’ve been taking at the community college a few blocks over, but I’m not going to force my baba to wait tables just so I’m not late. I dump the trash into the garbage can in the back. The bell over the door jingles, and I turn with my customer service smile already plastered on, then freeze.Frank Lombardi, the broad, sneering mobster who’s held my family under his thumb since they came to America, saunters in with a few of his guys. My skin goes cold.“Georgie!” Frank smac

Turf War

EleniI scoot out of the way of Mr. and Mrs. Behrakis as they leave after their usual Wednesday lunch. Both members of the elderly couple smile at me, and I head for their table to pick up their usual generous tip. I haven’t told Mama or Baba about the virginity auction. I know they’d stop me, but I want to contribute to this family too.The bell over the door tinkles, and I turn. My breath catches. The man stepping inside looks like something out of a movie. His warm, tanned skin stretches taut over sharp cheekbones and a square jaw. His black suit is crisp and perfectly tailored over an equally black shirt and tie. The only element of him that doesn’t seem like it was mathematically designed for perfection is his curly hair, which tumbles just a little bit into his night-dark eyes. He looks around as if trying to find something, and his gaze lands on me. His smile is soft and a little cocky, exposing perfect white teeth. Without a word, he sits at the counter attached to the front w

Never Again

EleniI scuttle down the sidewalk after class on Friday night. Professor Whitmore was in rare form, actually seeming to be interested in what people had to say when they raised their hands, but I spent most of the class thinking about my plans for the night. I have to sneak out. I’ve never snuck out before, but I’ve seen movies. My bedroom window lets out onto the fire escape, and I’m certain I can get down from there. I shove my hands in my pockets. The closer I get to the auction, the more ridiculous it seems. Am I really going to sneak out to Staten Island to sell my virginity? Am I really willing to give that to someone who’s willing to buy it?The skin on the back of my neck prickles, and I whip around. A couple makes out on a stoop nearby. An older man with a bottle clasped in a brown paper bag shoos away pigeons collecting in front of him. A few homeless people sleep on benches and blankets. No one seems to be looking at me. I rub my neck under my loose ponytail of brown curl

The Auction

EleniI push the hangers holding my every-day clothes to the side and stare at the few special-occasion dresses I’ve accumulated over the years. I can’t wear my prom dress. The long, glittering baby-pink dress with the lacy sleeves seemed perfect when I picked it out, but I’d stick out like a sore thumb on the ferry. I don’t really want to wear my birthday dress. It stops at my knees, so I might be able to hide it under a long coat, but I picked out the yellow polka-dotted dress because it looked so cheerful, and I don’t want to think of this virginity auction every time we go out to dinner for Mama’s, Baba’s, or my birthday. That leaves me with my funeral dress. I pull the black sheath from the closet and hold it up to my body. It is sleeveless, with just wide straps holding it up, and the skirt doesn’t flare nearly as much as my birthday dress. Every time I wear it to a funeral, I get a little nervous that people might think it’s too sexy because of the fitted top.Perfect.I slide

The Man Behind the Curtain

EleniI whirl. There, on an even softer looking leather couch, wearing another pitch-black suit, sits Dante. He smiles slightly as he swirls a glass of some dark liquor and looks me up and down.“Um,” I say.He stands and prowls closer. My heart hammers against my ribcage. “You shouldn’t be here,” he murmurs.“What?” I blink. “I have the same right to be here that all those other girls do.”Dante chuckles, low and teasing. I gulp.“You actually don’t.” He circles around behind me. “Piacere is my club, and everyone knows the Calimeris family—including their charming daughter El—belongs to the Lombardis.”The rage that ignited in me when I saw Baba in the kitchen flames back to life. “My family doesn’t belong to anyone. And I didn’t know this was your club. I don’t know anything about you.”He circles back around so I can see him again and opens his arms wide. “I’m an open book. Ask me anything.”I mean to ask him why I’m back here, what he wants from me. But I’ve never been good at co

Walk of Shame

EleniI slip out of the front door of Piacere without looking at the stage, where the auction is still going on, or the line of people outside. People—men—from both groups jeer at me, but I ignore them. The envelope of money weighs down the inside pocket of my jacket. Fifty thousand dollars. I hurry through the streets. I have to get home before Baba and Mama wake. The last thing I want is to worry them.Only when I’m already on the ferry back to the city proper do I think about Dante. My face heats. I threw myself at him, and he basically refused. I bite my lower lip, still tingling from the heat and pressure of his kiss. I really thought he wanted me. Stupid. Men like him only ever want me for my body, but I could tell he wanted someone with more to them than that. He just didn’t see more in me.Tears bead in my eyes, and I shake my head. Sure, I sold more to Dante than I ever wanted to, but I have the money. Mama can stop cleaning up Baba’s blood, at least. When I arrive home, I l

Walk it Off

DanteI drop into my leather desk chair and cradle the hot mug of coffee I picked up in the kitchen to my chest. The virginity auction at the club is usually a great way to make some money and pull new eyes. I show up every year, but I’ve never bid before. I’m no saint, but women who’ve never had any kind of sex before tend not to be as…flexible in bed as I prefer. But goddamn Eleni Calimeris. El, as she called herself, one of the worst fake names I’ve ever heard. I can’t get her out of my head. When I went to The Greek Corner the other day, I was just hoping to rile Frank Lombardi. The dickhead gets reckless when he’s mad, so pissing him off is almost always good business. I didn’t expect Eleni. I take a sip of the coffee and allow myself a minute to think about her before I have to do some work. The bun she’d worn to the auction last night made it impossible to think about anything but tasting the skin of her neck. When I asked her what the gyro tasted like to her, her soft blue e

Payment

EleniI blink awake and discover someone removed the bag from my head. I lie on a scratchy couch in what looks like someone’s wood-paneled basement, still wearing my sweatshirt and nightgown. A single lightbulb battles against the dark, but it barely reaches the walls. I suck in a breath, and the musty scent of underground combines with just a hint of the metallic stench I remember from the apartment.The apartment. Where I left Baba dead. Mama isn’t here, so at least they haven’t caught her yet. Or they killed her too. Tears fill my eyes, and I lift a hand to swipe them away.Both of my hands move, accompanied by the sharp bite of plastic. I look down. Someone zip-tied my wrists together. And my ankles.

End of the Line

DanteI stare down at Eleni, bloody, bruised, and half-covered. Rage lights in my veins, something deeper and truer than I’ve felt before. I knew Frank Lombardi was scum. I’ve touched enough blood that he spilled to never question that. But violating Eleni like this is something new. It’s the end of the goddamn line for him.She stares up at me, and the confusion in her wide, blue eyes morphs slowly into fear. “Dante? Wh-why are you here?”Fuck. I never want to scare her. I kneel and snap out my switchblade. She flinches, but I can’t do anything about that. I slit the zip ties around her ankles, fix her skirt, then hold out my hands for her wrists, struggling to keep my movements slow and calming.

Eye of the Storm

EleniI stare blankly out the window of the sports car Dante poured me into, watching the city whip by. If Dante wanted to kill me, he would have by now, right? He wouldn’t bother taking me to a secondary location. My body would blend in with the others covering the floor of the auto shop he whisked me out of. Anyway, he was right. He bought me at the auction. I belong to him. I knew I should never have left without paying my debts.The gory images I saw on our way out whisk through my mind. The scent of blood teases my nostrils. I know I should feel bad about what I did to Frank, but when I think about the blood, I can only think about Baba, his pained scream. And I can’t really think about any of it. So, I stare out the window.We pause at

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