All Chapters of Sold to the Mafia : Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

From up here, the world looks blurred by smoke and sin.The VIP section looms above it all tucked behind a one-way glass. Below, bodies writhe under red strobes, chasing ecstasy and forgetting names. My gaze lingers over tangled limbs and naked skin that gleams with sweat. Pleasure is currency here and everyone down there is either selling it or buying more time to feel alive.I lean further against the glass. Not for comfort, because there is none, but to feel something solid beneath my hands. My palms are damp, and my breath is uneven but my eyes... they don't blink. They watch.They can see people disappearing into darkness down there. Into rooms with no doors or into corners that eat the light. I envy how they vanish willingly, like moths diving into flame.A woman collapses into a man's lap and throws her head back in what must be laughter though I can't hear it. The music below is too loud, too relentless it just drowns everything in bass and distortion. Another figure slides in

The air is still when I wake.Flat, recycled and quiet in a way that feels familiar.My eyes adjust slowly as I drag them across the ceiling then to the walls.No windows.No clock.I am back in the same four corners I remember. Same sterile gray walls, dim lighting and that heavy door with no fucking handle on this side. I am back in the room they gave me when this all started. If I can call it that but it's not a cell, just something in between. Just a limbo of muted colors and carefully placed illusions.The blanket is the same too. It's too soft and too clean. It's the kind of luxury that makes your skin itch because it isn't about comfort... It's more or less about this psycho's twisted psychological game. The last thing I remember was being drugged... how long have I been out for?A strangled scream tears from the center of my chest before I can stop it.I sit up fast and hurl the nearest pillow across the room. It hits the vanity table with a hollow thud knocking something ove

The man doesn't say anything more. Instead, he turns sharply on his heel and strides out the room. I wait a beat as I listen to his heavy steps echoing down the hallway before pushing myself up from the bed. My eyes dart down to the wooden blade that is still resting like a quiet talisman on the floor. Not even a second later, two guards burst through the door and yank me to my bare feet. I stand silently as they flank me and lead me out into the cold hallway and to the room where he waits.When we reach the door, the men don't bother with gentleness. They just shove me inside like I'm cargo, not a fucking person. My palms and knees slap the cold floor as I fall hard against it the polished marble.For a second, I don't move. I just breathe and feel.The door clicks shut behind me, sealing me in with the deafening silence... and him.The Ice King is seated on the edge of his bed. His head is low, but his bloodied knuckles are stretched out on the white sheets. I silently move to his si

The echo of the gunshot still hums beneath my skin. It's in my ears. In my spine. In the sticky heat clinging to my chest.I don't remember how I got here.Not past the stares.Not past the chair scraping back, the murmurs, the shuffling of bodies as they dragged her away.Now I'm perched on the edge of a cold marble bench in a bathroom that feels too clean, too still. My legs are trembling, my dress is still damp and there's blood--- hers--- still spattered like a threat across my cheekbone and jaw.I stare down at my hands in my lap. They're clean, but they don't feel that way.The door clicks shut. I don't look up, but I feel him in the space. The scent of gunpowder that clung to his body has been replaced by sandalwood that is edged with something cooler like bergamot, maybe.His footsteps though softened by the rug beneath them are maddeningly slow and purposeful... deliberate even like a predator who doesn't need to stalk just exist.The man doesn't speak. A moment passes. Then

Dawn seeps through the curtains in thin painting the room in pale gold and shadow. The world outside is still quiet. I have been awake before the sun only to still be trapped and tangled in sheets that feels impossibly cold after the heat of the night. My body still remembers the weight of him behind me... the warmth of his skin pressed so close, the steady rhythm of his breathing. I lie still as I stare off to the side, trying to will this knot of confusion into silence.Slowly, my eyes drift down. The sheets shift but his arm is still around me, only now there's something unmistakable hard pressing against my back.I freeze. The awkwardness of the situation coils uneasy in my chest. Does he know? Has he woken? Is he aware of this subtle um, reaction body makes in the early light?I start to shift carefully as to not wake a sleeping beast. My limbs feel stiff, and my pulse feels too loud in my ears. I need space. Air. Distance from the heat of his... body. I turn slightly to him,