Forced to Marry the Mafia Boss

"You useless girl!"

"Aunt, please. That hurts," I held onto her wrist, trying to pry her off me from pulling off my hair.

"You're going with the men coming later. Or I'll give them Clyde instead. Your brother's a boy. He's more useful. They'll train him to beat people, maybe even kill. He'll grow up to be a criminal, all thanks to you."

"No! Please don't do that. He's just a kid," I begged. "I promised my parents I'd take care of him. I swore I'd raise him right."

I couldn't just stay silent. I had to fight back. If I didn't, my parents might just rise from their graves to curse me. Or worse, haunt me for abandoning our youngest.

"She's still arguing?" a new voice cut in. My heart dropped. It was my uncle. Lazy, useless, and jobless. Yet they expected me and Clyde to work for them.

"Where's Clyde?" Aunt Wilma snapped.

I turned from one to the other, my chest tightening. "What do you mean, where is he?"

I struggled harder, ignoring the burning in my scalp just to break free. When I finally did, I gasped. Strands of my hair were left in her hand.

"Where's my brother?" I demanded, this time staring straight at my uncle.

He grinned.

"I knew you'd act like this. So I already hid him somewhere you'll never find. But if you finally say yes... I'll go get him back."

I wanted to rip that smug smile right off his face. I didn't know how Aunt Wilma ever fell for a bastard like him. He wasn't even attractive. And yet, she was obsessed with him.

Good thing they never had kids. Knowing how strong their genes are, that poor child would've looked exactly like him. I'd seen his nieces and nephews. They all looked like trolls with the same disgusting attitude.

"Tell me where he is. Don't drag Clyde into your disgusting plans. He's just a child. He doesn't deserve this," I pleaded.

"Wow, listen to her," Aunt Wilma muttered, then suddenly slapped me so hard my face turned sideways. My eyes stung with tears.

"You ungrateful little witch!" my uncle shouted as he rushed at me and grabbed my hair too.

"Stop!" I cried. His grip was ten times worse. His hand was heavy and rough. He yanked my head back, and I could feel my neck twist just to follow the pull. My scalp felt like it was tearing.

I grabbed his hand with both of mine, trying to pry his fingers out of my hair, but he wouldn't let go.

"You don't get to talk back to us. Got it?" my uncle snapped, then slapped me... again and again.

My face was numb now. I couldn't even tell how many times his heavy palm had landed. And when he finally let go of my hair, I collapsed, dizzy and shaking.

"Look at her," my aunt laughed, "After everything we've done for you two, this is how you repay us?"

Then came the threat again. The one that made my blood turn ice cold.

"Listen close, Nevaeh. If you won't agree to pay off what I owe, that's fine. But don't blame me when I hand your little brother over instead. You can keep working for us while he's off doing God knows what. But you? You're old enough now. Pretty enough. Smooth skin, innocent face. The kind of girl men will fight over in a pleasure house."

He grinned at me with something disgusting in his eyes. Like he was enjoying imagining it.

"That's enough, Peter. Boss Damian's gonna be here soon. I told you not to hit her in the face, remember? If she's all bruised up, she'll be worth less!"

"Idiot," he muttered when he plopped onto the old couch like he just finished a shift at a real job. "She knows she can't do anything, but she still runs her mouth. Good thing you told her early before she got any dumber."

My aunt sat beside him and started massaging his shoulders like he was some war hero instead of a monster.