Claimed By The Mafia Billionaire

“Do you think your tears are important to me?”

His voice snapped like a whip. Sharp. Icy. A cruel echo off the concrete walls.

My knees scraped raw against the cold basement floor, the sting sharp as glass. I didn’t look up. I couldn’t. The silence I clung to was brittle, threatening to shatter under the weight of my breath.

But he didn’t want silence.

“Answer me!”

A fist twisted into my hair, yanking my head up so fast I barely had time to gasp. My scalp burned. My throat closed. I choked on the cry clawing its way up.

His breath slammed into my face cheap whiskey and rotting anger. “Useless girl. Just like your mother.”

That name. That curse. It landed harder than his grip.

My mother had vanished when I was five, slipping away like smoke in the night. I had spent years wondering if she ran… or if she was thrown away like trash. Either way, she was gone and I had been left behind.

He flung me back, the force of it making my spine crack against the stone. I caught myself on trembling elbows, lips bleeding where I’d bitten them.

“I do everything for you,” he spat, pacing now, boots thudding like war drums. “And what do you give me? Trouble. Debt. Shame.”

My throat ached with the scream I kept buried.

“You sit here like a damn stray, soaking up my food, my air, and for what?” His hands clenched at his sides. “You think you’re above this? You think you deserve better?”

No.

Yes.

“I…..” My voice wavered.

Wrong move.

He spun, faster than I could flinch, and slapped the words out of my mouth. My head jerked to the side, the metallic taste of blood blooming instantly on my tongue. The room tilted.

“You’ll fix this,” he said, quieter now. The kind of quiet that froze your bones. “You hear me, Dysis?”

He used my name like it tasted bitter. Like it wasn’t mine anymore.

I blinked through the haze in my vision. “Fix what?” My voice barely crawled past my lips.

He grinned.

That grin turned my stomach to stone.

“Do you have any idea how deep I’m in? Huh?” He crouched, so close I could see the burst blood vessels in his eyes. “You did this to me. You were a mistake from the start, and now you’re gonna fix it.”

The walls felt like they were pressing in, squeezing the air from my lungs.

“I don’t understand—”

“You will,” he said, rising. “Soon.”

“What did you do?”

That grin grew wider, stretched too thin. “I sold you.”

The words hit harder than any blow he’d ever delivered.

The air disappeared.

“You—what?”

“You heard me.” He pulled a crumpled pack of cigarettes from his pocket, tapped one out with steady fingers, lit it. “Guy’s coming tonight.”

The match hissed. The smoke curled. My world caved in.

“You’re lying.”