Her Mate Turns out to be the Mafia King

Mila's POV

“Where is it? I know this isn’t everything!”

My stepmom has been shouting since the second I walked in and even though I’ve told her multiple times that I’m not hiding any money, she doesn’t believe me.

Of course, that’s not entirely true. I have been hiding money from her. The tips I’ve made during my time working have been going into a jar hidden in my room. It’s the money I use for school, and I will never hand it over to her. Going to school is the only thing that will help me get out of this place. Even though I’m technically an adult, I don’t have anywhere to go yet.

“Are you listening to me?” My stepmom’s high pitch screech snaps me back into the present and I lower my eyes to the floor.

“Yes. But I’m telling you the truth…” I risk looking up at her.

She’s a beautiful woman, but underneath is a monster.

“…I don’t have anymore.” I finish off my reply, only to feel a sharp pain across my cheek.

It isn’t the first time she’s done this, but this time feels different. A second later, I realized why. Warmth moves down my face and I lift my hand to feel what’s causing the sensation. When I pull my hand back, I see the red blood on my fingers. Startled, I pull my hand back, my heart racing. The vivid red of my blood stains my fingertips, stark against my pale skin.

A dark image flashes into my mind, but I push it away. That is a memory I never want to revisit.

I quickly shake my head, forcing the haunting image away. This isn't the moment to let the past consume me.

I take a deep breath and steady myself.

“You are no longer the vulnerable person you used to be. You are stronger, capable of defining your own worth and creating your own happiness.” I murmur to myself.

That's what my therapist told me last week when I was consulting online.

“See what you made me do? You make me so angry and then I’m forced to hurt you. If you would stop lying to me, then I wouldn’t get so upset.” She says with a huff and crosses her arms over her chest like a pouting child than an aggressor.

I watch her but don’t say a thing. What could I say?

As she stands there, arms crossed over her chest, I can't help but see a glimmer of vulnerability in her eyes. The cycle of hurt runs deep, and perhaps, just perhaps, I can find a way to break it.

“I have some things I need to finish before school tomorrow,” I say and move to walk past her, but she grabs my arm hard.

“We’re not done here.” She hisses at me.

Her hand squeezes tighter and I start to feel a whole new kind of warmth. See, it wasn’t just my dad and me who gained an ability. My stepmom did too, and hers was the ability to burn anything she touched if she wanted…including me.

A few years ago, a series of scientific research buildings were attacked. In an effort to weaken our country's ability to further in the scientific field, several of our research facilities in various parts of the country were destroyed. What these enemies didn’t expect was that the chemicals from those research facilities had seeped into our water supply and had slowly been manipulating our DNA. Last year was the first report of someone showing a hint of supernatural abilities. Then another and another until suddenly, there were people with abilities popping up all over the place.

My father was one of those people, only the change didn’t agree with him. The power literally ate him alive from the inside out and killed him. I have no doubt that if he had achieved full transformation, he would have used whatever power he was blessed with to hurt others. He was that kind of monster. People with abilities were either feared or envied, and he would have made sure people feared him.

I, on the other hand, have tried hiding my ability for as long as I can. My ability would have me locked up and used until nothing was left of me. The ability to heal is a gift everyone would want to take advantage of, so I don’t use it…ever.

“There isn’t anything else I can say that will make you believe me.” I point out and I bite back the whimper I want to release from the feeling of my skin burning under her touch.

“I will find that money Mila, and when I do, your punishment will be the worst you’ve ever felt.” She releases my arm and I can see the red of her fire slowly fading away from the palms of her hands. “Get away from me.”

With a sharp twist, she turns on her heels, leaving a whirlwind of frustration in her wake. I stand there, trembling, as the echo of her threat reverberates through my mind.

Once the tension dissipates, a wave of relief washes over me, mingling with the residual fear.

As her figure becomes smaller in the distance, my facade crumbles, and I allow myself to release a silent sob. My arm is throbbing and when I look down, I see an angry red hand shaped mark branded on my skin. It didn’t reach too far into my skin to cause severe damage, but it’s enough to scar and cause incredible pain. It’s just another to add to my collection of marks I already have.

I could have healed myself many times, but I never have. Revealing my ability would be catastrophic; she'd never let me leave this house if she knew. And that's not a life I'm willing to accept.

No way am I letting that happen!

I take in a few shaky breaths before I head for the stairs and jog up to the second floor. My room is the smallest one on this floor and as far away from all the other rooms as it could possibly get.

Out of sight, out of mind, right?

I walk quickly to my room and head straight to my dresser where I keep all the supplies I need to treat the burn. Once I have it all, I set everything on my side table and flip on the lamp. It’s bright enough to let me see my wound, but that’s about it. I carefully set up my supplies and slowly put creams on the burn before wrapping it in special gauze.

Did you know you can’t use just any bandage on burns, otherwise it can cause further pain?