TALE OF A MAFIA KING

The auction house smelled of desperation and fear. The stale scent of unwashed bodies mixed with the sour tang of sweat hung heavy in the air, clinging to my skin like a second layer of filth. My knees trembled as I stood behind the heavy curtain, the bruises on my arms a reminder of my captors’ warning.

“Behave, or you’ll regret it,” they’d sneered, their mocking laughter following me into the darkness.

My name is Nelly Stone. For as long as I can remember, I’ve been nothing more than property—a pawn in a cruel game played by those who hold the power. My memories of freedom are fleeting, fragmented pieces of a life stolen from me. All I know is that tonight, my fate would be sealed.

“You’re up next, girl,” the handler barked, shoving me forward.

The coarse burlap dress scratched against my skin as I stumbled, catching myself against the edge of the curtain. Beyond the velvet drape, I could hear the low hum of voices—men with money and influence, gathered here to bid on lives like mine. The thought made bile rise in my throat, but I swallowed it down. Showing weakness would only make things worse.

The auctioneer’s voice boomed, drowning out the murmurs. “Ladies and gentlemen, we have something truly special for you tonight. A rare beauty, untouched and unspoiled. Perfect for any of your... desires.”

My stomach churned as I realized he was talking about me.

The curtain was yanked open, and I was thrust onto the stage. Bright lights blinded me, and the roar of the crowd felt like a physical blow. My hands clenched at my sides as I fought the urge to shrink away. I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction.

“And here she is!” the auctioneer announced, his voice oily and insincere. “A virgin, as pure as they come. Who will start the bidding at one million?”

Gasps rippled through the room, followed by a flurry of raised paddles. The numbers climbed higher and higher, the frenzy feeding on itself. I wanted to scream, to run, to fight—but there was nowhere to go.

Then, amidst the chaos, a voice cut through the noise like a blade.

“Five million.”

The room fell silent.

I turned my head, searching for the source of the voice, and my breath caught in my throat. He stood at the back of the room, his towering frame shrouded in shadows. Despite the dim light, I could make out his sharp features—the chiseled jaw, and the piercing blue eyes that seemed to see straight through me. He exuded power and danger, his presence commanding the attention of everyone in the room.

The auctioneer cleared his throat, his smile faltering. “Five million, going once... going twice...”

“Ten million,” another bidder called out, his voice wavering.

A murmur of disbelief swept through the crowd. I could feel the tension in the air, thick and suffocating.

The man at the back didn’t even blink. “Fifteen million.”

The room erupted into chaos.

“No one’s worth that much!” someone shouted.

“Is he insane?”

But the man’s gaze never wavered. His eyes were locked on mine, a silent promise burning in their depths.

The auctioneer’s voice shook as he brought down the gavel. “Sold! To Mr. Dante Stormborn for fifteen million!”

Dante Stormborn. The name sent a shiver down my spine. I’d heard the rumors—whispers of a ruthless king who ruled the Russian mafia with an iron fist. They said he was untouchable, invincible. And now, he owned me.

The handler grabbed my arm, dragging me off the stage and toward the waiting area. My legs felt like jelly, my mind spinning with questions. Why would someone like him pay so much for me? What did he want?

The answer came soon enough.

The heavy door to the backstage area swung open, and there he was, filling the doorway with his presence. The room seemed to shrink around him, the air crackling with tension.

“Leave us,” he commanded, his voice low and gravelly.

The handler didn’t hesitate, scurrying out of the room like a frightened rat.

Dante’s eyes locked onto mine, and I felt a strange mix of fear and fascination. He took a step closer, his movements slow and deliberate, like a predator stalking its prey.

“You’re mine now,” he said, his voice soft but laced with steel. “And no one will ever touch you again.”

I didn’t know whether to feel relieved or terrified.

I took a step back, my instincts screaming at me to create distance between us. But there was nowhere to run. The room was small, and suffocating, with Dante Stormborn looming in its center. His piercing blue eyes pinned me in place, and I felt as though he could see every hidden part of me—my fear, my desperation, and my shame.

“You’re scared,” he said, his deep voice reverberating through the silence.

I swallowed hard, unable to form a response.

“You should be,” he continued, stepping closer. “Men like me don’t make purchases like this without expectations.”

My breath hitched. His words were a warning, but they were also laced with something else—possession. The way he looked at me wasn’t like the others at the auction. They had stared at me as though I were an object, a prize to be claimed. Dante’s gaze burned with something more dangerous.