His Mafia Possession

felt like a palace for a predator. And I was the offering. When the guards finally came for me again, I didn't resist. My wrists were red and sore, but at least they weren't tied anymore. I kept

. I'll stay." Zamian raised an eyebrow. Amused. Intrigued. That infuriating glint in his eyes. "You came in here ready to barter yourself?" he asked, his voice smooth and sharp like a razor wrapped in silk. "I came here to survive," I said. "And to give my dad a chance to fix the mess he made." Zamian stepped forward slowly, eyes never leaving mine. "You think you can survive me?" "I don't think," I said, my jaw clenched. "I know." He stopped just a few inches away. The heat from his body, the scent of him-dark, commanding-surrounded me. "You remember me now, don't you?" he murmured. "The dock. The bump. The insult." "Yes," I said without flinching. "And yet, here you are. Offering yourself up like a lamb." His lips curled into something between a smirk and a snarl. "Interesting." Behind me, my dad was still pleading. "Please, Zamian-take me. I'll work for you. I'll pay you back every cent." Zamian didn't even glance his way. "She stays," he said simply. "No!" Dad tried to move forward, but the guards held him back. "She stays," Zamian repeated, this time turning toward him. "You had your chance, Mr. Coleman. You gave her up. You don't get to change your mind now." "I didn't know what you'd do to her-" "You knew exactly what it meant!" Zamian's voice snapped like thunder, sharp and final. "You don't gamble with your blood and expect to win." I stepped between them again. "Dad, go," I said firmly. His eyes were glassy, his voice shaking. "Avery, I can't-" "You can," I said, softer now. "You have to. You can't protect me in here. But you can fix this out there. Find the money. Pay it back. Get me out." He hesitated. "I'll be okay," I whispered,