Mafia's forbidden Desires

The steady hum of the city was all but drowned out by the rapid pulse in Sophia Russo's ears. Her heels clicked against the cold marble floor of the grandiose building, the sound echoing through the dimly lit hallway. Every nerve in her body screamed at her to turn around, to leave, but her feet kept moving forward. She couldn't afford to back down now. Not with her mother lying in a hospital bed, the clock ticking, the doctors staring at her with pity in their eyes.

She hadn't even told her mother. How could she? How could she explain that she was about to auction herself off to the highest bidder just to pay for the surgeries that might save her life? She clenched her fists, nails digging into her palms as she forced herself to take another step.

"Sophia, wait!"

The familiar voice echoed through the corridor, and she froze. Turning slowly, she saw her best friend, Isabella, rushing toward her, her dark hair bouncing with every step.

"Izzy, what are you doing here?" Sophia's voice wavered slightly, the anxiety bubbling in her chest.

Isabella stopped in front of her, breathless. "I couldn't let you do this alone. Are you sure about this? I mean... this is dangerous." Her brown eyes were wide, concern etched into every line of her face.

Sophia swallowed hard, her throat dry. "Do I have a choice? My mother is dying, Izzy. I don't have time to wait for a miracle. This... this is the only way."

Isabella grabbed her hand, squeezing it tightly. "There has to be another way. Maybe we can-"

"There's no time." Sophia cut her off, her voice firmer than she felt. "I've already made up my mind. I can't let my mother suffer any longer."

Isabella's shoulders slumped in defeat, and she looked away, her lips trembling. "I just... I don't want you to get hurt."

Sophia forced a weak smile, her heart twisting with the fear she refused to show. "I'll be fine. It's just one night, right? Just one night."

They both knew it was more than that, but neither of them dared to voice the truth. The auction wasn't just a one-time event; it was a lifetime of consequences, a choice that could never be undone. But the alternative? Losing her mother? That wasn't something Sophia could live with.

A door at the end of the hallway creaked open, and a man stepped out, his gaze sweeping over the two women. He was tall, impeccably dressed in a dark suit, his hair slicked back. His eyes, cold and calculating, settled on Sophia, and he gestured for her to come forward.

"It's time," he said, his voice as flat and emotionless as his expression.

Sophia's stomach twisted into knots, but she nodded. "I'll be fine," she whispered to Isabella before turning and walking toward

the man waiting at the end of the hall. Each step she took felt heavier, as if the weight of the decision she'd made was pressing down on her more with every inch she moved closer to that door.

Isabella didn't follow. She couldn't. There was nothing more to say, and both of them knew it. Sophia forced herself to breathe as she approached the man, whose eyes bore into her with a detached disinterest that made her skin crawl.

He held the door open, ushering her into a room bathed in a soft golden glow. The room was lavishly decorated-crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, velvet drapes lined the walls, and in the center stood a small stage. Her heart raced as she realized what the stage was for. Tonight, she wasn't a person. She was a product.

"I hope you understand the terms," the man said, stepping in behind her and closing the door with a soft click. "Once the auction begins, you cannot back out. The buyer will own you for as long as he pleases, and the sum agreed upon will be wired directly into your account."

"I understand." Her voice sounded small, hollow, even to her own ears.

"Good." He didn't spare her a second glance as he moved to another door on the far side of the room. "You'll be called when it's your turn. Until then, wait here."

He left without another word, leaving Sophia alone in the dimly lit space. Her eyes roamed the room, lingering on the stage, the sleek mahogany floor, and the velvet chair that sat in the center of it. It looked more like a throne than a chair, and the thought of sitting on it, being displayed in front of strangers, sent a shiver of disgust through her.

Panic began to rise in her chest. She wasn't ready. This wasn't what she imagined, wasn't how she thought things would go. It all felt too real now. The idea of auctioning herself had been just that-an idea, a desperate solution to an impossible problem. But now, standing here in this room, it hit her like a freight train: she was about to sell herself.

Her breath came faster, and she pressed a hand to her chest, trying to calm the pounding of her heart.

I can't do this. I can't...

The thought of running crossed her mind, but where would she go? Even if she escaped this room, even if she made it out of the building, her problems wouldn't disappear. Her mother would still be sick, and the hospital bills would still be unpaid. Sophia gritted her teeth and clenched her fists at her sides.

I don't have a choice.

But the thought gave little comfort. Just as she was about to sink into one of the chairs at the edge of the room, the door creaked open again. Her heart skipped a beat, and she turned, expecting to see the man who'd ushered her in.

But it wasn't him.

It was a different man entirely, and the moment she saw him, Sophia froze. His presence was overwhelming, commanding. He stood tall and broad, dressed in a sleek black suit that looked tailor-made to his powerful frame. Dark hair swept back from his sharp, chiseled features, and his eyes-dark, intense, and cold-locked onto hers with a predatory gleam.

"I didn't expect to find you here alone," he said, his voice a low, smooth rumble. There was an edge to his tone, something dangerous beneath the surface, and it sent a chill down her spine.

"I'm waiting for the auction," Sophia said, her voice wavering as she stepped back instinctively.

He didn't move, but his eyes narrowed slightly, studying her with an intensity that made her feel exposed. Vulnerable. "And you thought you'd go through with it?"

"I have to," she replied, hating how small her voice sounded.

The man let out a low, almost mocking chuckle, his lips curling into a slight smirk. "Do you even know what you're getting into? This isn't a game. Once you're sold, you belong to the buyer. There's no going back."

"I know what I'm doing," Sophia shot back, her defiance surprising even herself. "I don't have a choice."

He took a step closer, and despite the size of the room, it felt like all the air had been sucked out of it. She was trapped, caught in the gaze of this dark, dangerous man who seemed to know far more than he should.

"What if I offered you a way out?" His voice dropped, and the way he looked at her made her heart race for reasons she didn't quite understand.

"A way out?" she echoed, her breath catching in her throat.

"Forget the auction. You leave with me, and your debts are paid."

Her mind reeled. "What? Why? Why would you do that?"

His smirk widened slightly, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Let's just say I have my reasons."

"Who are you?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

The man stepped closer, towering over her now, his presence consuming. He leaned down slightly, his breath brushing against her ear as he spoke.

"Dante DeLuca."

Sophia felt the blood drain from her face. She'd heard the name before. Everyone in Milan knew that name. Dante DeLuca, the man who ruled the underworld with an iron fist, a man who was feared as much as he was respected. And now he was standing in front of her, offering her a way out of the nightmare she'd stepped into.

"I... I can't," she stammered, her mind racing. "I don't even know you."

"Trust me, tesoro," Dante murmured, his voice low and dangerous. "You're better off with me than being auctioned off to some other monster."

The door to the room opened again, cutting through the thick tension. It was the same man from before, and he paused when he saw Dante standing there, surprise flickering across his face.

"Mr. DeLuca," he greeted, his tone more respectful than it had been with Sophia. "The auction is about to begin."

Dante straightened, his eyes never leaving Sophia. "Not for her."

The man hesitated, clearly unsure of what to do. "But sir, she-"

"I said," Dante cut him off, his voice sharp, "not for her."

Sophia's heart raced as she watched the two men, unsure of what was happening. The man from the auction finally nodded, stepping back. "As you wish, Mr. DeLuca."

Without another word, Dante turned to her, his dark eyes locking onto hers. "You're coming with me."

And just like that, it wasn't a question. It was a command.

Sophia stood frozen, torn between the fear that gripped her and the strange, undeniable pull Dante had on her. She had no idea what he wanted from her, but the alternative-being sold off to some unknown buyer, some stranger who would treat her like property-seemed far worse.

With a shaky breath, she nodded.

Dante's smirk returned, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "Good girl."

He turned and started toward the door, and despite the weight of her fear, Sophia's feet moved of their own accord, following him out of the room and into the unknown.

As they stepped into the hallway, she could feel Isabella's eyes on her, the silent question hanging between them. But there was no time to explain, no time to turn back. The man walking beside her was now her future, and whatever lay ahead, it was too late to change course.

Dante led her down a side exit, bypassing the auction entirely. His stride was purposeful, his hand hovering just behind her lower back, not touching but guiding. She could feel the heat of him, a reminder that this was no dream she could wake from.

Outside, a sleek black car waited, and a man in a suit opened the door as they approached. Dante ushered her inside, his hand finally settling on her waist as he guided her into the leather seats. The moment she slid into the car, the gravity of what she'd just agreed to hit her like a tidal wave.

Sophia's hands trembled slightly as Dante joined her, settling into the seat beside her with a predatory ease. The door closed behind them, and the car began to move, the world outside blurring as they sped through the streets of Milan.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Sophia stared straight ahead, her mind spinning with questions, fears, and a strange undercurrent of something she couldn't quite name.

Finally, she broke the silence. "Why did you do that?"

Dante glanced at her, one brow lifting slightly. "Do what?"

"Buy me. I don't even know you. You could have just let me go to the auction like everyone else."

A slow, dangerous smile spread across his lips. "Because, tesoro, I don't like to share."

His words sent a chill down her spine, but at the same time, a warmth she didn't want to acknowledge spread through her chest. This man-this dangerous, powerful man-had chosen her, claimed her. And now, there was no going back.