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Queen Of Mafia Brothers

Queen Of Mafia Brothers

ritika mishra

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On the night of her father's lavish party, Serena Moretti's world shatters. Sold to Dante Romano, the ruthless heir to a rival mafia family, she becomes the pawn in a game far more dangerous than she ever imagined. Now trapped in the cold halls of the Romano estate, Serena must learn to survive among five dangerous brothers, each with their own ambitions and secrets. But Serena has secrets of her own-and a will to fight back. As she uncovers the shocking truth behind her father's betrayal, she realizes her survival depends on outsmarting them all. In this brutal world, there are no safe choices. Only one question remains: Will Serena be the one who breaks, or the one who breaks them?

Chapter 1 Grand Auction

Serena~

The cold light of the spotlight hit my skin, and I gasped.

Where am I?

My head spun as I blinked into the brightness, the world around me fading in and out like a nightmare. But this wasn't a nightmare-it was real. Too real. I was standing in the middle of a room filled with shadows, the murmur of voices echoing ominously around me. My heart pounded, each thump echoing through my chest, and panic gnawed at the edges of my mind.

"Eight hundred dollars," a voice boomed from the darkness, cold and detached.

What?

I swallowed, my throat dry. The weight of what was happening crashed down on me, the sharp realization piercing through the fog of confusion. They're bidding on me. Me. The room felt smaller and tighter, as the spotlight trapped me like an animal on display.

"Eight hundred dollars, one."

"Eight hundred dollars, two."

The numbers climbed, and with each new bid, fear clawed its way through my body. Where am I? Why is this happening? My thoughts spun wildly as I clutched the towel wrapped around my body, desperate to shield myself from the unseen eyes devouring me from the darkness.

I had come to a party, hadn't I? A party my father had organized. I could still feel the fabric of the too-tight red gown. My stepmother, Liliana, had forced me to wear earlier-her dress, her choice. I hadn't wanted to wear it, but Vittoria, my stepsister, had told me it was my father's request. I had no choice but to obey.

A party. For me.

But where was I now?

"Five thousand dollars," another voice broke through the fog of my mind, sending a shiver down my spine.

I turned, searching for a way out, my eyes darting around the room, but the shadows swallowed everything beyond the spotlight. My legs shook beneath me, and I stumbled slightly, feeling like the world was closing in. My throat burned with the remnants of the strange juice Vittoria had practically forced into my hand.

And then it hit me.

Vittoria. Liliana. They had planned this. The party, the dress, the drink... they had set me up. This wasn't about celebration. This was about betrayal.

"Ten million dollars."

The voice, cold and devoid of emotion, cut through the room like a blade. I froze, the sound paralyzing me. The crowd grew silent, anticipation thick in the air. Who would pay that much?

"Ten million, one."

"Ten million, two."

The finality of it washed over me like a wave of cold water.

"Sold."

The lights flickered on, and the room exploded into clarity. I stood, exposed, on a stage in front of a sea of faces. Men-powerful men-sat at round tables, their eyes gleaming with greed. My stomach lurched as their gaze traced the outline of my barely covered body. I had been reduced to an object, nothing more than a prize to be bought and sold.

"Mr. Dante Romano, you've won this woman," a voice announced with sickening formality.

My body tensed. Mr. Romano.

I didn't need to look to know who that was. I had seen him earlier-watching me. He had sat in the corner of the party, quiet, commanding, his ice-blue eyes never leaving me. Dante Romano. I had felt his gaze, sharp and dangerous, searing through me even before I understood the full horror of the night.

The crowd parted as he approached the stage, his footsteps slow and deliberate. My heart pounded in my ears as he came into view-tall, dressed in an expensive black suit, his expression unreadable, his presence suffocating.

He stopped in front of me, his icy blue eyes locking onto mine. For a moment, everything around me disappeared-the crowd, the voices, the lights. It was just him and me, and the unspoken tension that hung in the air between us.

"I never buy anything," he whispered, his voice like steel, "without making sure it's of the highest quality."

His words sent a shiver through me, but it wasn't just the coldness in his tone. It was the way he looked at me-like I was something to be conquered, something to be owned.

"I won't take her until I've confirmed she meets the standards," he continued, turning slightly toward the large screen behind me.

My blood ran cold as I followed his gaze. There, on the screen, was footage of me in the bathroom, naked and vulnerable, water cascading over my body as I showered. They filmed me. They planned this. My stomach twisted in horror, my shame exposed for everyone to see.

"Of course, Mr. Romano," another voice said, but I didn't need to turn around to know who it was.

My father.

I looked up, eyes wide, searching the crowd until I found him-standing on a balcony above the room, his expression blank, emotionless. His eyes met mine, but there was no recognition, no love, no regret.

"Dad," I whispered, my voice breaking.

But he didn't respond. He didn't care. He had sold me. Just like that.

"Undress her," my father commanded coldly.

My breath hitched in my throat, and I clutched the towel tighter to my chest, panic rising. "No!" I screamed, my voice trembling. But the guards didn't hesitate. They yanked the towel from my body, leaving me exposed and humiliated.

The room filled with gasps and murmurs as they took in my naked form, but I didn't hear them. All I could hear was the pounding of my heart, the crushing weight of my father's betrayal, and the coldness of Dante Romano's gaze as he watched me with a smirk tugging at his lips.

"Enough," he finally said, his voice calm, but filled with authority.

He reached out, grabbed me by the arm, and dragged me off the stage. My legs were weak, barely able to support me as he pulled me toward the exit.

"Please... don't," I whispered, but my words were swallowed by the crowd.

"Drive," Dante ordered his driver as he shoved me into his car. He climbed in beside me, his presence filling the small space with a suffocating intensity.

One last glance out the window, and I saw them-Vittoria and Liliana, smiling triumphantly. And my father-still unmoved, still cold, still uncaring.

Hatred burned through me, hotter than ever before. How could they do this to me? How could he?

Dante's chilly breath brushed against my skin as he leaned in close, his voice a low whisper. "Be ready for one more surprise, my slave. From now on, you will breathe with my permission."

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