Sold to a Mafia Lord

The rain had already soaked through Emilia's thin sweater by the time the black car stopped in front of the massive iron gates. She was shivering, more from fear than cold, but she didn't speak. She didn't dare.

"Out," the man in the passenger seat barked.

Emilia obeyed. Her shoes sank into the gravel driveway. She heard the door slam shut behind her, and the engine roared to life before the car disappeared back down the road, leaving her behind.

The gates opened slowly, creaking like something out of a horror film. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to keep her trembling hidden as two guards approached, dressed in black and armed.

"You're the girl?" one of them asked, looking her up and down with a frown. "He really paid for this?"

Emilia said nothing.

The guard snorted. "Follow me."

She was led through the front door of a mansion too grand to be real. Marble floors, crystal chandeliers, and silence so thick it echoed. She didn't belong here. She didn't belong anywhere. Her stepfather had signed the papers that morning. A contract-her life in exchange for wiping clean the blood debt he owed. She hadn't seen Lucien Moretti yet, the man who now owned her. Only heard his name whispered in fear on the streets. The Ice King. The Mafia Lord. The man who killed with a smile.

He didn't want her as a wife. Or a lover. He wanted to own her. A maid. A servant. A breathing reminder of her stepfather's shame.

The guard opened a door and gestured. "Wait here. Don't move."

Emilia stepped into a dark room lit only by the fire in the corner. She heard the door close behind her.

Then silence.

Her heart pounded so loudly it filled her ears.

She waited.

One minute. Two. Maybe five.

Then she felt it. A presence.

She turned slowly-and there he was.