Mafia's Property

TER

hile others trembled in fear. I prayed for my soul, wherever it may end up tonight.From where I stood I was able to get a glimpse of what lay behind the curtain. Rows of chairs were arranged, and men littered the place, I could tell that hardly any male in that room was less than powerful. At the front of the room was a raised platform where the auctioneer would put us on display.Soon the auctioneer began calling us by our assigned numbers, I was number 8. After a moment of listening to the girls before I got sold, it was finally my turn. I stepped out onto the podium, the bright lights momentarily blinding me. My fingers trembled and my body shook with emotions as I listened to the auctioneer list off my qualities.I tuned out his voice and my surroundings, keeping my head low and eyes downcast. But the moment the word 'sold' rang in the air my head

terrified me.The silence in the car was suffocating, only the distant sounds of the city at night seeped in. I swallowed hard, my mind running wild with the imagination of what lies ahead of me. The girls had spoken about the harsh lives after you are bought. Some are turned into paid prostitutes, maids, mistresses, and sometimes even breeding machines."Where are we? W-where are you taking me?" I whispered out, pressing myself further against the door, trying to put some distance between us. The thought of being trapped in this car with these men heightened my anxiety. My fingers curled into my palm, pressing down painfully.Just when I thought he hadn't heard me, he spoke, "We are in Moscow," a beat of silence passed again before he continued, "We are going to New York." That was the last we spoke throughout the car ride and even when we boarded the plane, no one spoke. The man kept talking in Italian to the other men around him and into the phone that stayed pressed to his ear throughout the ride. I must have fallen asleep at some point because I was sha