Page 91 of My Mafia King

Suddenly, my past comes to me in painful flashbacks.

Of all the ways my life could go to waste, this, sadly––insert sarcasm here––wasn’t one of them.

My life didn’t begin on a high note, and it won’t end on a high note either. My first few years of life were the best. And by that, I mean they weren’t the worst.

I still had my mother, and she protected me from my father.

I indulge in the memory of her, the humbleness of our lives, and our hope for a better tomorrow.

That never happened, and no matter how determined I was to make it happen later on, it seemingly wasn’t in the stars for us.

If the only reason to go through all that crap was to end up like this, then fuck my fate. I’m not afraid of what’s to come.

I’d slash anyone’s neck open before being forced to suck their dick.

But this isn’t only about me.

It’s also about the conversation I have had with my sister. It’s still fresh in my memory.

All those promises I had made and the hope I had tried to instill in her… It was all for nothing.

She’ll hate me.

And she’ll end up just like me. Not like me here, a bargaining chip for these two men. But like me, a woman without options.

And then I remember she could end up like me if Beau Anthony had grabbed her. And realize I need to stay alive through any means.

I beg Damaso with my eyes, but he doesn’t look my way while the Russian speaks again.

“I’ll give you a million dollars for this woman,” he says, and my jaw hits the floor.

What the fuck is this?

I am suddenly some hot commodity? One million dollars? What made my value increase overnight?

I’ve meant nothing to most people all my life, and now I’m some coveted prize? An investment? A trophy?

“You sell this woman to me, and I’ll make sure she keeps her mouth shut,” he says, moving his eyes back to me, hunger glinting in his stare. “Trust me, her mouth will be busy for a while.”

17

CARMINA

The tension is sothick it feels like a clap of thunder is about to detonate in the room.

“And don’t worry,” he goes on, although no one knows what he means by that, and looking around the room, no one seems to care, let alone be worried about him. “I’ll get my money back. When I’m done convincing her it’s in her best interest to stay silent, the right client will pay me double to take ownership of her.”

My stomach clenches with apprehension.

No matter how much I try to keep my cool, I feel like I’m about to die. Images of me being tossed around from one crazy, disgusting man to another while living a life of abuse and servitude and condemning my little sister to a similar fate bring bile to my mouth.

I feel so sick I stagger on my feet, and all I need right now is to bend over, hold my hair back, and discard all the food I had for dinner.

The fear simmering in my veins is like nothing I’ve ever felt before. The thought that this man would get to touch me makes my skin crawl.

My hope is gone as I don’t see a way out of this when Damaso’s voice echoes in the room.

“I’ll pay you double to end this conversation,” Salla says, and all the people in the room flick their eyes at him, myself included.

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