: Sold To My Father's Killer

Gia’s POV

The word exploded through the room.

A wave of murmurs and animal-like groans followed as their eyes raked across my body with callous hunger.

Vincenzo’s hand clamped around my arm.

His grip was cold and hard as he yanked me forward.

I resisted, taking a step back on shaking legs, but his fingers dug deeper, bruising.

He hissed in my ear, “Move.”

And then I stepped into the light.

It hit me, hot, blinding, exposing me completely.

The room erupted in a chaotic mix of cheers, whistles, groans, applause, and laughter.

Several men leaned forward, some rising to their feet with expressions so vile they turned my stomach.

How could they be this cruel?

Didn’t they have daughters? Sisters? Mothers?

I wrapped my arms around my chest, trying to shield myself... what little there was left to protect. But their eyes devoured me anyway, mercilessly.

“Get her hands off that luscious body!” one of the men shouted. “We need to inspect the goods we’re buying, after all!”

Voices echoed in agreement.

“Yeah! Take her hands off!”

“Let us see what we’re bidding on!”

I staggered back as Vincenzo’s furious eyes locked onto mine. He lunged forward, grabbed my wrists, and yanked my arms apart.

He leaned into my ear, his breath harsh on my neck.

“If you don’t behave, I’ll chop your aunt’s head off. Do you understand me?”

I froze as terror gripped my insides.

My aunt... she may have sold me out, but she was still the only family I had left.

The only person who had ever stood by me.

So I obeyed.

I stood straighter, spine rigid, forcing myself not to flinch as I faced the crowd.

“Those breasts look juicy!” one man shouted.

“And those legs,” another leered, licking his lips. “I’d fuck her for days and still not get tired.”

Disgust crawled over my skin.

I scanned the room until I found him, the potbellied monster who had spoken.

Greasy brown hair. A face like a cow.

Then Vincenzo laughed.

“Dallio, for the right price,” he said smugly, “she could be yours.”

Another voice rose from the crowd, louder, meaner.

“I’ll be tasting the sweetness between her legs tonight! My revenge on that useless Lorenzo, who handed me to my enemies like trash!”

I stood there in disbelief. My vision blurred with tears. I refused to let fall.

My aunt was right. My father had enemies.

But I never realized how deep the hatred ran.

None of this was my fault.

My father kept me hidden in a small town with my aunt, isolated from the world.

No friends. No boys. No freedom.

He only let me attend university when I turned twenty, and only after years of arguments and begging.

He claimed it was for my protection.

Now…. I believed him.

But I hated him for it. Hated him for dying and leaving me alone in this cruel, filthy world.

I told myself to be brave.

Just one night. Just one night, and I’d survive.

Then my aunt and I would disappear, far, far away, with the twenty percent Vincenzo would pay us. Somewhere I wouldn’t have to sell myself just to stay alive.

I just had to make it through tonight. Even if it destroyed me.

“Let’s begin,” he announced.

“We’ll start the bidding at one hundred thousand.”

“ONE HUNDRED THOUSAND!” barked a voice from the front, thick, guttural.

It was him.

Dallio. The same man with the cow-like face. Sat smugly, raising his drink, the other hand gripping the armrest like he already believed he’d won.

“Two hundred thousand!” someone else shouted behind him.

The numbers started climbing. Fast.

“Three!”

“Three-fifty!”

“Four hundred!”

Voices layered on top of each other like wolves fighting for scraps.

I stood frozen, my body trembling, while they shouted out prices like I was cattle at an auction.

Tears burned behind my eyes again.

I bit down on my bottom lip until I tasted blood. I couldn’t cry. I couldn’t fall apart now.

This was really happening.

Any second now, I’d be sold.

And I’d lose everything.

Even my virginity, something I hadn’t even shared with someone I loved.

And it would go to one of these monsters.

Dallio raised his hand again, voice loud and gleeful. “Five hundred thousand!”

A chill swept over me.

My eyes darted to him. I scanned him thoroughly.

He was old. Short. Sweaty.

His round belly pushed against the buttons of his shirt, and when he grinned, those golden teeth gleamed.

He looked like a man who would swallow you whole and leave nothing behind.

Please, God, not him.

I scanned the rest of the room, hoping someone else would win.

Anyone but him.

But he kept going. He was relentless.

“Six hundred!”

“Seven!”

“Eight hundred thousand!”

Others challenged him, but he didn’t back down.

If anything, it thrilled him.

“Nine hundred!”

The room grew louder, but fewer voices joined in now.

Then he stood, puffed up like he’d already won.

“ONE MILLION!” he roared, arms raised in triumph.

A hush fell.

The other men grumbled. Some cursed. Others chuckled and backed down, tipping their glasses in surrender.

My heart sank.

This was it. My fate was sealed.

He spun toward the crowd, laughing, smug. “None of you bastards can top that, right?”

He pointed at me, triumphant.

“Lorenzo’s little brat... is mine!”

My vision blurred.

And then—

From the far end of the room, a voice cut through the air.

Deep. Smooth. Dangerous.

“Five million dollars.”

Everything stopped.

The room fell deathly silent.

Even Vincenzo’s smug expression shifted and his head turned toward the voice. “What…?”

My eyes widened in shock.

Five million...?

Who the hell would offer five million dollars just for a night with me?

My stomach twisted. My mind tried to calculate... twenty percent of five million...

That was one million dollars.

Enough to escape.

To run from this twisted world, from my father’s sins, from the people who saw me as something to own.

Enough to disappear with my aunt and start over.

And thank God it wasn’t that horrible, vicious man who would’ve surely torn me apart.

Vincenzo recovered, his face stretching into an even wider grin than before.

“Well, well...”

Disbelief flowed through me like a fever.

“Sold to Dante De Luca,” Vincenzo declared, banging a tiny gavel on the podium like he was officiating a game, not auctioning off a human life.

My heart stopped.

That name... It sounded familiar. I’d heard it before. I was sure of it.

But everything was spinning, too loud, too fast, my mind couldn’t place it.

I searched for him.

The man who had just bought me like I was nothing more than a luxury possession.

But the lights were too bright. Blinding.

I searched frantically. Desperate. Terrified.

I had to see him. To know who I belonged to now.

My eyes moved through the figures—and then I saw him.

Sitting in the farthest, darkest corner of the room, untouched by light.

Like he belonged to the shadows.

Still, composed, but radiating danger in the calmest, most terrifying way.

His jaw was sharp, clean-cut like sculpted stone.

His suit molded to his body with effortless elegance, hugging broad shoulders and a frame built for power.

Then his eyes met mine.

Cold. Intense.

A strange, unsettling feeling rushed through me, like something buried deep inside had suddenly risen to the surface.

Those eyes...

I knew those eyes.

The memory slammed into me like a freight train.

No! It couldn’t be.

But it was.

My knees nearly gave out.

My lungs stopped working.

It was him.

The man from the study.

The one with the gray eyes.

The one who pulled the trigger.

Dante De Luca.

The man who shot my father.

The man who destroyed my life.

Now, owned me.

: Bought My Enemies Daughter

Dante's POV

The moment our eyes met, it was sealed in blood, fate, and vengeance. She was going to be mine.

Lorenzo Giovanni’s daughter. Innocent. Untouched. She was the price, and I would collect in full.

She would carry her father’s punishment on that delicate, beautiful body.

And in time, she would beg for mercy, the same mercy he never showed when he murdered my wife, stole my mafia seat, and left my world in ruins, destroying everything I loved and everything I fought so hard to protect.

My men had been tracking her ever since the night we raided her father’s estate and she escaped with her aunt. Days passed, then the word came. Vincenzo had her, and she was being auctioned off to pay for her bastard father’s debt. That was all I needed... it was time.

She stood trembling, her skin glowing beneath the dim lighting. A slender waist gave way to soft curves and hips, leading down to long legs barely hidden beneath that thin, provocative excuse for a dress. She had the kind of body men killed for. This was the beauty Lorenzo tried to hide from the world. Too bad he failed.

My jaw clenched as I sat in the dark, watching beasts in tailored suits toss out numbers like they were bidding on meat. The worst of them, Diallo, was a bloated excuse for a man. He licked his lips as he shouted out bids. Every time his greedy eyes raked over her, I wanted to rip them out of his skull.

I should have looked away. I didn’t.

Mine.

The word echoed in my head over and over again. She was mine. And no amount of money or legacy would change that.

When I rose from my seat, the entire room quieted. She saw me. Our eyes met. I didn’t expect the heat, how fast and intense it came. Her face was innocent. Eyes wide. Terrified, yes, but I could also sense the defiance. Like part of her would rather die than surrender.

Good. I liked a little fire before I crushed it.

Her lips parted slightly, trembling. She stepped back, like she’d seen a ghost. And maybe she had. Because if she remembered the night I shot her father, she certainly remembered me.

The more I walked toward her, the clearer her face became... and fuck. She was stunning. Too stunning. And it infuriated me that she stood there, exposed, in front of those callous monsters who had only one thought in mind, to ruin her. But that was never going to happen. Because she was meant to be my retribution. Not theirs to ogle. Not theirs to claim.

Now, standing in front of her, every breath I took burned, not from hatred, but from a primal need. She looked so young. So fragile. But I didn’t care. I was a man consumed by vengeance. And I was far too gone to turn back now.

Vincenzo smirked from the stage. “Looks like Lorenzo’s brat is going home with you.”

I didn’t bother looking at him. “My men will handle the payment. I’m done here. She’s coming with me.”

I reached for her.

Then the pig barked.

“Not so fast.”

Diallo.

I turned slowly, gaze narrowing on his bloated, sweaty face. Of all the cowards in the room, he was the one foolish enough to challenge me.

“If none of these men have the balls to speak up,” he said smugly, “I will. You know the rules, De Luca. You don’t just buy the girl and walk out.”

He sneered, licking his dry, cracked lips.

“You fuck her in the viewing room, so we all get to watch.”

My chest tightened with fury. It took everything in me not to smash my fist into his face.

“You dare challenge me, Diallo?” I growled. “You filthy swine.”

He puffed his chest like the bloated pig he was. “If no one else will, I will. We all want a taste of Lorenzo’s precious little virgin. Just because you’re king of the seven territories doesn’t mean you get to keep all the fun for yourself.”

The crowd erupted in vicious chants. Their eyes moved back to Gianna, who stood frozen in fear.

I should have felt satisfied. But I didn’t. What I felt was something closer to rage, not at her, but at them. These men had no right to touch her. No right to even look at her.

Yes, I was going to break her. Yes, I was going to use her body strictly for my pleasure. But not in front of these animals. Never.

I turned to Vincenzo, who simply lifted his hands and shrugged. “Rules are rules, Dante. You know how it goes.”

There was no way I was going to claim her in front of them. The first time I took her would be on my terms. In my bed.

I looked down at her body, the lush swell of her breasts, the curve of her thighs, the way she fidgeted.

No. No one touches her.

Possession coursed through me like fire.

I turned to Vincenzo. “You know this is bullshit.”

He shrugged again, greedy eyes glinting. “Tradition, Don Dante. My hands are tied.”

Liar. Everything with Vincenzo had a price. Including this.

So I named mine.

“Ten million. Now.”

Vincenzo’s eyes widened. And just like that, he folded. “Sold. She’s yours. Get her out of here.”

I wasn’t surprised. Vincenzo was a greedy bastard. For men like him, tradition crumbled the second real money hit the table.

He turned to the crowd. “She’s been bought and paid for. Back off.”

The room exploded in noise. Chaos erupted as Vincenzo’s guards shoved men back.

“No. We want to watch.”

“She’s not yours alone, De Luca.”

“Tap that little cunt for the rest of us.”

That was Diallo again. His fat mouth flapped like he forgot who he was speaking to.

But I didn’t waste another second.

I walked straight to her. Her eyes widened as I grabbed her arm, warm, soft, trembling like a leaf, and yanked her toward me.

There was a spark when I touched her. Something electric. But I didn’t stop to question it.

I slung her over my shoulder as she yelped.

“No. No, where are you taking me?” she screamed. “Put me down. Let me go.”

Her fists pounded against my back as I carried her into the hallway.

“Where are you taking me? Let me go.”

Her screams grated on my nerves. I clenched my jaw. Ungrateful. Didn’t she realize I’d just saved her from a room full of predators?

Then she yelled, “Murderer.”

Of course she remembered. She saw me shoot her father. Saw the blood. Heard the gunfire from both me and my men. Her scream that night, raw and broken, still echoed in my mind. The way she looked at me, like I had ripped her world apart.

And I had.

She looked like she wanted to tear me limb from limb. She would have tried, if her aunt hadn’t dragged her away.

Now, her reaction made sense. But what she didn’t know was what I had planned for her.

She kicked again, and I stopped mid-step. My voice dropped into a growl. “What the fuck is wrong with you? I just saved your ass.”

Over my shoulder, she raged. “Saved me? You bought me, you savage. You’re no better than them.”

“Keep screaming,” I warned, “and I’ll find a way to punish that smart little mouth of yours.”

Her voice cracked with fury. “I know you. I know what you did. You’re the one who shot my father.”

I turned my head slightly as her words echoed through the air.

“You bought me to finish the job, didn’t you?”

She started screaming again, loud, desperate, as we stepped out into the cold night air.

“Help me.”

My men opened the car door. I tossed her inside the back seat like a ragdoll and climbed in after her.

She recoiled instantly, pressing herself into the door like it could swallow her whole.

“Don’t hurt me,” she whimpered. “I know who you are. You killed my father. And now you’re going to kill me.”

I gritted my teeth, voice low and vicious. “Don’t talk. Or I will shut you up. Permanently.”

She started pounding on the window with trembling hands.

“Help.”

Fucking hell. I knew she was a spoiled brat, but I hadn’t expected this.

My patience snapped. I reached for her, grabbing her wrists. Before she could scream again, I clamped a hand over her mouth. Her cries turned into muffled sobs, her eyes wide and wild with panic.

Then precisely, I pressed my fingers to the side of her neck, just beneath her jaw.

Her body jolted. And within seconds, she slumped in my arms.

I didn’t intend to hurt her. Not yet. I just needed silence.

Her body sagged against me, unconscious now. Peaceful. Too peaceful for the fire I knew lived inside her.

I stared at her for a long moment. She looked like an angel in my arms. An angel with the mouth of a viper.

It was going to be fun breaking and taming her. Because no matter how much she screamed, she belonged to me now.

And she was going to learn the hard way what it meant to surrender to me.

: Confronting My New Owner

Gia’s POV

My eyes blinked open, slow and heavy, stinging from the bright light as it settled in.

A cough slipped past my lips, rough and dry, like my throat had been scraped with sand.

My hand flew to my neck as a dull ache throbbed beneath the skin, my fingers brushing the sore spot.

And then it hit me.

The auction.

The man who reeked of death.

His hand over my mouth.

Me, passing out.

My eyes snapped open wide now.

And I saw him.

He sat across from me, one leg bent casually like this was a conversation, not a nightmare.

Just like before, his grey eyes locked on mine, piercing into every layer of my skin.

His expression showed no guilt, not even a hint that anything he did haunted him.

My chest tightened.

"You..." my voice cracked as I pushed myself upright, panic gripping my insides... "you tried to kill me."

He didn’t move. He didn’t even blink.

"Why did you bring me here?" I shouted, my voice rising.

My hand shot forward, finger pointed like it could burn a hole through his chest.

"Is this how you plan to wipe out the Giovanni name?"

My eyes darted around the room.

The living room was massive, high ceilings, gold décor...

But none of it mattered.

None of it felt real.

I scanned the space again, desperate for any window.

But the windows were buried behind heavy, creamy curtains, casting the entire room in a dim, oppressive gloom.

It felt like we were alone.

Just him and me.

And God, I feared for my life, that he’d kill me the same way he killed my father.

The light above burned too bright now, and there were no neon auction lights for him to hide behind.

I could finally see him clearly.

He wasn’t wearing the jacket from before.

Just a dark, fitted shirt clinging to his chest and arms, and black pants stretched over powerful thighs.

His hair was slicked back, a little messy. He looked too calm, like the chaos he’d caused didn’t matter.

He was tall. Clean-shaven. Cold.

Older, but in that maddening, dangerous way.

The kind that made your heart skip, both in fear and in admiration.

He leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees.

Then came the words, low and smug.

"Pretty doll, if I wanted to kill you, you’d already be dead."

That voice was deep and threatening.

Oh my God.

This man was a psycho.

How could he talk about killing someone like it was entertainment, something he did when he was bored?

There was no escape for me, so I had to try another strategy. Maybe I could appeal to his conscience, though I doubted he had one.

I sat up straighter.

"What more do you want from me?"

My voice trembled, but I didn’t stop.

"You killed my father. Isn’t that enough?"

The corner of his mouth lifted.

That same smug expression he wore at the auction.

He wasn’t even trying to deny it.

"You’re not going to lie?" I whispered. "You’re not even going to pretend you didn’t do it? I saw you. I saw the blood. I watched him fall. I watched you shoot him."

His face didn’t change.

Not even a trace of regret.

Just that look, like he was proud of it.

"Because he deserved it," he replied flatly. "Your father was the real monster. Death would’ve been too easy."

"Don’t you dare talk about him like that."

I lashed out, a raw instinct rising to defend the man I’d called father my whole life.

Even if some part of me was still scared...

Because I knew this man could kill me just as easily.

He raised an eyebrow.

"You really don’t know, do you?"

Silence.

His grin deepened.

"The kind of man he really was. The enemies he made. The blood he spilled. And you want to sit there and defend him like some little girl who doesn’t know what kind of world she was raised in?"

My dad was far from perfect, but he loved me, in his own way.

I remembered the nights he came home late and still read me bedtime stories.

How he’d kiss my forehead and call me his princess. How he promised to always protect me.

But I also remembered the locked doors.

The yelling behind them.

The bodyguards going in and out of rooms that were off-limits to me.

The months he never came home.

The fear in Aunt Camilla’s eyes when she thought I wasn’t looking.

She said he had enemies.

Maybe he’d just made one mistake.

Maybe he wasn’t the devil this man claimed.

"He wasn’t a monster," I whispered, though the words felt small now, like I was struggling to believe them myself.

He rose from his seat, his footsteps echoing as he came closer.

I backed into the couch, pressing my body as far as it could go, but it didn’t matter.

He already stood before me.

"People like your father always have two faces," he sneered.

"You only saw the version he wanted you to see."

His hand reached out, fingers brushing my cheek, slow and too warm for a killer.

A shiver tore through me, and I hated it.

So I turned my face away, ashamed that my body even responded to him.

But he didn’t let go.

He gripped my jaw, firm, tilting my face back to him.

His thumb dragged slowly from my cheek to the corner of my lips, parting them just slightly.

"This viper’s mouth of yours," he murmured, "I already told you, I’ll tame it... and put it to good use. Soon."

Fury surged through me and I slapped his hand away.

His eyes darkened.

Then his hand wrapped around my neck.

Not tight, but firm. Enough to still my breath and remind me exactly who held the power.

He yanked me forward until our faces nearly touched, his breath hot against my lips, burning through the small space between us.

It didn’t just warm my skin.

It awakened every nerve ending in my body.

"No one disrespects me," he gritted through clenched teeth. "Not the men who beg for mercy right before I put a bullet in their brains. Not the ones I bury alive. And definitely not you, pretty thing."

Fear shot through me, hearing the gruesome acts he had committed, but I couldn’t let it show.

"I don’t care," I shot back, voice shaking. "You killed my father. You took the only person I had left. How do you think that makes me feel?"

My throat tightened, and tears welled in my eyes despite how I fought to hold them back.

"Why?" I choked. "Why my dad? Why me?"

He stared at me.

Then he laughed wickedly.

"For revenge."

I blinked.

"What?"

"Your father took something from me," his voice was low and strained, as though a painful memory had just flashed in his head. "Something I can never get back."

"And this is how you repay him?" I asked, heart pounding. "By ruining the life of an innocent girl who knows nothing about any of this?"

"Oh no." He loosened his grip just slightly.

"This isn’t about ruining you."

His gaze locked onto mine, intense, piercing.

"This is about owning you."

It felt like the floor slipped out from under me.

I didn’t want to beg, but the thought of what the man who killed my father was capable of doing to me terrified every inch of my body.

"Please... let me go."

He tilted his head, eyes gleaming with dark satisfaction right before he released me.

I stumbled back, hands flying to my throat, massaging the tender spot where his fingers had pressed.

"Pretty doll," his voice was taunting, "I’m not letting you go. Not now. Not ever."

Then he smiled in a twisted way.

"I’ll take my revenge by punishing every inch of that body for one reason only... my pleasure."