His Mafia Possession

Avery There was something eerie about the silence in the air as I walked home. A heavy stillness, like the world was holding its breath and waiting for something to break. I tightened my grip on the strap of my backpack and kept moving, the sun dipping below the horizon, casting long shadows across the street. The house came into view-our small, two-bedroom place tucked at the edge of the neighborhood. My safe place. Except... something was wrong. The front door was wide open. My heart dropped into my stomach. Dad never left the door open. Never.

I hesitated on the porch, my hand hovering over the doorknob like it might bite me. "Dad?" I called out. No response. I stepped inside slowly, one foot at a time, my heartbeat echoing in my ears. It looked like a war had happened in our living room. Cushions were ripped from the couch and thrown across the floor. Picture frames shattered on the ground, broken glass glittering like ice in the dim light. The TV was smashed. A lamp lay in pieces beside the bookshelf, and all the drawers in the cabinet were hanging open, their contents spilled like guts onto the floor. "Dad?" My voice cracked. I dropped my backpack with a soft thud and moved deeper into the house, trying not to let panic overtake me. Every step I took made my legs feel heavier. The kitchen was worse-chairs overturned, the table flipped on its side. Cabinets stood open, plates and glasses shattered across the tile. My shoes crunched on something, and I looked down. Blood. A small smear of red, almost dried, just beside the fridge. I clamped a hand over my mouth, the sting of bile rising in my throat. No. No, no, no. This wasn't real. This was some kind of twisted nightmare. I stumbled back into the living room, gasping for air, when I heard it-the sharp crack of the floorboard behind me. I spun around just in time to see the first figure emerge from the hallway. Then another. And another. There were four of them. All dressed in black. All wearing masks. "W-who are you?!" I screamed, backing into the wall. My knees buckled. "What do you want?!" None of them answered. One of them moved too quickly for me to react. A thick arm wrapped around my waist, hoisting me up like I weighed nothing. "No! Let me go!" I kicked and screamed, trying to twist away. My fists slammed against his chest, but it was like punching a brick wall. "Sedate her," a deep voice barked. I didn't see the needle, only felt the sharp sting at my neck a second later. Burning. Cold. I blinked hard, my head spinning. Everything blurred. The faces twisted in my vision. I heard my own voice screaming-fading-slowing. Darkness came fast, drowning me in silence. I woke up to movement. The world tilted and rocked, and for a second, I thought I was dreaming. Then I felt the rough floor beneath me. Heard the low hum of an engine. Smelled gasoline, leather, and something sharp-like sweat and metal. My hands were bound behind my back. A blindfold covered my eyes. My mouth was taped shut. Panic erupted in my chest like wildfire. I thrashed, trying to sit up, but something-or someone-shoved me back down. "Easy, ragazza," a gruff voice said in an accent I couldn't place. "You'll tire yourself out before the boss even gets to see you." Boss? I tried to scream. My voice came out muffled, desperate. My throat burned. My heart was pounding so hard it felt like it might tear through my chest. Where was I? Where was my dad? What the hell was happening? I stayed like that for what felt like hours, the van rocking as it moved. Every second stretched endlessly. My wrists were raw from the rope. My tears soaked the blindfold. Eventually, the van stopped. Doors creaked open. Heavy boots stomped against the ground. The doors behind me were yanked open, and I was pulled out like a sack of potatoes, tossed over someone's shoulder. I screamed into the tape, kicked with everything I had left, but it was useless. They carried me through what sounded like a metal door, footsteps echoing down a hallway. The air smelled like cold marble and cigar smoke. Who were these people? Why me? I was dumped into a chair. The blindfold ripped off. The sudden light made my eyes water. I blinked, squinting, trying to focus. I was in a room. Large. Lavish. Dimly lit with gold chandeliers and crimson walls. Like something out of a mafia movie. And there he was. A man standing at the far end of the room, his back turned toward me as he poured dark liquid into a crystal glass. He turned slowly. Cool. Calm. Dangerous. His suit was tailored perfectly to his broad frame, his black shirt unbuttoned at the top just enough to show a sliver of his tattooed chest. He had sharp cheekbones, dark hair, and eyes so cold they made my blood freeze. He looked at me like I wasn't even human. Like I was a thing. An object. "Remove the tape," he ordered. One of the masked men stepped forward and yanked the tape from my mouth. I gasped, coughing, my lips raw. "Please," I whispered. "Please... just tell me what's going on." The man took a slow sip of his drink, then walked toward me, each step deliberate. "You don't need to understand right now," he said, his voice smooth but edged with steel. "You only need to accept." "Accept what?" I croaked. "Where's my dad? What did you do to him?" His eyes narrowed slightly, a flicker of something passing through them-contempt? Pity? He crouched in front of me, his face inches from mine. "You've been taken, Avery Coleman," he said. "Because your father owes a debt he can never repay." I froze. "What-what debt? What are you talking about?" He reached out and traced a finger along my cheek. And then he smiled. Dark. Cruel. Possessive. "You belong to me now."