CHAPTER 5. PAY ME BACK?

What?

I stopped in my tracks, shock tightening around me like a vice. What does he mean by that? Why is he telling me not to thank him?

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. I had begged him, practically pleaded for him to buy me, thinking I could negotiate a refund afterward. And now, standing here, I found myself speechless, my lips slightly parted, unable to form the words swirling in my mind.

The way he looked at me. So unreadable, so detached, sent an uneasy chill down my spine. I wanted to understand him, to grasp whatever he was thinking, but it felt like I was staring into a void.

"Because in two hours, you'll regret ever begging me to buy you."

Two hours?

A shudder ran through me. What could possibly happen in two hours?

I wasn’t sure how long I stared at him, my thoughts a tangled mess, but nothing made sense. My mind refused to catch up.

"Get her to the car, Lissa."

His sharp voice cut through my daze like a blade. I inhaled sharply, suddenly aware of the way my body trembled. When I had approached him, I had sensed the power he carried, but had I been too desperate to see the danger lurking beneath his exterior?

Why hadn’t I noticed before?

He turned away, his steps purposeful, uninterested. It was only then, when he moved as if I were nothing but an afterthought, that reality slammed into me.

"Wait!" I called after him, my voice laced with confusion.

He halted.

I didn’t know why, but he did. And without thinking, I rushed toward him, closing the small gap he had put between us in mere seconds.

The red-haired woman, Lissa, he had called her—stopped too, though it was obvious she only did so because he had.

He said nothing, just tilted his head slightly, his jaw clenching. The air around him felt heavier, thicker, and I knew I was already pushing my luck. I wasn’t trying to be difficult, but for what it was worth, I needed answers.

"I… I mean, I don’t understand what—"

"Lissa will help you understand whatever you need, Evadne."

It was ridiculous. Completely absurd. But the way my name rolled off his tongue sent an inexplicable sensation through me, something I had no time to analyze. I shoved the thought aside. Focus.

"I get it. I get it, Mr. Mafia. But don’t you think we need to talk?" My voice was firm despite the racing of my heart. "I mean, you didn’t buy me just to—" I gestured toward the auction floor we had just left. "—turn me into one of them, right?"

I squared my shoulders, determination pushing away my hesitation. "I expected us to discuss how I’ll pay you back."

That should do it. He needed to understand I wasn’t going to be whatever it was he had planned in his head.

But instead of responding, he just stared at me, his silence stretching long enough to make my stomach twist. The way he looked at me, completely unreadable, made it impossible to tell if we were on the same page.

I wanted to believe we were. He hadn’t bought me because he wanted to. He bought me because I begged him to. So what the hell did he mean when he said I’d regret it in two hours?

I was going to pay him back.

No one buys me. He had just loaned me the money.

But then again… twenty million dollars isn’t something anyone just throws away.

How the hell did the bidding go from four million to twenty million? Is he some... well, he's a syndicate, probably making his money with blood-stained hands. I can totally see how dropping that kind of cash wouldn't even faze him.

I had no idea how I was going to get that kind of money, but I’d find a way—somehow.

I mean, if I could just get my art…

My stomach churned as the reality hit me. My parents. I hadn’t even had time to properly think about them, and now that thought gnawed at me, heavy and suffocating.

But before I could process anything more, the Mafia turned toward me. I met his gaze, my heart skipping a beat. I half-expected to see that glint in his eyes, that mocking look. His voice cut through the air again.

“Pay me back?”

Yeah, I totally understood how impossible that sounded. But still, we had to figure out some kind of arrangement, right?

“Yes.” My voice came out stronger than I felt. “I know it sounds absurd, sir, but I can work for you—do chores, anything.”

“And that’s worth the money?” He sounded genuinely amused. “You plan on paying me back for eternity?”

I looked away, unable to keep meeting his gaze. There was something about the way he looked at me, something that made me feel exposed, as if his eyes were reaching deep into my soul. Every word he spoke felt like a force, like it was striking me personally.

I could do anything to pay him back, as long as it didn’t involve becoming some kind of… savage sex slave. Just the thought made me sick to my stomach, a queasy feeling rising up at the back of my throat. The tingling sensation wasn’t excitement. It was dread. The desire to cry was real.

“I’ll fig—”

“Listen, Evadne.”

God. My heart dropped again at the sound of his voice. It wasn’t just unsettling; it was final. Cold. The kind of voice that scared the shit out of me.

I wanted to look him in the eye, but I couldn’t. Not with that dangerous tone reminding me of how he’d sounded when he killed the man who had touched me earlier. So, instead, I stared at the chain around my wrist, the metal biting into my skin as I nervously chewed on my lip.

I heard him inhale, his breath steady but heavy. “I don’t save. I’m never the knight in shining armor.”

The intensity in his voice made my body tremble, forcing my eyes to meet his. The heat from his gaze burned through me.

“I…”

He raised a finger, silencing me before I could speak.

“No one speaks while I talk…”

He took a few steps closer, closing the distance between us, and the instinct to run surged through me. The amusement that had danced in his eyes now shifted to something far darker. Dangerous. Predatory.

I instinctively took a step back, my throat instantly dry as a chill ran down my spine. The only other time I had felt this cold was during a near-death encounter when I was fifteen.

“I bought you. I own you.” His voice was low, deliberate, his gaze never leaving mine. “You can't pay me back. Not in a lifetime. You exist, breathe, and eat for me.”

I swallowed, but it wasn’t just fear, it was dread, gnawing at me.

"As long as she’s fortunate enough to not get caught in the Reaper’s web, she’s lucky.”

Cyril’s voice echoed in my mind, and I instinctively took another step back, away from the Mafia’s menacing stare. Now I understood why they called him the Reaper. I’d encountered his kind once before, when I nearly died at fifteen.

His lips twisted into something that could never be mistaken for a smile as he slipped his hand back into his pocket. With one final stride, his gaze still burned into me. “Lissa.”

He didn’t call her as a request. It was a command, and she understood it without hesitation.

“Alright, Mietitore.”

One last glance, and he walked away, daring me to stop him again, to try and renegotiate my impossible payment.

My pulse raced as I watched him leave, my lips pressed together as they trembled, my hands shaking. And for the hundredth time since this nightmare began, the weight of my family’s death hit me, a fresh wave of grief crashing over me.

Lissa, the red-haired woman, walked over to me. Her gaze was cold, but not threatening—just... detached.

“I told you already. Mietitore doesn’t buy. He owns.”

I raised my head to meet her eyes, only then realizing that tears were streaming down my face. Raw pain. Raw hatred.

“I’m not one to be owned!” I gritted my teeth, the words tearing at my heart. The idea of living without freedom was suffocating. My family was gone, leaving me utterly alone. I’d never imagined a life without them. I never thought I would wake up to find them gone... let alone be sold off to this monster.

Cyril had warned me not to get caught in the Reaper’s web. I could have avoided him, but I begged him. Now, I understood why he bought me for such an outrageous price. To ensure I could never leave.

Was this what Lissa meant by "owning" and not buying?

“For your sake, dear, you shouldn’t say that to his face.”

“Why?” I scoffed. “Are you also one of his flimsy possessions? Are you—”

She stared at me, a mixture of anger and pity crossing her face. “The only one who’s Mietitore’s property right now, my dear, is you.”