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58- Thrown into the Fire
Last Updated:
2025-03-09 01:05:38
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Ruined By Mafia 59- Thrown into the Fire
We approached the entrance, where two men in dark suits stood with the perfect stillness of those trained to become part of the scenery until needed. Their eyes flicked to Dante, recognition immediate, respect or fear—perhaps both—evident in the subtle inclination of their heads. Then their gaze shifted to me, assessing, cataloging, memorizing. In their world, unknown elements were threats until proven otherwise, and I was very much an unknown.The doors opened before us, revealing a foyer of marble and crystal, of art worth more than most people would see in a lifetime. The space was designed to overwhelm, to remind visitors of their place in the hierarchy before they even reached the main gathering. It was psychological warfare disguised as decoration, and even knowing its purpose didn't diminish its effectiveness.The moment we entered, I felt it. The shift in the air. The subtle change in atmospheric pressure that came not from weather but from power—from the awareness of predator
Last Updated : 2025-03-09Ruined By Mafia 1- A World Divided
I could feel their eyes on me, even as I crossed the courtyard, pretending I didn’t notice the whispers. It wasn’t anything new. I was used to it—the stares, the occasional shove, the hushed comments that followed me like a shadow. Being an outsider in my own home had become second nature, but it still stung, no matter how much I tried to ignore it.“Hey, freak,” a voice called from behind, sharp and familiar. I froze, gripping my books a little tighter, but didn’t turn around. Not today. Not again.“You deaf, Carter?” That voice. Brady Thompson. Of course it was him. I forced myself to keep walking, each step heavier than the last.“Hey!” His hand clamped onto my shoulder, and I winced, my heart hammering against my ribs. He spun me around, the hard edge of his smirk slicing through the crowd that had started to gather.“Didn’t you hear me, or are you too stupid to know when someone’s talking to you?”I lifted my chin, meeting his gaze, even though my knees felt like they’d buckle an
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The car’s silence was suffocating, broken only by the faint hum of the engine as we sped down the road. My heart pounded so loudly in my chest that I was sure they could hear it. I had never been so aware of my own breathing—shallow, uneven, as I tried to keep it under control. But every time I glanced at *him*, at Dante Ricci, my pulse spiked again.I wasn’t sure if it was fear or the cold, disinterested way he looked at me, like I wasn’t even worth the air I was breathing. His presence was suffocating, like a predator calmly watching its prey, waiting for the right moment to strike. My mind raced for answers, anything that could get me out of this situation. But I had nothing. No plan, no escape. Just the terror that was freezing my limbs in place.“Where are you taking me?” My voice barely came out, trembling and fragile.Dante’s eyes flickered toward me for a brief second before shifting back to the window. His jaw clenched, but he said nothing.“I—I didn’t see anything,” I presse
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“I—” I swallowed hard, my voice barely more than a whisper. “I don’t know how to be strong in your world. But I can learn.”Dante stared at me, his expression unreadable. For a moment, there was nothing but silence between us, heavy and suffocating. Then, slowly, a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.“We’ll see.”The smirk that curled on Dante’s lips made my stomach twist. It wasn’t the kind of smile that promised safety or reassurance. It was a challenge. A cold, merciless dare that sent shivers down my spine. Every part of me screamed to run, to escape, but there was nowhere to go. I was trapped in this dark, unfamiliar world, and now my life hung on his judgment.“We’ll see?” I repeated, my voice trembling. “What does that mean?”“It means,” Dante said, his tone casual, almost bored, “that I’m giving you a chance. You’re weak now, but you want to prove me wrong? Then do it. Show me you have some worth.”I swallowed hard. “How?”He stepped closer, his tall frame casting a shadow
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I stood frozen in the doorway of the grand entrance hall, staring at the opulence that surrounded me. The floors gleamed, polished to perfection, and the high ceilings arched above like the inside of a cathedral. Everything was immaculate, from the sweeping staircase to the ornate chandelier hanging overhead. It was beautiful, yes, but there was something unnerving about it—like a gilded cage, more prison than palace.The driver nudged me forward. “Move.”My legs, stiff and unwilling, finally obeyed, and I stepped inside. The cold marble beneath my feet sent a shiver up my spine. The grandeur of the place only amplified how out of place I felt. Everything was too clean, too pristine, like it hadn’t been touched in years. My fingers grazed the edge of the bannister as I walked, but I quickly pulled my hand back. I didn’t belong here. The driver walked ahead of me, his steps steady, a clear contrast to the hesitant shuffle of my own. I followed him down a hallway, long and lined with c
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**Dante's POV**I closed the door behind me, the quiet click of the latch settling in the otherwise still house. Her scent lingered in the hallway, faint but undeniable—a mixture of fear and something softer, something that shouldn’t have piqued my interest, but it did. I clenched my fists, pushing the thought aside.I didn’t need this distraction. Not now.The girl—Elena. She wasn’t supposed to matter. She was an inconvenience. A problem that should have been handled the moment she saw too much. But instead of dealing with her, I let her live. Why?I stalked down the hallway, the sound of my footsteps echoing off the marble floors. My mind was racing, trying to grasp at a reason, an explanation that didn’t make me sound like I was losing control. I wasn’t. I *couldn’t* be. Control was everything. I’d built my entire life around that one principle—control over my men, control over my enemies, and most importantly, control over myself.So why did I hesitate when it came to her?When I
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Elena’s POVThe door creaked open, and I tensed, sitting up straighter on the edge of the bed. My stomach had been gnawing at me for hours, and the scent of food from the tray sitting on the table still made my mouth water, but I couldn’t bring myself to eat. Every bite felt like I’d be giving in, like accepting what this place was.The girl from earlier—quiet and ghostlike—stepped into the room again, a new tray in her hands. She didn’t look at me. Just set the tray down on the table next to the one from before and turned to leave without a word.“Wait,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. She stopped, her hand on the door, but she didn’t turn around.I swallowed, my throat dry. “What is this place?” I didn’t know why I asked. Maybe it was the silence. Maybe I just needed to hear something that wasn’t my own thoughts spiraling out of control.The girl paused, but she didn’t answer. She slipped out, the door clicking shut behind her, leaving me with nothing but the distant hum of
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I didn’t sleep that night. I tried, lying there in the oversized bed with its heavy blankets, but every time I closed my eyes, I saw his face. Cold, calculating, watching me like I was just another problem to solve. The words he left me with echoed in my mind.“Tomorrow, you’ll see what it means to live in my world.”I didn’t know what that meant, but it filled me with dread. What did he expect me to do? Fight? Survive? I was just a college student. I wasn’t built for this—whatever *this* was. But that didn’t seem to matter to Dante. In his world, either you adapted or you died. He made that abundantly clear.When the first light of dawn slipped through the cracks of the heavy curtains, I finally gave up trying to sleep and sat up. My body felt stiff, my muscles tight from the tension I carried all night. I rubbed my face with both hands, trying to shake off the exhaustion that clung to me.A soft knock on the door startled me, and I froze. The knock came again, more insistent this ti
Last Updated : 2025-01-09
Latest chapter
Ruined By Mafia 59- Thrown into the Fire
We approached the entrance, where two men in dark suits stood with the perfect stillness of those trained to become part of the scenery until needed. Their eyes flicked to Dante, recognition immediate, respect or fear—perhaps both—evident in the subtle inclination of their heads. Then their gaze shifted to me, assessing, cataloging, memorizing. In their world, unknown elements were threats until proven otherwise, and I was very much an unknown.The doors opened before us, revealing a foyer of marble and crystal, of art worth more than most people would see in a lifetime. The space was designed to overwhelm, to remind visitors of their place in the hierarchy before they even reached the main gathering. It was psychological warfare disguised as decoration, and even knowing its purpose didn't diminish its effectiveness.The moment we entered, I felt it. The shift in the air. The subtle change in atmospheric pressure that came not from weather but from power—from the awareness of predator
Ruined By Mafia 58- Thrown into the Fire
The car rolled to a stop, the hum of the engine fading into silence. The transition from movement to stillness was jarring, marking the end of whatever sanctuary the journey had provided. Through the tinted windows, I could see the blurred outlines of other vehicles, sleek and black like ours, their polished surfaces reflecting the golden glow emanating from the mansion. Each one carried someone who could destroy lives with a single command, who navigated this world of shadows and power with the ease of those born to it.For a long moment, I didn't move. My fingers remained clasped tightly in my lap, the knuckles white with tension despite my attempts to appear composed. I drew in a slow, measured breath, trying to steady the rapid beating of my heart, to quiet the voice in my head screaming that I wasn't ready for this—that I would never be ready for this.Beyond the tinted glass, the world I wasn't ready for awaited me. A realm of predators and prey, of calculated moves and devastat
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Dante didn't move for a long moment after his last words, simply standing there, sipping his whiskey with a patience that was both calculated and unnerving. The amber liquid caught the light as he tilted the crystal tumbler, his dark eyes never leaving mine, gauging my reaction with that perpetual air of amusement that seemed permanently etched into his features. The silence stretched between us, heavy with unspoken threats and promises, the weight of it pressing against my chest until I could barely breathe.Then—without a word—he extended his arm toward me. A silent command.I stared at it. At him. My heart hammered against my ribs with such force I was certain he could hear it, the pounding rhythm betraying the calm façade I fought desperately to maintain. But I kept my expression unreadable, years of practice allowing me to hide the storm building inside me behind a mask of indifference. My fingers trembled slightly at my sides, and I curled them into fists to still the motion bef
Ruined By Mafia 56- Dressing for Power
The moment I stepped into the hallway, I saw her. A maid stood just outside, waiting. Her eyes, when they met mine, held none of the pity or concern one might expect. There was only a cool assessment, an evaluation that seemed to penetrate beyond the expensive dress and careful makeup.Her posture was perfectly composed, hands folded neatly in front of her. She didn't look at me like a girl about to enter a world of wolves. There was no sympathy in her gaze, no silent communication of solidarity or concern. Instead, she regarded me with a detached respect that was somehow more unsettling than any pity could have been.She looked at me like I was already one of them. Like the transformation was complete, the metamorphosis from ordinary girl to Dante's creation already accomplished. Her eyes held the recognition of a fellow predator, not the wariness reserved for prey. I didn't know whether to feel flattered or horrified by what she saw in me.Without a word, she turned, beginning to wa
Ruined By Mafia 55- Dressing for Power
I ran my hands down the sides of my dress, smoothing out the material, feeling the weight of what it meant. The velvet was cool beneath my fingertips, luxurious and heavy—much like the burden I was about to bear. Every stitch, every fold of fabric represented another layer of the facade I was forced to wear. The dress hugged my figure perfectly, a testament to Dante's attention to detail, even in his methods of control. Nothing in his world was left to chance, especially not my appearance on a night like this.Marco's words from earlier echoed in my mind, cutting through the silence of the room like shards of glass. His warnings had been delivered in that clipped, matter-of-fact tone he always used—the voice of someone who had seen too much and survived only by learning the rules quickly."You're not going there to speak. You're going there to listen."His dark eyes had been intense, boring into mine with an urgency that made my skin prickle. There had been no kindness in his instruct
Ruined By Mafia 54- Preparing for the Event
My footsteps echoed in the empty hallway as the maid escorted me back to my room. Each step felt like it weighed a hundred pounds, my exhaustion creeping through my veins like a slow poison. The training session had been particularly brutal today, leaving every muscle in my body screaming in protest. The marble floor beneath my feet seemed to stretch endlessly ahead, its polished surface reflecting the soft golden light from the crystal chandeliers hanging above.As the maid opened the door to my room, my gaze swept over the large space, my eyes immediately locking onto the elaborate display of dresses laid out on the bed. A selection of gowns—rich in color, fabric, and style—stretched across the fabric, each one seemingly more beautiful than the last. The intricate lacework, the velvet, and satin gleamed under the soft light coming from the crystal chandelier above me. A feeling of unease twisted in my stomach, an unsettling reminder of the event I was expected t
Ruined By Mafia 53- The Training
The sun climbed higher in the sky as we continued, casting shorter shadows across the training ground. Time seemed to stretch and contract, measured only by the count of bullets spent, the mechanical action of reloading when the magazine emptied.By the time Antonio finally lowered my arm, my muscles ached, my hands numb from the repeated recoil. My ears rang slightly despite the protection we wore. The wooden target was riddled with bullet holes, some closer to the center than others, a visual record of my progress over the hours we'd spent here.I had improved.But I didn't feel victorious. There was no satisfaction in becoming better at dealing death, even if it was only to a wooden board. The ease with which I now handled the weapon was disturbing—a reminder of how quickly one could adapt to violence, how the unthinkable could become routine with enough repetition.I lowered the gun, staring at it in my hands. The cold metal still felt foreign, unwelcome. No matter how many times
Ruined By Mafia 52- The Training
The cold concrete floor sent a chill up my spine as I shifted my stance, barely managing to stay upright. My breath came in ragged gasps, my muscles screaming in protest, but Antonio didn’t relent. He never did.“Again,” he commanded, his voice sharp, unwavering.I swallowed hard, adjusting my footing. The bruises littering my body throbbed with every movement, a painful reminder of how many times I had already been knocked down. My arms felt like lead, my legs unsteady, but I wasn’t about to give up. Not in front of him.Antonio circled me like a predator assessing its prey. His dark eyes were calculating, unwavering in their scrutiny. “You’re too slow,” he remarked. “Too predictable.”I bit the inside of my cheek, forcing myself to stay focused. I had to block. I had to react faster. I had to stop ending up on the ground. He lunged, his fist cutting through the air, aimed straight for my face. Instinctively, I raised my arms in a weak attempt to shield myself, but he was faster. His
Ruined By Mafia 51- The Training Begins
A harsh, relentless pounding on the door yanked me from the fragile grip of sleep. My body jerked awake, heart hammering as I struggled to process where I was. The room was still cloaked in darkness, the only light coming from the faint glow of the bedside lamp I had forgotten to turn off. For a fleeting second, I thought maybe it was a dream, a cruel trick of my exhausted mind. But the knocking came again, harder this time, rattling the doorframe.“Elena,” Marco’s voice was sharp, impatient. “Get up.”I groaned, pressing my palms against my eyes as the dull ache in my body registered all at once. Every muscle throbbed from the events of the past few days—tense encounters, sleepless nights, and worst of all, the weight of my past. My body wasn’t ready for this. My mind wasn’t ready for this. But none of that mattered. Not in this world.I forced myself upright, wincing as my stiff limbs protested the movement. “What time is it?” My voice was hoarse, barely more than a whisper.“Five,”
