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61- The First Test
Last Updated:
2025-03-11 02:47:59
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The conversation around the table continued, but I wasn't paying attention anymore. The voices of everyone blended into a meaningless hum as something else captured my awareness—a subtle shift in the atmosphere that prickled against my skin. I could feel him before I saw him. A new presence. A shift in the air that altered the energy of the entire room.It was subtle at first—the way the men at the table adjusted their posture, straightening almost imperceptibly in their seats. The way their laughter quieted just slightly, becoming more measured, more controlled. The way Dante's fingers, which had been idly tapping against his crystal glass, suddenly stilled. These minute changes spoke volumes. Whoever this man was, he mattered. He carried weight in this world I was still learning to navigate.I turned my head just as he approached, stepping into the warm glow cast by the ornate chandeliers overhead. The golden light seemed to accentuate everything about him—his height, his posture, t
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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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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
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Latest chapter
Ruined By Mafia 62- The Move
The conversation around the table continued, but I wasn't paying attention anymore. The voices of everyone blended into a meaningless hum as something else captured my awareness—a subtle shift in the atmosphere that prickled against my skin. I could feel him before I saw him. A new presence. A shift in the air that altered the energy of the entire room.It was subtle at first—the way the men at the table adjusted their posture, straightening almost imperceptibly in their seats. The way their laughter quieted just slightly, becoming more measured, more controlled. The way Dante's fingers, which had been idly tapping against his crystal glass, suddenly stilled. These minute changes spoke volumes. Whoever this man was, he mattered. He carried weight in this world I was still learning to navigate.I turned my head just as he approached, stepping into the warm glow cast by the ornate chandeliers overhead. The golden light seemed to accentuate everything about him—his height, his posture, t
Ruined By Mafia 61- The First Test
I continued before he could reply, knowing that maintaining momentum was crucial, that hesitation now would undermine the confidence I had projected. "Sometimes, it just means we're not what people expect." A careful answer, one that acknowledged the danger implied in his warning while suggesting that perhaps the danger applied more to others than to me. Not a claim of immunity or invulnerability, which would have been both false and foolish, but rather a subtle indication that I understood more than they might assume.A brief silence followed, heavy with assessment and consideration. The gray-eyed man's expression remained largely impassive, but there was something in his gaze now—a spark of interest, perhaps, or simply acknowledgment that this conversation had taken an unexpected turn. The others at the table watched with varying degrees of curiosity, their attention shifting between the gray-eyed man, Dante, and myself as they waited to see how this exchange would develop.Then—he
Ruined By Mafia 60- The First Test
I could feel the weight of their eyes on me, heavy and assessing, like physical pressure against my skin. Each gaze carried different intentions—some curious, others suspicious, a few openly hostile—but all shared the same underlying quality: calculation. Nothing and no one was viewed without first determining value, usefulness, or threat level. I was being cataloged, dissected, my worth measured in ways I couldn't fully comprehend. Their scrutiny raised goosebumps along my arms despite the warmth of the crowded room, a primitive response to predatory attention that no amount of composure could fully suppress.Watching. Calculating. Assessing my worth. These weren't casual observations born of idle curiosity. These were deliberate evaluations made by men who had built empires on their ability to read people, to identify weaknesses and strengths with a single glance. I could almost feel them stripping away layers of pretense, searching for the truth beneath the carefully constructed fa
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
Ruined By Mafia 57- The Warning
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
