CHAPTER 1

VENICE, ITALY.

—ALZNA

Where am I?

The thought echoed through my mind as I tried to make sense of the darkness surrounding me. My last memory was Kirill’s sneering face, his cruel words, the sharp prick of the needle, and then nothing.

Had he killed me?

No, this wasn’t an afterlife. It couldn’t be. The air was very thick with the acrid stench of alcohol and smoke and I could hear murmurs of people. This wasn’t hell, at least not the kind I’d imagined.

The shrieking sound of a microphone piercing the murmuring made me flinch.

“Greetings ladies and gentlemen, tonight, we offer more than just a prize. Tonight, we offer power. Tonight, we offer the legacy of one of the most feared syndicates in your world,” a voice said.

Murmurs rippled through the room.

“Feast your eyes on Catalina De Rossi, the daughter of Giacomo De Rossi, the untouchable Don of the Ravello Syndicate. The one who mocked you all, who swore no man would ever lay claim to his bloodline.”

Don? Wait…. Isn't that…. Mafia?! Where the fuck am I? Also, this accent doesn't sound Russian, it sounded more like…… an Italian accent. What the hell is happening?

A hand gripped my hair and the rough touch made my skin crawl.

I wriggled against the ropes as I fought to open my eyes, but they were covered and blindfolded. My arms strained against ropes that bit into my flesh, and my gag turned my screams into useless muffles.

“Here she is. Bound. Defenseless. At your mercy.”

Faint whispers wafted through the room.

Who the fuck is Catarina or whatever name they just called me and why the hell do they think I am her?

“This is no mere woman,” the voice continued. “She is the key to The Ravello Syndicate’s throne. The man who claims her tonight doesn’t just get a bride, he gets a ticket to supremacy, to respect, to vengeance against your most bitter enemy.”

The auctioneer’s voice became more icy.

“Bidding starts at fifty million euros. Prove your worth. Prove your ambition. Prove you have what it takes to own Catalina De Rossi.”

The words echoed through my skull. Panic surged through me as I twisted on the seat.

“Seventy million,” a voice called out.

Seventy……. What?

My stomach churned. This can’t be happening. I was being sold, auctioned off like a fucking antique. Not even as myself, but as her. Catalina. Whoever she was.

This was worse than death. Worse than any revenge Kirill could’ve devised. Why would he sell me off as another person? What the hell is going on?

“Hundred million,” a woman’s voice chimed in as if she were bidding on jewelry.

“One hundred and twenty million,” another voice added.

The ropes cut into my wrists as I twisted against them. My muffled screams died against the gag. My muscles burned, but I didn’t stop. I wouldn’t stop.

“Five hundred million euros,” The voice boomed across the room, deep and commanding, laced with coldness, and every voice in the room fell silent.

A ripple of gasps followed by murmurs. The room fell silent for a while.

The auctioneer cleared his throat, “The bid goes to Lord Marcello the Don, Congratulations sir!”

No, no, no! This has to be a mistake!

My throat burned as I fought to force the word I’m Alzna, not Catalina!

Are they blind? I thought bitterly. How could they not see I’m not her?

There was a loud murmur and voices of arguments and commotion and I wished I had laser eyes to poke holes through the blindfold, so I could see what was going on.

A sudden gunshot echoed through the air, and I let out a startled gasp. The room noise melted away, leaving an unsettling stillness.

My body tensed from where I sat.

“Bring her down,” He commanded.

Thudding footsteps approached me, the sound sent shivers down my spine. Rough hands grabbed my arms, yanking me forward like I was a mere object.

I fought against their grip, twisting and pulling, and my muffled screams choked at my throat, and the more I struggled, the tighter their grip became.

I stumbled as they dragged me off what felt like a high platform.

We stopped abruptly, and before I could struggle again, a hand pressed my chin.

“Keep making those pathetic noises, and you’ll regret having a voice,” the familiar voice was smooth, but it made the hairs on my skin stand, which made me realize he wasn't bluffing.

My heart slammed against my ribs as I tried to steady my breath.

Calm down, Alzna. Use your brain. Just keep quiet. Play along. When you’re outside, show them you need to talk. Once they listen, tell them you’re not Catalina De Rosta. Convince them they’ve made a mistake. They’ll let you go, okay?

I held onto this hope, which was my last chance.

The air changed, it was cooler and fresher. We were outside.

“Sir, should we take her to your house or the base?” one of the men asked.

“The base,” he replied.

Mmmph! Mmmph! I grunted, desperate to get their attention. I jabbed a finger toward my gag, signaling that I needed to speak. I strained against the ropes, using my throat to form sounds through the gag. “Mmm… please… I need… to talk!”

There was a pause.

“Take off the gag,” he ordered.

Relief flooded me as one of them untied the cloth from my mouth. The moment it loosened, I gasped for air, coughing as I inhaled.

“Listen, I’m not…….”

Before I could finish, a sharp sting pierced my neck. My words got stuck in my throat, and my stability was weary. My vision blurred as darkness crept in, but not before I forced out one last, slurred whisper.

“Fucking… bastard…”