Semua Bab My Mafia Savior: Bab 51 - Bab 60

By the time Antonio and I got back to the estate, I was beyond exhausted. The only thing keeping me standing was pure adrenaline. "Joseph, you need to rest," Antonio said, his voice thick with concern. "Rest? How can I rest?" I snapped. "My wife is out there, pregnant with my child, and all we have is a boat that's been turned into a floating morgue." Antonio sighed heavily. "We'll find her," he assured me, his own eyes filled with a steely determination. "But you're no good to her if you're dead." I knew he was right, but the thought of Selena in the hands of those monsters was eating me alive. I stumbled into my office, the room where I had made countless deals and taken so many lives, and slammed the door shut. I needed to think, to plan, to find a way to get her back. "If I don't have her Antonio, I might as well be dead. She taught me how to live life. She is carrying my child. I promised her that I would protect her and I have failed her." Antonio nodded, understandi

I lay on the bed, my body trembling with the aftershocks of what had just happened. The dress felt like a prison, sticking to my damp skin. I needed to get out of these clothes, out of this room, out of this nightmare. With shaking hands, I untied the dress and let it fall to the floor. The fabric pooled around my feet, a sad reminder of the violation I had just endured. I stepped into the shower, the water scalding my skin as I tried to wash away the doctor's touch. I scrubbed until my skin was red and raw, the tears mixing with the water as they streamed down my face. When the hot water turned cold, I stepped out, wrapping a towel around my shivering body. I felt exposed, like every inch of me had been laid bare. I needed to find a way out of here, to escape this hellhole. Our baby deserved a future, and I would not let anyone take that away from us. I sat on the bed, my eyes scanning the room for any hint of a way out. The walls were bare, the window too high to reach,

I never thought I could feel like a slave, but that is what I have become. Torres enjoys humiliating me every chance he gets. I walk around naked more than I have on clothes. Torres has been true to his word so far. No one has laid a hand on me, except for him. His touch is cold and calculated, as if he's trying to claim me in a way that goes beyond the physical. The other men in the house are allowed to look but not touch. It's like I'm a piece of meat in a butcher's window, displayed for all to see but only the highest bidder can take home. But even as I follow his rules, I'm planning. I have to find a way out of here. For the baby. Every night, after Torres has visited, I lie in the darkness, my thoughts racing. The room is cold, and I pull the covers tighter around my body, feeling the soft swell of my stomach. The baby kicks, a reminder of the life that grows inside me, a life that deserves a chance at happiness, not a future in this hellish world. I want better for he

I am over halfway through my pregnancy, and it terrifies me to think of having my baby here. I hate being held prisoner. I did not want the same fate for my baby. I was being raped daily by Torres. I had tried so hard to just block out every thrust and every ounce of pain that he would inflict on me. He enjoyed giving me pain and I have the marks to prove it. As I lay in bed, my belly aching from his rough treatment, I hear a faint whisper. "Selena, it's Anna." I sat up, my eyes searching the darkness. "What is it?" "I found out something," she whispered urgently. "They're having an auction really soon here at the house." My heart sank. I knew what that meant. I had seen the way Torres looked at me, the way he talked about me to his men. I was going to be sold. "When?" I asked, trying to keep the fear out of my voice. "In two days," Anna said, her own voice shaking. "What can we do?" I whispered, my heart racing. Two days. That was all the time we had before I would be han

Standing on this stage on display was so humiliating. I have had to endure Torres being inside of me every night and now I will go to some man that will most likely be worse. The auctioneer called for bids on me, and the room grew quiet, but it was like the silence before the storm. The anticipation was thick, and I could almost taste it in the air. The first bid came in, and it was high. I was worth a fortune to these perverts. The bids grew higher, and I felt a strange sense of pride that I was worth so much to them. As the numbers climbed, so did my anxiety. The thought of leaving this stage and going to some stranger's arms made me sick. The bidding grew frantic, hands shooting up in the air, each bid a declaration of ownership over my body and my unborn child. My heart skipped a beat when I heard the final price called out. Five million dollars. For me. It was an astronomical sum that seemed to echo the gravity of the situation. The room was tense, the silence so thick y