The Mafia's Truce.

Rescue orMoreToment

Maria stood outside the towering glass doors of Alexander Valtor's mansion, her heart hammering in her chest as she and Anthony waited for the guards to finish their search. She could feel the weight of the call, the panic in the girl's voice, pressing down on her. When the guards finally waved them through, they wasted no time, hurrying up the marble steps that gleamed under the Chicago sky.

Inside the mansion, Alexander sat behind his polished oak desk. He was having a conversation with Mr. Ronaldo, his ever-loyal advisor, but was interrupted by the knock at the door.

“Come in,” Alexander said.

A maid walked in.

“Maria and Anthony are here to see you, Sir”

Alexander signalled them in.

His eyes settled on Anthony. “It had better be important,” he said.

Anthony met his gaze evenly. “Sir, we have reason to believe your daughter has been taken.”

For a moment, there was nothing. Silence. Then Alexander’s lips curled into a smile, a mocking laugh escaping him. “Taken? By whom? Who would dare?”

Anthony gestured for Maria to speak. She swallowed hard, knowing the gravity of the moment. “A girl called, sir. She said that Nadia, your daughter, has been kidnapped.” Her voice wavered, but she forced herself to hold Alexander’s gaze.

Ronaldo dismissed it with a wave of his hand. “A prank, surely. No one would be foolish enough to target your daughter.”

Alexander smirked, leaning back in his chair, but his amusement didn't reach his eyes. “A costly prank indeed.” He turned to Anthony. “Call the hospital. I want to speak with Nadia. Now.”

As Anthony reached for his phone, his thumb froze. A notification. His face paled as he opened the message, his eyes widening in disbelief. Without a word, he turned the screen toward Alexander.

There, on the screen, was a photograph of Nadia, bound and terrified, with Rossi’s wife standing beside her. Below, a message read: My wife has your daughter. It’s time to surrender.

In a flash of rage, Alexander hurled the phone across the room. It shattered against the wall, but the image and the words lingered in his mind, burning. “Rossi,” he hissed. “He came to Chicago to spite me, after all these years?”

Ronaldo’s voice was low, steady. “Rossi won’t hesitate. He is ruthless. He’ll kill her.”

"We search everywhere in Chicago. Every corner, every alley. Nadia is still here," Alexander commanded.

He turned away from them, looking out through the large windows overlooking the city. "Rossi expects my surrender, After killing my wife!!!!”

Maria cleared her throat softly, her voice less certain. "Sir, there’s... the girl who called. Bella. She might have more information. Perhaps the car they used, or a direction, anything."

Alexander’s eyes narrowed. “Then what are you standing here for? Find her.”

Maria and Anthony headed out of the room without another word.

****

Nadia’s body trembled as she stood on the auction block. She had been stripped of her dignity, her clothes torn, her skin exposed to the jeering crowd of men below. Each of their hungry eyes devoured her, their bids rising with every passing second.

Ava, Rossi’s wife, stood beside her with a smile, “Gentlemen, behold the lovely Nadia! Daughter of the great Alexander Valtor. Her beauty is unmatched, and her... talents are yours for the taking.”

Nadia’s stomach twisted as she felt their gaze on her, and she tried to block out their stares, their vile comments.

The numbers kept rising, the offers growing more obscene with every second.

“Sold to Marcus!” Ava announced, her voice

Nadia’s heart began to beat faster as the man stepped forward, a grin stretching across his face.

As Marcus dragged her into a private room, Nadia’s heart raced, panic surging through her veins. The door slammed behind them, sealing her fate or so she thought.

To her shock, Marcus didn’t move to touch her. Instead, his eyes, though cold, didn’t gleam with the same malice as the others. He leaned in close and whispered, “When I tell you, scream. Loud enough to make them believe I’m… handling you.”

Nadia’s breath caught in her throat, her eyes widening in disbelief. Was this a trick? A trap? But what other choice did she have? She nodded quickly, her voice barely a whisper. “I trust you.”

Moments later, her screams echoed through the building, the sound of her voice convincing anyone listening outside the door that the worst was happening inside. Marcus moved about the room, making enough noise to add to the charade, occasionally whispering words of reassurance to her.

When they emerged, Nadia’s face was tear-streaked, her clothes torn, and her spirit shattered. Marcus shoved her forward, and she collapsed onto the cold floor. Laughter erupted from the crowd, and Ava’s voice rang out.

“Alexander Valtor’s daughter… covered in shame,” she sneered.

Nadia’s body ached, but her mind spun with questions. Why had Marcus helped her? What did he stand to gain? Her eyes darted to his hands, noticing something odd, he lacked the distinctive tattoo that most of the men here bore. Was that a clue? Did it mean something?

She curled up in a corner, her heart heavy as Ava approached.

“Do you even know why you’re here?” Ava asked.

Nadia’s head shook weakly, her body trembling.

“Your father stole from us,” Ava whispered, her lips brushing against Nadia’s ear. “Well, technically, Derek Vale did. But we want to settle that debt with your papa now.”

Before Nadia could process Ava’s words, the sound of tyres screeching filled the air. A car sped into the compound, and Ava’s attention snapped toward the entrance. She signalled her men with a sharp glance, her body tensing, ready for whatever or whoever was about to come through that door.

Nadia’s heart pounded in her chest. Rescue or more torment?