The Auctioned Bride – Episode 2
1230 Words
The words echoed in my head long after he said them.
“She’s mine now.”
I wanted to deny it, to spit the words back into his face. But the look in Dante Russo’s eyes left no space for defiance. He wasn’t a man used to hearing the word no.
My stepfather, however, practically sagged with relief. “It’s settled, then,” he muttered, his voice trembling as though he couldn’t wait to leave. He glanced at me once, a cruel smirk twisting his lips. “You belong to him now. Be useful for once in your life.”
I opened my mouth, a hundred protests threatening to break free, but Dante lifted a single hand. The gesture was subtle, calm, but it froze my stepfather in place.
“You’ve overstayed your welcome,” Dante said, his tone smooth yet laced with danger. “Leave before I decide your debt isn’t fully paid.”
My stepfather didn’t argue. He scurried toward the door like a rat fleeing fire, leaving me behind in the cavernous hall with this stranger. The man who had just claimed me like property.
The heavy doors closed, sealing my fate.
Silence wrapped around us. Dante studied me the way a predator studies prey, calm, patient, unhurried. His gaze drifted over me, not in lust, but in assessment, as though measuring my worth. My skin prickled under the weight of it.
“Come closer,” he ordered.
The authority in his voice made my feet move before my brain caught up. When I stopped in front of him, close enough to breathe in his intoxicating scent, I clenched my fists to stop them from trembling.
“Do you know who I am?” His voice was velvet laced with steel.
I forced myself to meet his eyes. “Dante Russo. The Mafia Prince.”
His lips curved, almost amused. “That’s what they call me.” He leaned in, his breath brushing my ear. “But that’s only half of what I am.”
My brows furrowed, confusion flickering. “Half?”
He stepped back, straightening to his full height. In the golden light of the chandelier, his silver eyes glowed unnaturally, an otherworldly shimmer that made my heart slam against my ribs.
“You’ll learn soon enough,” he murmured.
I swallowed hard, heat creeping up my neck. Something about him unsettled me beyond reason. It wasn’t just his power or his reputation. It was the way my body reacted to him, the way my soul felt tethered to his in a way I couldn’t explain.
Dante tilted his head slightly, as if hearing something I could not. Then he smirked and turned, striding deeper into the mansion. He didn’t look back. “Follow me.”
My feet hesitated, but what choice did I have?
The mansion was a labyrinth of marble floors and gilded walls. Guards stood at every corner, silent and alert. I followed him up a sweeping staircase until we stopped in front of double doors carved with intricate patterns, wolves, I realized, running across the wood as though alive.
He pushed them open. Inside was a room fit for royalty: a massive bed draped in silk, tall windows overlooking the city, shelves lined with leather-bound books.
“This is your room now,” Dante said simply.
My lips parted in shock. “My room?”
“You’ll stay here. You’ll eat here. You’ll sleep here. Until I decide otherwise.”
Anger flared in my chest, momentarily stronger than my fear. “You can’t just keep me like some pet.”
His gaze sharpened, dangerous, but not furious. In fact, a flicker of amusement ghosted across his features. He stepped closer, so close that I had to tiptoe backward until my knees hit the edge of the bed.
“I can,” he said softly. “And I will.”
My pulse thundered. His presence was overwhelming, suffocating, yet part of me didn’t want to escape. I hated that. I hated the heat spreading through my chest when his silver eyes locked on mine.
Dante leaned down, his lips near my ear. “Defy me, fight me, curse me. I’ll still own you.” His voice dropped lower, a dangerous promise. “And one day, you’ll beg me to keep you.”
I gasped, outrage and something darker curling inside me. He straightened and left without another word, leaving me trembling on the edge of the bed.
Hours passed. Servants brought food I couldn’t bring myself to eat. The city lights blinked outside the window, mocking me with their freedom.
When I finally lay down, exhaustion claimed me. But sleep was restless, filled with flashes of glowing eyes and the echo of Dante’s voice.
Mine.
The next morning, a maid entered, timid but efficient. She laid out a dress far finer than anything I had ever owned, silk, delicate lace, jewels at the neckline.
“What is this?” I whispered.
“The boss wants you ready for tonight,” she said softly. “There’s a gathering. Important men. Important families. You’re to stand at his side.”
My chest tightened. I wasn’t just a servant here. I was a symbol. An ornament he intended to display.
By the time evening fell, my heart pounded in my chest. The dress clung to me like a second skin. My reflection in the mirror was almost unrecognizable, a doll, painted and polished.
When Dante entered, I forgot how to breathe. He wore a tailored black suit, his presence magnetic as ever. His gaze swept over me, slow and deliberate, until heat bloomed across my skin.
“Perfect,” he murmured.
I opened my mouth to protest, to demand why I was paraded like this, but he offered his arm. “Come.”
I hesitated, but his eyes warned me not to refuse. Reluctantly, I placed my hand on his arm. Electricity jolted through me at the contact, so strong I nearly pulled away.
He smirked, as though he felt it too.
The banquet hall was filled with men who looked dangerous even in their suits. Their laughter was sharp, their eyes calculating. The air buzzed with wealth, power, and menace.
Conversations hushed as Dante entered with me at his side. Every gaze turned to us.
Whispers followed.
“Who is she?”
“Another mistress?”
“No, look at him. That’s different.”
I swallowed, wishing I could vanish. But Dante only tightened his grip on my arm, anchoring me to his side.
One man, older with a scar across his cheek, approached with a sly smile. “You’ve brought a pretty thing, Dante. Planning to share?”
A low growl rumbled from Dante’s chest. My eyes widened, it was inhuman, primal, the sound of something not entirely human.
“She’s mine,” Dante said, his voice a warning. “Anyone who touches her dies.”
The man chuckled uneasily and backed away. But I stood frozen, heart racing. That sound. That growl. It wasn’t possible.
Was it?
I looked up at Dante. For the briefest moment, his silver eyes glowed, bright as the moon.
My breath caught. My world tilted. And deep inside, something told me the truth:
This man wasn’t just Mafia.
He wasn’t just human.
He was something else. Something wild. Something dangerous.
And I was trapped in his world.
- Writer
