Captive To The Mafia Don

Chapter 7

Shock washed over me.

Why is he home by now? Oh God.

He started moving forward, his eyes still locked on mine. I stepped back until my back hit the cold wall behind me. The wallpaper was smooth against my palms, but it did nothing to stop the panic rising in my chest.

He kept his suitcase on the table beside me and rested his arm on the wall beside my head, caging me in. The scent of his cologne, something dark and

We didn’t reply. We stood up to leave.

Ann blocked the way, her arms crossed.

expensive, filled the space between us.

“Who gave you permission to invade my privacy?”

I shivered with fear. My whole body felt small under his gaze.

“I... I was... I...” I stammered, my words tripping over each other.

“Who told you to invade my space!”

He thundered, rage written all over his face. His jaw was clenched so tight I thought it might crack.

“I am sorry, sir. I just thought I could clean your room as well,” I whispered, my voice breaking.

He stepped back and looked at me again. This time something flashed in his eyes. Emotion. Something raw and unguarded. But he was quick to mask it, his face going hard again, like a door slamming shut.

“You are not allowed into my room,” he said, his voice lower now. “I am letting you go today. But next time, you won’t go free.”

He warned me. With a shaky voice, I thanked him and scurried out of the room, my feet barely making a sound on the carpet. My heart was pounding so hard I could hear it in my ears.

I ran down to where Julie was waiting for me by the back staircase.

“Oh my God,” Juliet said as I sat down beside her, collapsing onto the step. My knees were weak.

“Why are you panting, girl?” she asked, her eyes wide as she looked me over.

“I almost got whipped,” I said, scanning around to make sure no one else was there. My voice was barely above a whisper. “The boss saw me in his room.”

“What!” Her hand flew to her mouth. “He saw you and didn’t punish you?”

“No, he didn’t,” I answered, still trying to catch my breath.

“That’s new. He doesn’t behave that way,” she said, frowning. But I tried to change the topic before my hands started shaking again.

“You told me the boss’s sister will be returning today,” I asked, pushing my hair back.

“Yes, she is already home. She’s in her room,” she said.

“Wow. She didn’t create a commotion like all these spoilt girls,” I muttered.

Julie burst out laughing, but it sounded nervous.

“What’s funny?” I asked.

“You haven’t met her yet. She’s not just spoilt but” Julie stopped talking as her gaze looked behind me. Her smile dropped instantly.

I turned to see Ann and Maria coming down the hall.

“The boss’s sister favours them, and I guess they are here with an order,” Julie whispered, her voice dropping.

“What are you two whispering about?” Maria said as they approached us, her eyes narrowed.

“You lap dog,” she sneered. “I’m sure the boss will skin you alive when he finds out you were in his room today.”

Maria stepped closer.

I exchanged a glance with Julie, and we started laughing. It wasn’t real laughter. It was the kind that comes out when you’re scared and don’t know what else to do.

“Looks like you are the lap dog here,” Julie said as we stopped laughing, lifting her chin.

Maria came forward and slapped me hard, right across my face. The sound cracked through the hallway. My lips cut open on the other side, and blood trickled down the corner of my mouth. The pain was sharp, immediate, and humiliating.

“Why would you slap me?” I tried to slap her back, but Julie grabbed my wrist and stopped me.

“They might report you to Miss June, and she will punish you,” Julie whispered urgently in my ear.

“You want to hit me? Go on and do it, and bid your free, miserable life goodbye,” Maria added, smiling like she wanted me to try.

“We came to inform you that Miss June calls for you,” Ann said, her voice sweet and fake. They strode off, their heels clicking on the marble floor.

I touched the two parts of my lower lip which were now injured. Blood was on my fingertips.

“I’m sorry about that,” Julie said softly. “Let’s go before they do something stupid.”

We left. My face was burning.

We got to her room and knocked. A sharp voice told us to come in.

Her room looked so beautiful and spacious. Decorated in pink and white colors, with lace curtains and a chandelier that looked like it cost more than my father’s house. It smelled like roses and perfume.

She sat at her vanity table, brushing her hair. We walked in and greeted her.

“Good evening, Miss June.”

She turned to look at us. She scanned me from head to toe, slow and disapproving.

“I see you are the new servant.”

“Yes,” I said, keeping my eyes down.

She stood up and walked up to me. She was a bit taller than I am.

“You are too beautiful to be a maid,” she said. She came forward and raised my face to look at her, her fingers gripping my chin.

“Now listen. I do not want to see you near any of my brothers. You are a low life, and that thought of marrying any of my brothers shouldn’t come to you.”

What have I done this time around? I thought, my stomach sinking. I hadn’t even spoken to her brothers.

“Let’s start by making you know your place,” she said, pointing at her closet. “I have laundry for you to do.”

“But ma’am, I am already done with my work for today,” I said, because it was true. My back hurt. My hands were raw.

SLAP.

The slap was so painful it made my ears ring. Tears trickled down my cheek immediately. This was the third time I was receiving a slap in a day. My face felt like it was on fire.

Julie could not do anything. She stood frozen, her eyes full of pity but her mouth closed.

“How dare you object to my orders?” Miss June snapped.

“I am sorry, ma’am,” I said amidst tears, my voice shaking.

“Now go and get it done. And one more thing,” she said as she walked back to her seat. “No one is allowed to help you.”

She ordered Julie to leave.

I packed the clothes with trembling hands and sobbed quietly. The pile was heavy, filled with silks and expensive dresses that would take hours to wash by hand.

Only if my parents were still alive, I would not have been here, I thought to myself as I packed the clothes and left the room. The thought sat in my chest like a weight.

As soon as I closed the door behind me, I bumped into a firm chest. I looked up to find Sir Alessandro staring at me.

“What happened to your face?” he asked, worry laced in his words. His eyes dropped to my swollen lip, to the red mark on my cheek.

I was a bit surprised. No one had asked me that all day. But I decided to avoid him. If I talked, I might cry again. And I’d already been slapped severally because of him today.

“Good evening, sir,” I said, clutching the laundry to my chest like armor, and ran with the clothes downstairs. My face was already bruised enough. I couldn’t take another one.

The stairs blurred as I ran. The weight of the clothes, the sting on my face, the taste of blood in my mouth it all piled on top of each other until I felt like I couldn’t breathe.

Down in the laundry room, it was quiet and damp. The smell of soap and bleach burned my nose. I dropped the clothes onto the wooden table and slid down to the floor, holding my knees.

I was eighteen. I was supposed to be in school, or at home, or anywhere but here. Instead, I was counting slaps like other girls counted birthday candles. Three in one day.

Julie found me a few minutes later. She didn’t say anything at first. She just handed me a cold, wet cloth for my face.

“You’re bleeding,” she whispered.

I nodded, because talking hurt.

“He let you go,” Julie said after a while. “Alessandro. That’s something.”

I didn’t answer. Because letting me go once didn’t mean I was safe. It just meant he hadn’t broken me yet. And Miss June had made it clear she would try.

I pressed the cold cloth to my lip and stared at the pile of laundry. Miss June’s clothes. Silk. Lace. Things I wasn’t allowed to touch unless it was to clean them.

My hands were shaking as I started to sort them. Every slap, every insult, every time someone called me “slave” or “lap dog” replayed in my head. I bit my lip to keep the sobs in.

This is my place now, I told myself. Kneel. Wash. Don’t talk back. Don’t be seen.

But my chest ached with something I couldn’t name. It wasn’t just fear. It was anger. It was grief for the life I should have had. It was the memory of my mother’s voice telling me I was worth more than this.

I scrubbed harder. The water was hot. It turned my skin red, but I didn’t stop. If I stopped, I would think. And if I thought, I would break.

Julie stayed by the door, watching. She didn’t help. Miss June’s order was clear. No one is allowed to help you.

“Be careful,” Julie said quietly. “She’s watching.”

I didn’t look up. I just kept washing.

The cold air from the vent made my wet hair stick to my neck. My bruised lip throbbed every time I moved my mouth. And outside, beyond these walls, the city kept moving like nothing had changed.

But everything had changed.

And as I wrung out Miss June’s pink dress, tears fell into the basin with the soap.