Sold To The Don: Mafia's Obsession

Chapter 5: Grief has an Identity

The knife pressed harder on Rafael's neck, as if it were counting his pulse. It stayed like that until Rafael bursts out a hard laugh. The sound vibrated against the knife. "Put it down!" her father roared, slamming his fist on the table.

Isabella didn't flinch.

Then Luca moved. One moment he was across the room. The next, he was in front of her. His hand clamped around her wrist like iron, twisting with precise force. The knife clattered to the floor. Before she could react, the cold barrel of his gun pressed against her temple.

"Do it," Isabella screamed at him, tears streaming down her face. "Just do it!"

They stayed like that — locked in a silent, violent standoff — until Rafael gave a small shake of his head. Luca lowered the gun.

Isabella was dragged away screaming "y'all are evil, I hate you Dad, I hate you!"

Isabella collapsed onto the floor of her new room the moment the door slammed shut. Her hands trembled uncontrollably as she gripped the fabric of her dress stained with Sarah's blood. The maid's terrified eyes haunted her. "I put her into it…" she whispered brokenly. A raw, guttural sob tore from her chest. She threw up right there, her face red.

She curled into herself, feeling completely hollow. Instantly she fell ill, temperature high and she was shaking. words reached Rafael. He swoped in and checked her "I didn't spend money on a dying girl," Rafael said sharply. "I did not marry a corpse." And everyone began to paste around.

As the guests slowly departed, Isabella's father remained behind. His eyes never left the mansion. Hours passed.

Finally, he approached one of the security men.

"I want to see my daughter."

The man's expression remained blank.

"You no longer have a daughter here."

The words struck him like a physical blow.

"I only want five minutes."

"No." The man stepped aside.

A familiar figure emerged from the shadows.

Luca. The older man immediately lowered his gaze.

"Please." Luca stared at him without emotion.

"You sold her."

The words cut deeper than any knife.

"Your right to see her ended the moment the deal was completed." The gate slammed shut. And for the first time since signing the papers, Isabella's father realized what he had truly done.

Eventually, they assigned Isabella a new personal maid. Her name was Sophia. Isabella stayed ill in bed for days. throwing up, weak, pale. She hoped for death to come. she refused to eat or take her medications.

"why is she still looking like that?" Rafael asked

"she has refused to eat anything sir" Sophia answered terrified.

Rafael sighed "perhaps you are failing on your duties"

she knelt down and began to sob "forgive me, I will do better." He let her go.

The maid brought her food , and as usual she refused to eat. Sophia cried out "please eat, my life depends on it "on hearing this Isabella gently picked up the food and began to eat, she began to take her medications and became better.

The new maid was friendly, took her round the mansion. She was always smiling, always hovering. She followed Isabella everywhere — down the halls, into the bathroom, even when she tried to sit by the window alone. Privacy was a privilege she no longer had.

One afternoon, while Sophia brushed her hair, she asked cheerfully, "Are you going to meet him in his chambers tonight?"

Isabella stiffened. "Why would I?"

Sophia looked genuinely confused. "He is your husband now. It's your duty. You must make him happy." The words landed like stones in her stomach. She rolled her eyes and looked away.

"When I first came here," Sophia continued softly, "I had just turned eighteen. My parents said it was for my own good. I believed them." Her hands paused. "Instead, I was subjected as a gift to Rafael's guests."

Isabella turned to look at her. Sophia's smile had faded into something tired and distant. "I don't even know him," Isabella whispered, staring out at the distant gates.

Sophia stepped closer, resting a gentle hand on her shoulder. "That doesn't matter here. Nothing is about knowing. It's about belonging."

"I can never get used to this place," Isabella said, fists tightening.

"At some point… you'll stop fighting it." Sophia's voice was soft, almost kind. "Everyone does. No one keeps saying no forever." Her words chilled Isabella more than any threat. It wasn't cruelty she heard — it was quiet certainty. The kind that comes from watching too many girls break.

That evening she was asked to go see Rafael, she had barely gotten ready when Luca appeared at her door.

"Don't do anything stupid," he warned in a low cold tone. His eyes flicked over her once before he stepped aside. Isabella walked into Rafael's chambers with her head high, even though her legs felt like lead. The room was enormous and dimly lit. The massive bed dominated the space like a throne.

Isabella stood near it, hands clenched at her sides. She sensed Rafael before she saw him. He moved behind her silently.

Without warning, his hands began undressing her. Her breath hitched. Every touch felt like chains tightening around her skin. She wanted to scream. She wanted to run. But she remembered the maid's blood on the floor. She remembered Luca's gun against her head. So she stood there, trembling, as her husband — a man she hated with every fiber of her being — claimed what he believed was his.

Isabella tried to steady her breathing as Rafael circled her like a predator. He had been surprisingly patient the first few nights, but that patience was clearly wearing thin.

"I have been expecting you for too long" he sniffed her neck.

"Your father assured me you were untouched." His words stung like a brand.

Isabella nodded, shame burning her cheeks. "Yes."

He picked her up effortlessly and laid her on the massive bed. "Spread those legs for me ."

The command echoed in the silent room. Isabella hesitated, every muscle locked in fear. Slowly, trembling, she obeyed. The silk sheets felt too soft, she wasn't ready for what was about to happen.