She Belongs To The Mafia

Chapter 13

Cherilyn Knight's Point Of View.

It had been seven days, seven days of hell.

Seven days when every hour felt like an eternity, dragging me deeper into a pit of fear and despair. Every second ticked by slowly, each moment filled with dread. I had never experienced anything like this before—this suffocating, gnawing anxiety that seemed to latch onto me the minute I arrived there.

Nicole, with her perfect face and poised demeanor, had been my personal tormentor. To an outsider, she might seem graceful, even angelic, but to me, she was nothing short of a nightmare.

There was something so chilling about her, a sinister undertone to her every move that made my stomach churn. Every time she appeared, my heart would race. Her words were sharp, her instructions harsher with each passing day, and her cold indifference to my suffering made me want to scream. She seemed to take pleasure in watching me struggle, and there was nothing I could do to escape her and tomorrow, tomorrow, was the day I dreaded the most.

Tomorrow, I was going to meet the Don. The man who held my fate in his hands, who owned me. My heart trembled at the thought. I had spent days hearing about him, hearing others whisper his name like he was some untouchable force. The tension in the mansion had been building ever since it was announced he would return. Everyone, from the staff to the other slaves, moved with more urgency, fear evident in their eyes. It was as if the very air inside the mansion had shifted, becoming heavier, harder to breathe.

I needed to clear my mind, to calm the panic that was rising in my chest. I decided to take a shower, hoping the hot water could wash away my anxiety, if only for a little while. Grabbing a clean towel, I made my way to the common shower room used by the slaves, hoping that the hot water might soothe my nerves. The room was shared by both men and women, which made me uneasy. I hated the thought of being so exposed, even with the thin shower curtains providing some semblance of privacy. I checked the room carefully before entering, making sure no one else was there, especially any of the men. I did a quick scan — empty. Thank God. The last thing I needed was another reason to feel more vulnerable.

The water was scalding as it hit my skin, but I welcomed the heat. I scrubbed my body quickly, trying to wash away the fear, though I knew it was not something that would disappear so easily. My mind wandered to the other slaves who lived inside the mansion. I had heard that there were about ten of us, though most of them had been here for years, "trained" and "educated" until they were no longer considered slaves in the traditional sense. They were still owned, still controlled, but they had earned a certain level of trust, a higher status. They were like upgraded slaves, if such a thing even existed. I scoffed at the thought. There was nothing "upgraded" about this life. We were all trapped, no matter what title they gave us.

After my shower, I wrapped the towel tightly around me, my body shivering as the cold air hit my wet skin. I had brought extra clothes, thankfully, and quickly dressed before making the long walk back to my small room. October was creeping in, and the cold breeze from the nearby Alps had begun to settle in the city. It would not be long before everything froze over. The festive season was around the corner, but Christmas had long lost its magic for me.

I had always hated Christmas.

For most, it was a season of joy and warmth, but for me, it was a reminder of everything I had lost. This city had a long, dark history of war and oppression, yet some traditions, like Christmas, stubbornly remained feel but they feel hollow now, meaningless. What was the point of celebrating when there was nothing to be happy about?

When I finally reached my room, I closed the door and let out a deep breath, feeling a small sense of relief. At least here, I was alone. I glanced at my reflection in the mirror, and my heart sank. I had gained weight—fifteen pounds in just seven days. It did not even seem humanly possible, yet it had happened. My body had ballooned, though strangely, there were no stretch marks, no signs of my skin struggling to keep up with the sudden change. It was the injections, of course—the blue substance they kept pumping into my veins.

Each and every injection brought with it an unbearable wave of pain that lasted all night. I dreaded the hours that followed, knowing the unbearable pain that was about to take over my body. The first time, I thought I was going to die. The pain was excruciating, lasting through the night. The agony was so intense, I had thought I would lose my mind i.e., in the verse of insanity. As the days went on, the pain did not last as long, but it was still just as brutal. My body felt like it was being torn apart from the inside out, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. Anna had been the only thing keeping me from breaking down completely. Her words of encouragement, her presence, had been my only source of comfort. Without her, I was not sure if I would have survived this long.

It was torture, pure and simple.

After the weight gain, Nicole had forced me into a brutal workout regime to burn off the fat and replace it with muscle. My body was in constant pain, both from the injections and the workouts, and I had no idea how my body was supposed to handle the drastic change, but apparently, no one cared about that. From being underweight to suddenly overweight, my body was struggling to keep up with the rapid changes. I hated it. I hated every second of this life, but what choice did I have?

I sat on the edge of my bed, staring blankly at the wall. Why were they doing this to me? What was the point of all this? The only thing I could think of was that it was all for the Don. Everything in this mansion revolved around him. Every action, every decision, was made with him in mind. Nicole had drilled into me that my only purpose here was to serve him, to please him, but what kind of man needed this much control, this much power over others?

I loathed him, and yet, I feared him too. They had succeeded in making me afraid of him. The thought of meeting him tomorrow made my stomach turn. I hated that I feared him, hated that they had managed to plant that seed of terror in me, but this was my reality now. He owned me. My life was no longer mine.

As the evening set in, I noticed the mansion becoming more alive, people rushing around in preparation for the Don's arrival. The tension in the air was palpable, the stress evident in everyone's faces. Nicole had mentioned that the Don had mild OCD (Obsessive compulsive disorder), which meant everything had to be immaculate and in perfect order before he arrived. Any deviation from his expectations would lead to punishment, and no one wanted to face that.

I was ordered to change into my new uniform—a black dress that barely reached my knees, with a white apron tied around my waist. I had seen the others wearing similar outfits, but now that I was wearing them myself, it felt like another layer of my freedom had been stripped away.

Nicole was already waiting outside in the garden, where the Don's private plane was expected to land. The estate was massive, and I had no idea how much land it covered, but I did not care about that. My mind was consumed with what was about to happen. I was instructed to present myself to the Don in his office as soon as he arrived.

My hands were clammy, and I clutched the communication device Nicole had given me, a small watch-like gadget strapped to my wrist that all the slaves wore. It buzzed suddenly, signaling an incoming message. I pressed the button, and Nicole's face appeared in a hologram, her expression unreadable as always. Cold and emotionless.

"The Don is now in his office. You are expected in five minutes," She said, while her voice was cold and direct. The image vanished, leaving me staring at the small device.

I took a deep breath, trying to calm the rising panic in my chest as I made my way to the elevator. Just as I was about to press the button, the doors slid open, and there she was—Nicole, stepping out with her hair slightly disheveled, something i had not seen before. Her usual composure seemed rattled for a moment, but she quickly masked it with a smirk.

"Remember what I taught you, Cherry." she said, her eyes locking onto mine with a strange intensity as she walked past me, I caught a glimpse of a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.

My heart pounded in my chest, faster and harder with every passing second. Something about Nicole's smile had sent a chill down my spine. It wasn't just a regular smirk — it was a cruel, knowing grin, like she was savoring a private joke at my expense. The way her eyes gleamed, like she knew something I did not, made me feel even more uneasy. It only heightened the fear that had already been simmering inside me.

The elevator ride felt like it lasted an eternity, the walls of the small, metal box closing in on me as the numbers slowly ticked up. My heart raced faster with every floor we passed, my stomach churning. I tried to breathe, to calm myself, but every breath felt shallow, like the air itself was too thin. By the time I reached the top floor, where the Don's office was located, my hands were clammy and cold, slick with sweat. I wiped them against my dress, trying to steady myself, but nothing seemed to help.

As I stepped out of the elevator, the hallway stretched out before me, long and intimidating. The mansion was eerily quiet, the only sound was the echo of my own footsteps against the marble floor. Each step toward that door felt heavier than the last, as though the weight of what was waiting for me on the other side was pressing down on me with crushing force. My heart thudded in my chest, so loud that I was sure anyone nearby could hear it. Every muscle in my body screamed at me to stop, to turn around and run, but I could not. There was no going back now.

This was it. The moment I had been dreading ever since I arrived. There was no escaping it. My fate, my future, everything hinged on what was about to happen behind that door.

I swallowed hard as I reached the door, my hand hovering just above the handle. My fingers trembled as I hesitated for a split second. Then, taking one last shaky breath, I pushed the door open.