Resold To The Ruthless Mafia Lord

~10~

~ DEMETRI'S [POV]~

Marcus' eyes widened at my words.

His expression shifted through several emotions at once, surprise, disbelief, and something balanced between amusement and curiosity. He hadn't expected me to make such an offer, I presumed.

But his eyes soon narrowed as he met my serious gaze, studying my face.

"Are you being serious, Demetri?" he asked, still trying to read the expression on my face.

"Hm." I hummed while nodding in response to his question. "Without any doubt."

He looked contemplative for a moment, the silence stretching between us with a certain weight to it, before he finally nodded and said, "Alright then. I will accept your offer."

I smiled, the expression pulling at the corners of my mouth with a satisfaction I didn't bother to conceal.

"Excellent."

I glanced at the pretty little man beside me who wore an uncomfortable look on his face as he stared at me warily.

His eyes carried that particular kind of unease that people wore when they realized they were no longer in control of what happened to them next, when the ground beneath their feet had shifted without warning and they hadn't yet learned the unfamiliar terrain.

I didn't mind the stare one bit. He was about to become mine soon enough, so there would be plenty of time for him to learn to relax around me.

I returned my attention to Marcus and said, "Jacob will transfer the payment of twenty million to you later."

He nodded as he rose from his seat, smoothing the front of his shirt with composed ease.

"I have matters to attend to concerning last night's attack. The sooner I find out who was bold enough to attack us so openly the better," he said, and I offered him nothing more than a single nod in acknowledgment.

He moved toward the open door, his footsteps measured and slow against the floor, and I had already begun to look elsewhere when he stopped. There was a brief pause before he turned and glanced back at me.

"I'm glad you're finally awake, Demetri," he said.

The words themselves carried relief, genuinely so, but his eyes told a different story entirely. There was a distant look in his eyes, like his thoughts were someplace else.

He didn't wait for a response from me. He simply turned and walked out, disappearing through the doorway and leaving the room quieter in his absence.

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~TIANA'S [POV]~

The moment Marcus left, the anxiety that had been sitting low in my chest rose several degrees higher, my heart palpitating with a rhythm that felt entirely too loud for my own body.

It wasn't simply because of the fact that I was now alone with Demetri, because as a matter of fact, three maids were still present in the room, standing carefully in the background the way trained staff always did, visible without being intrusive. That wasn't what unsettled me.

What unsettled me was the reality that had just played out in front of my eyes.

This man, this broad-shouldered, cold-faced, unsettling man, had just proposed purchasing me from his brother, and his brother had not objected. Not even a little. Marcus had sat there with a calm expression and agreed to sell me off.

My fingers curled slightly in my lap as Demetri turned his attention toward the maids and instructed them to clear the table.

They moved immediately, efficiently, gathering dishes and glassware with the practiced speed of people who understood that hesitation was not an option in this household.

As the last maid lifted the final plate from the surface, Demetri snapped his fingers at her, drawing her attention toward him as she paused what she was doing.

"Look for an iPad somewhere around the house and bring it here immediately," he instructed the maid.

"Yes, Master Demetri," she said, dipping her head slightly before she turned and left to carry out his instruction.

"I hope you know how to write and read, at least?"

His voice reached me and pulled my attention away from the door I had been staring at, redirecting it to him. I found his gaze already waiting on my face, watching me with that same steady, unreadable expression he seemed to wear as a permanent fixture.

I nodded in response.

Something shifted faintly across his face, not quite warmth, but the closest approximation of it that his features seemed capable of producing. "That's a relief," he said.

The maid returned not long after, the iPad in hand along with its stylus, and she crossed the room to present both to Demetri with a slight bow before she stepped back and quietly exited. He took them without ceremony, his long fingers wrapping around the device, and then he extended it toward me.

His eyes caught the light as he did so, something glinting pleasantly within them, a brightness that sat at odds with the cold composition of his face, like sunlight touching the surface of still, dark water.

It didn't quite match the expression he wore, didn't soften the hard lines of his features in any meaningful way, but it was there regardless.

"Now we can communicate with each other with ease," he said, his voice carrying the measured tone of a man who had already thought several steps ahead of the current moment. "We should start small. Perhaps with a previous question." He paused for a mere second, his gaze holding mine with attentiveness before he asked,

"What is your name?"

I looked down at the iPad and started writing my name, but then paused, recalling that I couldn't tell him my name.

A few seconds passed as I tried to figure out which false name I would give. When ten more seconds passed and I hadn't given him the name he requested, I heard him say, "Did you forget your name?"

I quickly looked up at him and shook my head.

He sighed upon seeing me do this before leaning back in his seat.

"Do you love testing people's patience then?"

His expression still remained the same, cold and calm, but I somehow grew tense from the look in his eyes.

I shook my head again, facing the iPad as I scribbled down the first name that crossed my mind before handing it back to him.

His gaze settled on the letters on the screen.

"Miyo..." he muttered as if testing the name on his lips before looking back at me. "Your name is Miyo?"

I nodded in response as he slid the iPad back toward me.

Miyo was the name of a pet fish I had before my previous owners dumped me at that auction site. I wondered how the poor thing was doing now in my absence.

"Marcus said he bought you from the black market auction.... where did you come from before that?"

His next question snapped me out of my brief thoughts.

I picked up the iPad and wrote my reply on it. This time I tried to tell the truth by writing down how my family was killed and how I was taken by their murderers. I made sure to leave out the fact about who my family were.

When I was done writing, I handed it back to him.

He took a moment to read through what I'd written before sliding the iPad back to me.

"That's tragic," he muttered, not the least bit of sympathy in his voice. "They probably messed with the wrong people. How old are you?" He was already moving on to the next question.

I scribbled down my answer.

"23." There was a small look of surprise on his face as his eyes examined me. "You don't look it."

I blinked at him because I was telling the truth. I was twenty-three.

He stared at me silently as if processing a thought in his head about me.

"Has anyone ever told you that you look like a girl?"

His question had me freezing, and when I noticed the subtle smirk curling at the side of his lips, my face went pale.

'He knows.'