Fransisca's POV
"Welcome to your worst nightmare, Fransisca," Lucas Gambino sneered, his icy gaze piercing through me like a dagger. "You're going to wish you were dead because I'll shatter your heart, crush your spirit, you'll be my puppet, my plaything and my prey”
I shivered, my heart racing with fear.
The Gambino twins, Lucas and André, stood before me, their eyes blazing with a malevolent fury that made my blood run cold.
It all started on a frigid night, October 10th, 2015.
The Gambino men stormed into our home, killing my mom and leaving me for dead. I remembered her screams, her head rolling on the floor, her eyes wide with shock.
"Fransisca, run! Run for your life!" Her voice echoed in my mind as my hands shook uncontrollably.
But I was frozen in place, water cascading over me as the sound of gunfire drew nearer. They entered the shower, fired at me, but their aim was off, and the bullet zipped past.
In a frantic moment, I grabbed the scissors I had been using to trim my hair and drove them into my own skin, watching the red mix with the water. Holding my breath, I submerged myself, trying to make my body look lifeless and float.
Then everything went dark.
The flashback faded, and I found myself facing the Gambino twins. Their stares were icy and calculating.
"You're going to be our slave bride, chosen by our father to bear us children," Lucas said, his voice deep and gravelly.
A wave of revulsion washed over me. This was the moment I had been waiting for my entire life—the moment I would finally confront the men who had destroyed my family.
But they were unaware of the truth. They had no idea that I had feigned my death all these years, hiding and training with my uncle Pedro Ferrarez, plotting my revenge.
Now, I had returned to reclaim what was rightfully mine.
They were going to pay for everything they did to my family!
I kept my gaze lowered, attempting to appear submissive. "Thank you, masters," I murmured.
André scoffed. "Don't waste your breath thanking us. You're nothing but a slave, a plaything for our pleasure."
Lucas laughed. "Exactly, and you'll obey us without question, won't you, Fransisca?"
I nodded, struggling to keep my anger at bay.
"Good," Lucas continued. "Let's make one thing clear. You belong to us forever, and we can do whatever we please with you! Secondly, you will follow our orders, for every act of disobedience, we will cut off one of your fingers. Thirdly, your body is ours; we are your husbands now. And lastly, you are not allowed to leave this mansion. Is that understood?"
He shouted, and I shivered slightly before nodding.
At that moment, one of the guards shoved a young girl into the room. She was trembling, her eyes wide with terror.
"What's happening?" Lucas asked, his voice a mix of curiosity and anger.
The guard replied, "This girl refused to entertain our customers at the club, and she stabbed one of them."
André's eyes narrowed. "Bring her here."
The guard shoved the girl forward, and André's gaze locked onto hers.
"Turn around," he commanded, his tone icy. "Hands above your head."
The girl hesitated for a moment before slowly turning. André raised his gun, pressing it against the back of her head.
"No, please!" she screamed. "Please, don't kill me, I don't want—"
André pulled the trigger, and the girl's body collapsed to the floor.
Lucas turned to me, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "You see, Fransisca, we don't tolerate disobedience. What happened to her will happen to you if you dare betray us."
A wave of fear washed over me, but I knew I had to hide it. I had to maintain the act, no matter how difficult it felt.
Lucas's eyes narrowed further. "What's in the bag, Fransisca?"
I hesitated, scrambling for a believable lie. "Just some clothes, masters."
André's hand shot out, gripping my neck. "I don't think so," he sneered.
Lucas chuckled, his eyes glinting with mischief. "Let's take a look, shall we?"
He grabbed the bag from my hands and spilled everything out onto the floor.
Just as I was about to crouch down to gather my things, one of the guards chimed in. "Boss, we found a bottle in her bag. It smells like poison."
Lucas's eyes locked onto mine, his gaze piercing. "Well, well, well. What do we have here?”
