Julliete's POV:
Slap! A sharp sting spread across my face, and my ear rang from the impact.
"Shut up, slut," Gaspar said angrily.
My hand moved to my burning cheek, and I kept my eyes away from him.
"Help me..." I whispered.
At once, Gaspar covered my mouth with his hand and cut off my cries.
"Calm down. It'll be uncomfortable at first..." he said in a rough voice. "After that, you'll get used to it."
The sound of a belt buckle and a zipper reached my ears as he tried to move closer. Desperation took over, and I struggled against him. His size made him difficult to fight, but the alcohol had left him slow and unsteady.
Fear pushed me to keep fighting beneath his weight. With all the strength I had left, I bit down on his shoulder until I tasted blood.
"You little bitch!" Gaspar shouted.
Gaspar grabbed me and threw me against the wall. Pain shot through me as the impact made my head spin. For a moment, everything blurred, and I nearly lost consciousness.
I didn't know how long I had stayed in that state, but the moment I felt his weight over me again, my senses came rushing back.
"Just be a good girl. I won't hurt you," Gaspar said in a harsh voice. "Come on. You'll like this." He gestured with that revolting thing. "Relax. You'll get used to it."
Without warning, three loud knocks echoed from the front door.
Gaspar immediately stopped moving. Light from the window fell across his thin, hollow face.
"Open the door, Gaspar, or we'll set this house on fire with you still inside!" a man shouted. "We're here on Don Vito Lucchese's orders."
The name alone sent a shiver through me. Vito Lucchese was one of the most powerful mafia bosses in southern Italy, a place known for mafia influence.
"Damn it!" Gaspar cursed. "Stay here... I'll come back, and then we'll finish our little game of cat and mouse," he added with a malicious smile before leaving the door slightly open.
Tears ran down my face as I crawled into a corner.
I forced myself to calm down while my eyes searched every part of the room for a way out.
"Mr. Gaspar, we're not here to waste time!" someone called from downstairs in a distinct Neapolitan accent.
"No!" That voice belonged to one of Don Vito's men.
"My boss wants his money today!" another man said in a deep voice.
"I don't have it right now, but I'll have it tomorrow," Gaspar muttered, trying to bluff his way out.
A heavy crash suddenly sounded from downstairs, followed by Gaspar's pained groans. It was obvious they were beating him.
"I have a proposal for Don Lucchese!" My stepfather's voice was filled with desperation.
Everything went quiet for a moment before Gaspar spoke again.
"My stepdaughter is a beautiful French girl with blue eyes like the sky, black hair, and porcelain skin. She just turned eighteen, and she's still untouched!" Gaspar said, offering me to those mobsters as if I were nothing more than an object.
I could still remember my mother holding Gaspar's hand three weeks earlier and making him promise that he would look after me and keep me safe. It didn't take that disgusting man long to break his word.
"She can work at Vito's club!" Gaspar continued. "Men will pay a lot of money for a virgin girl."
Anger quickly pushed aside my fear. My mother had brought me to Italy because she promised me a better life, yet now I was being treated like something that could be bought and sold. I refused to accept it.
"You, go call the boss from the car," one of the mobsters said to another man.
"Take this picture of her." Gaspar was the one who said it.
He must've taken the only framed photograph I had, the one where my mother and I were together.
After that, all I could hear were footsteps, laughter, and quiet conversations in Neapolitan that I couldn't fully understand.
"Don Vito agreed, but he wants the virgin girl brought to his house," another henchman chimed in.
I slipped out of the room barefoot, dressed in torn clothes.
"Bring the girl here, Gaspar!"
"She's not here, Gianni." My stepfather lied. "She's staying with her sick grandmother for a few days."
"What a bastard!" I pondered with a scowl. I had spent my entire life in France and had never even met my grandmother.
"I'll come back tomorrow for the girl..." This time, I recognized Gianni's voice. "I'm sure Don Vito will want proof that she's really a virgin. For your sake, she better be."
"She is!" Gaspar replied immediately.
"Let's go..." Gianni instructed the others.
Before my stepfather could come back upstairs, I ran into the bathroom and locked the door behind me.
"Come out, little rat!" he shouted. "I'll teach you a few things with that mouth of yours that Don Vito will appreciate."
Tears rolled down my face as I sat on the bathroom floor. Pressing a hand over my mouth, I tried to keep my sobs quiet. Somehow, I had to find a way out.
"Open this door, little rat!" he yelled. His fists slammed against the wood again and again.
____________________________
Don Vito Lucchese's POV:
The ice cubes shifted and clinked against the sides of my whiskey glass.
From where I sat, I looked out over the city below. The countless lights stretched into the distance, another reminder that all of it belonged to my territory.
For a brief second, my attention landed on the scar across my face. A moment later, my gaze dropped to the tattoos covering my forearms, hiding the marks left by cigarette burns.
"Boss!" Gianni called from outside the door.
"Damn it, just come in already," I said without looking back.
The door swung open. Gianni never made much noise when he entered a room. He simply appeared. That was one of the reasons he was among my most trusted enforcers.
"Old Gaspar finally gave in, boss," Gianni said as he set an envelope on the mahogany desk. "The debt will be paid with the virgin girl."
That virgin girl wasn't meant for the club. To me, she was an investment.
"Is she attractive?" I asked before taking another sip of whiskey.
"Take a look for yourself, sir."
Slowly, I turned around while Gianni walked toward me with a picture frame in his hand.
"Ricardo and Miguel have already seen her too," he added.
A faint smile appeared on my lips when I recognized the same girl who had stolen medicine from the pharmacy a few days earlier. In the photograph, she was standing in a lavender field beside an older woman who shared those same striking blue eyes.
"Does her mother know about this?" I asked as I glanced at Gianni from the corner of my eye.
"She passed away a few days ago," Gianni replied in a flat tone without adding anything else. "Like always, Gaspar was drunk and smelled like alcohol and filth."
"Did you bring the girl?" I asked.
After setting the picture frame on the desk, I took another drink of whiskey and waited for his answer.
"Gaspar told us she was staying with her sick grandmother," Gianni replied.
My eyes remained on the photograph lying on the desk. The virgin girl's eyes were a vivid shade of blue, as clear as the sky, standing out against her dark hair.
That kind of beauty was rare in this city. Unlike the girls working at the club, she wasn't hidden beneath layers of makeup. She looked innocent.
"I don't recall ever seeing this girl around the city," I said as I continued assessing the asset.
"She's from France."
"How old is she?" I asked, meeting Gianni's gaze.
"She turned eighteen not long ago."
I drained the rest of my whiskey, placed the glass on the desk, and gave my instructions.
"Go back to Gaspar's house and bring the virgin girl to me immediately."
"But she's staying with her grandmother!"
"Take Gaspar with you and make him show you exactly where that place is."
"Yes, boss!"
"Also, make sure everyone involved understands that the girl belongs to me. I won't tolerate anyone touching what's mine." The warning wasn't meant for Gianni. It was directed at the other scumbags working under me.
"Understood, boss."
I waved my hand, signaling that he could leave. Once he was gone, I looked back at the photograph, eager to be the first man to claim the virgin girl.
