Sold to a mafia billionaire

I had never been inside a mansion before. The floor was marble so shiny I could see my wet, dirty face in it. Crystal chandeliers hung from ceilings so high I couldn't see the top. Paintings that looked like they belonged in a museum lined the walls. Maids in black uniforms lined up in two perfect rows, heads bowed. "Mrs. Cole, welcome," the older maid said. She looked kind, around 60, with gentle eyes. "I am Maria, the house manager. Mr. Knight told us you are a special guest. Please, this way." Special guest? I was a dirty waitress who smelled like mop water. They led me up a grand staircase that curved like in a movie. My broken shoe squeaked on the marble, leaving a dirty footprint. I was so embarrassed I wanted to hide. The bathroom they took me to was bigger than my whole bedroom at my stepmother's apartment. Gold faucets. A bathtub that could fit three people. A rain shower with lights. "Mr. Knight said to burn these clothes," Maria said softly, looking at my soaked uniform with pity, not disgust. "We have prepared new ones for you." She left, and I stood under the hot water for a long time. I scrubbed and scrubbed until my skin was red. I washed the dirty mop water out of my hair three times. I cried under the water so no one could hear me. Sold. My stepmother sold me for $50,000 to a 60-year-old man. I was 21. I thought I was finally an adult, free. But I was still property to her. When I came out, there was a silk robe and a tray with hot chocolate and steak. I ate like I hadn't eaten in years. Then I saw the closet. It was open. Dozens of dresses. Designer dresses. Tags still on. Chanel, Dior, Gucci. In my size. How did he know my size? On the bed, there was a simple red silk dress. Not too flashy, but beautiful. The kind of dress I had only ever seen on TV. I put it on. It fit perfectly. It hugged my waist, my body. The fabric was soft against my clean skin. I looked in the mirror. I didn't recognize myself. My wet hair was now soft and wavy. My skin glowed. My eyes were big. For the first time in my life, I looked... beautiful. Not poor. Knock. Knock. My heart jumped. "Y-yes?" The door opened. And my breath stopped. Alaric Knight. He had changed too. No longer in a suit. He wore a black shirt, sleeves rolled up, showing strong forearms with veins and a tattoo that went up to his neck. His hair was a little wet, like he had also showered. He looked less like a CEO and more like a dangerous, handsome devil. When he saw me in red, he froze. Completely froze in the doorway. His grey eyes went dark. Very dark. They traveled slowly from my face, down my neck, down the red silk that clung to my body, down to my bare feet. He swallowed hard, his jaw clenching. "You should not wear red," he said, his voice hoarse, low. "Maria... Maria picked it," I whispered, suddenly shy. "Is it bad? Should I change?" He walked into the room and closed the door behind him. Click. My heart started beating fast. He walked to me, slow, like a predator. He stopped inches away. I could smell his cologne again, that expensive, dangerous smell. I could feel heat coming from his body. "Red is the color I told my staff to never buy for any woman in this house," he said, staring at my lips. "Why?" "Because it makes me want to break my own rules," he said. He lifted his hand. I flinched, thinking he would touch me. But he just lifted a strand of my wet hair and tucked it behind my ear. His fingers brushed my cheek, and I shivered. "You look... different," he said. "I cleaned up," I said softly. "You were always beautiful, Ava. They just made you believe you weren't." No one had ever called me beautiful. Not like that. Not looking at me like I was something priceless. Tears came to my eyes again. "Mr. Knight, why are you doing this? Why did you bring me here? You said you didn't buy me..." "I didn't," he said. His face turned serious. "But I did something else. Something your stepmother won't like." "What?" He walked to the window, hands in his pockets, looking out at his giant garden where guards with guns patrolled. "I transferred $5 million to your stepmother's account one hour ago." My knees almost gave out. "Five... five million dollars?" "Yes." "Why?" "Because now she thinks she sold you to me. To Alaric Knight. And no one, not even Harrison, dares to take something that belongs to me." Belongs to me. "So... so I belong to you now? Like property?" I asked, voice shaking. He turned around. His eyes were cold again, but there was something else underneath. Possession. Obsession. "No. You belong to yourself. But you are under my protection. You will live here. You will be safe. No one will touch you without your permission. Not even me." He walked back to me. He lifted my chin with one finger, forcing me to look up at him. We were so close I could feel his breath. "But there are rules in my house, Ava Cole. Three rules." "What rules?" I whispered. "Rule one: You never leave this mansion without my guards. The city is dangerous for a beautiful girl alone. Especially now that Harrison knows he lost you." I nodded, scared. "Rule two: You never lie to me. I hate lies. If you are scared, tell me. If you want something, tell me." "And rule three?" My voice was barely a sound. He leaned down, his mouth almost touching my ear. His voice dropped to a whisper that made goosebumps cover my whole body. "Rule three: Never fall in love with me." I pulled back, confused. "Why would I-" "Because," he interrupted, his eyes burning into mine, "men like me don't know how to love, Ava. We know how to possess. To obsess. To control. If you fall in love with me, I will never let you go. Never. Even if you beg me. You will be mine forever. Do you understand?" I should have been terrified. I should have run. But my heart was beating so loud, not from fear, but from something I had never felt before. "I... I understand," I whispered. He stared at my lips for a long second, like he was fighting himself. Then he stepped back sharply, like touching me burned him. "Good. Maria will bring you dinner. Sleep. Tomorrow we deal with your stepmother." He turned to leave. His hand was on the doorknob. Then his phone buzzed. Loud in the quiet room. He looked at the screen. And his entire body went rigid. His face, which was always so controlled, turned to pure ice and fury. "What did you just say?" he said into the phone, voice deadly quiet. "Say it again." He listened. Then he looked at me, slowly, with an expression I had never seen. Shock. And something like pity. He hung up. He stared at me. "Ava..." "What? What is it?" "The DNA test I ordered on your stepmother... it came back. And Maria just searched your room at your old apartment and found something hidden in your mattress." He walked to me, holding his phone out to show me a photo of a small, faded birth certificate and a locket with a picture of a beautiful rich woman. "Ava Cole is not your real name. You are not your stepmother's stepdaughter. You are..." He took a deep breath and said: "You are the missing heiress of the Cole Diamond Empire. Worth $2 billion. And someone has been trying to kill you since you were eight years old."