Owned by the Billionaire Mafia King

Chapter 3 : Sold

Sara

Ivan wandered into the house, pausing in the foyer as he smiled at me. “Hello, Sara."

His smile was snide and yet filled with wit and cunning humor. He always enjoyed coming here. “What do you want, Ivan?"

He shrugged and moved into the living room before he slowly moved around the area, looking at the pictures on the side table near the couch. Ha paused for a minute and picked up one of the photographs in a wooden frame.

It was one of me and my dad from when I was much younger. I remembered that day vividly, how Dad had taken me to the beach and then for ice cream. We were both smiling in the picture my mother had taken when we got home.

It had been one of the best days of my life, one I would never forget, even though now, the fond memories I had of my dad were overshadowed by the mess he had become.

Ivan's voice jars me back to reality as he sets the photograph back down with a bang that almost shatters the glass. “Where's your dear ol' dad tonight, Sara?"

Of course, that's why he's here, but why now? Why so late at night? I swallowed hard, trying not to let them see how intimidated I was. These guys could really hurt me if they wanted to. “How should I know where he is?" I ask. “It's not like he asks my permission to do jackshit."

“Oh come on, don't act like that." Ivan lifted his hand and wiggled his finger back and forth at me, stepping closer.

I don't have time for this. I had to get to bed if I wanted any amount of sleep before work tomorrow. “Just tell me how much he owes you." I folded my arms across my chest and tried not to roll my eyes.

Ivan laughed out loud and it ended in a cackle. “Straight to business. That's something I always liked about you, little girl."

He's got to be kidding. “You don't like anyone Ivan, don't lie to me," I said to him, blowing out a hot breath

“Oh, come on, Sara. Don't be so angry. It's nothing personal." He shrugged and stepped even closer to me. I didn't like him in my personal space.

“I don't care whether you like me or not. I don't care for you much either." I glared at him, hoping he'd get the idea that I really just wanted him to f*ck off.

Ivan placed his hand over his heart and acted as though he had been shot in the chest. “Ouch. That hurts."

I ain't playing that game. Ivan liked to make light of his visits, pretending like it wasn't as serious as it actually was. If I didn't give him any of the money my dad owed him, he could have his goonies do a number on me. He hadn't ever had to do so with me, but that didn't mean that would last forever.

“Okay, okay. He owes a good twenty K, love," Ivan replied like it was pocket change to him.

“F*ckin' hell!" I blurted out. What the hell was my dad doing down there? If Ivan didn't kill Dad, I sure as hell would. “I don't have that kind of money, Ivan."

Ivan moved further across the room before he smirked and looked me up and down. “Well, that offer is still up on the table."

A shiver wracked my spine once more. There was no way in f*cking hell I was doing what he had once suggested to me when I was in a similar situation. Nope. No. “F*ck, no. You know I won't do anything like that. Dance–or sell myself."

“Fine. How about you give us one K? I'll take that for tonight and give you another week for one more and from there we can make a p*****t plan. As long as your dad doesn't dig himself into a deeper hole."

That was reasonable, but f*ck, I was going to need to take it out of my savings. “s**t, okay."

I moved down the hallway and entered my room, grabbing the envelopes on my desk. Wait, what was this? Why was the third envelope so light? I turned it over and opened it to find a small bundle of ones that equaled about twenty dollars.

“What the f*ck?" I asked to no one in particular.

“What is it, love?" Ivan had followed me into the room and was standing a few feet behind me.

There had been a good fifteen hundred in there earlier that day. I counted it every morning.

“I'm going to kill that bastard." I slammed the nearly empty envelope down on the desk, not caring that it also hurt my knuckles.

Dad seriously was going to f*cking die! How could he seriously go and do that s**t to me? Steal my f*cking money?

Out in the hallway, one of the thugs pulled out a phone that was buzzing and answered it, turning away. I threw the envelope down and turned to face Ivan. What was I supposed to do now?

The man with the phone turned back around and moved to his boss' side. “Sir?" He leaned down and whispered into his ear.

Ivan's brow raised and he whistled. “Oh, well now this is getting fun."

Heart racing, I swallowed. “What is it?" My voice was just above a whisper.

“Looks like you're coming with us, Sara. Sorry."

“Wait, what?" Heart pounding in my head, I raised my hands as his henchmen moved closer. “Wait, no–"

They closed in around me. Their large hands clamped down on my arms and refused to let me so much as wiggle a hand free. Their grips were painful, my skin pulled and rubbed raw as they manhandled me out of the house and tossed me into the back seat of the tinted-out SUV. My arm gave out, and I slammed my elbow down on the seat belt latch, pain reverberating up into my head. F*ck.

This was great. Just f*cking great.

“Sorry about this, love."

For some reason, I believed Ivan. He was an asshole, but he had some morals. At least for a mobster. But why the hell was I being dragged to god knows where?

“What's going on, Ivan?" I demanded, leaning up to shout at him where he now sat in the front seat.

“Your dad asked for you. Seems like he has already buried himself inside the hole." Ivan chuckled, and the sound irritated my last nerve.

“F*ck." I breathed out. This was a s**t show.

“Got that right." That just made him laugh more.

Fear was wracking my chest, but I held it down and cleared my throat.

“Did you at least lock the house up?" I asked, looking back the way we'd come over my shoulder as the car made its way down the street.

Ivan paused for a moment before laughing again. “Yes, I did. Here are your keys. Funny thing for you to be worrying about right now, kiddo.

He handed the keychain over and his hand lingered against mine for a brief moment. His face fell, and his lips pressed into a grim line.

“I really am sorry, Sara," he said with another shrug.

“What's gotten into you, Ivan? You're acting out of character." Even he wasn't usually this big off an ass.

This seemed to bring him around, and he laughed again, leaning back into his seat. “Am I? Well s**t, I had no idea I had those emotions."

“Right? I thought you were a mannequin. What are you doing, acting all caring now."

Ivan sighed and stared up at the ceiling. “I was hoping that it would never come to this. You know I actually do like you, love. You are strong, independent, determined. You bale out your deadbeat dad at every turn. I hope you know that if there was any other way to go about this, we'd honor it."

“F*ck, will you just tell me what it is?" I pleaded with him.

He looked out the window. “We're almost there."

It was silent within the SUV as I was taken across the city. I couldn't even be crude in demanding more information. Ivan had the upper hand here, and who knew what was at the other end of this drive? Anything could happen. This could be my last few minutes alive, for all I knew.

“Here we go." Ivan grunted as the SUV came to a halt and one of the henchmen got out to open Ivan's door for him.

I got out of the back seat and stared up at the establishment. It was one of the poker venues that Ivan ran. I had been outside it once picking up Dad after a night of gambling, but otherwise, I had never had to go inside before.

“It's okay. Don't be scared." He tried to give me a reassuring smile, but it looked creepy.

“I'm not." I gritted my teeth and seethed. I didn't want to be here. Not in this area of town.

“Okay." He chuckled softly before he urged me down a set of stairs that led to a basement.

The chaos of the slot machines drowned out the lull of the poker tables that lined the back of the venue. The men that wandered around the tables were dressed like the henchmen and individuals that looked like Ivan stood beside some of the tables joking or whispering in players' ears.

It wasn't a place that was as terrifying as I thought it would look, but the men that bent down had handguns hiding in their waistbands that peeked out of their trousers. Some of the henchmen grabbed another player at one of the tables and dragged him out kicking and screaming.

Dad came running over as soon as we entered the calmer area.

“Sara, thank goodness. Are you okay?" He searched me up and down with his eyes, looking for any sign of injury. My elbow was still killing me, but it wasn't bruised yet.

“I'm fine. What's going on, Dad?" I demanded

He shook his head, tears in his eyes. “I'm so sorry. I had no other choice. It was the only way."

Could I even believe that? He'd stooped so low already. “What? More than stealing my money?"

“I'm sorry. I couldn't help it. Why didn't you put it in the bank?" he asked me.

He was seriously blaming me for him taking what didn't belong to him? “Are you f*cking serious right now?"

It was obvious that Dad wasn't going to give me any answers. I turned to Ivan, expectantly.

“Ivan, what is going on?" I asked him.

He sighed, his eyes soft as he spoke. “Your dear ol' dad sold you."

No. “What?"

“He sold you off."

Was that even an option?

Could my father just sell me?

Through the pain in my lungs that twisted and cut off the oxygen, I made out the words, “To who?"

The voice came like a booming threat that echoed all around the room and bounced around into my entire body before falling to the pit of my stomach.

“Me."