Blood and Billions: A Mafia Tale

Chapter One

~Isabella's POV~

It was just another regular evening, tainted by the sharp smell of alcohol and the constant clinking of poker chips. My stepfather, a man I had long stopped considering family, was deep in the grip of his addictions. He drowned his sorrows in booze and gambled away what little we had, leaving me to bear the consequences.

In the rundown apartment we shared, there was an unspoken understanding that this night would be like so many before it. As I approached the front door, the voices inside grew heated, and the sound of cards hitting the table echoed through the thin walls. But there was something off, a sense of unease that made my heart race.

As I opened the door, my heart sank at the chaotic scene before me. The room was dimly lit by a flickering overhead bulb, and it was in complete disarray. My stepfather, disheveled and reeking of alcohol, was engaged in a frantic argument with a group of menacing men.

"Where's the money, you good-for-nothing drunk?" one of them snarled, his voice harsh and angry.

"I'll get it, I promise," my stepfather slurred, his bloodshot eyes filled with desperation. "Just give me a little more time."

The tension in the room was so thick you could cut it with a knife. My heart pounded, and I knew I had to step in. "What's happening here?" I asked, my voice shaking.

The men turned their attention to me, their eyes sizing me up. In that moment, I realized that I had become part of my stepfather's reckless gamble.

"Who's this?" one of them jeered, his gaze piercing. "Your daughter, I assume?"

The word 'daughter' dripped with sarcasm if only they knew that to him, I was little more than a burden, a pawn in his troubled life. I nodded in silence, aware that I had been drawn into their dangerous game.

The man who had spoken earlier, his features etched with frustration, leaned in closer to my stepfather. "Time, you say? Time is something we don't have, old man."

The other men, their faces hardened by years of hard living, glanced at one another. I was keenly aware that my presence was like a spark in a room filled with volatile fumes, and I had no doubt that my stepfather's reckless wager had now involved me.

As if reading my mind, one of them locked eyes with me. He turned to his comrades, his voice low but dripping with sinister intent. "The girl," he said, his eyes never leaving me, "she's the only thing of worth here."

Fear gripped me, and my instincts screamed for my legs to move— to run. In a sudden surge of adrenaline, I took a step backward, my heart pounding in my chest as I considered making a break for the door.

But before I could even blink, another of the men had moved to block my path, "Where do you think you're going, sweetheart?" he sneered, his voice a menacing growl.

Trapped, I scanned the room for an escape route. I could make a break for the kitchen but I knew I wouldn’t be fast enough.

The man who had singled me out seemed to enjoy my desperation. He approached me slowly, a predatory glint in his eyes. "You see, dear, your stepfather here has run out of chances. And you... well, you're the last card we can play."

My stepfather's head hung low, his shame apparent and for the first time in my life, he shocked me as he muttered, "I'll get you the money, just give me a little more time. Don't involve her."

The man's tone grew colder, and he motioned to one of his companions, who seized my stepfather by the collar. "Time, old man, is something you've had plenty of. Now, we need something more... substantial."

My heart raced as the realization sank in – they weren't here to negotiate or to wait. They intended to seize whatever they could, and I was their target.

"Please, don't!" I begged, my voice quivering. "I have nothing to do with this. I'll get you the money, just don't hurt me."

The man who had taken hold of my stepfather tightened his grip, and a wicked grin played on his lips. "How touching," he sneered. "But we don't trust your promises, do we, old man?"

With a sudden, violent gesture, he shoved my stepfather away. The frail man stumbled and fell to the floor, his body wracked with pain.

The men's laughter filled the room, a cruel chorus of mockery. "You should've chosen your debts more wisely." the leader taunted.

The leader stepped closer to me, his grin sinister. My heart pounded in my chest, and the terror welled up within me, making my voice tremble as I cried out, "No! Please!"

But my plea was met with indifference. I made a desperate attempt to step back, suddenly , a strong hand clamped over my mouth, silencing my cries. Panic surged through me as I realized they were not going to let me go. With a muffled scream, I tried to fight back, but it was a hopeless struggle.

Struggling for breath, I felt something cold and damp cover my nose. It was a rag, and as I inhaled, a noxious, sweet smell assailed my senses. My vision blurred, and I was overcome by dizziness. I fought to stay conscious, but the world around me dissolved into darkness.

The last thing I heard before slipping into unconsciousness was the leader's harsh voice, his words etching a grim promise into my mind. "You have three days to get my money, or I will find ways to use her to make up the debt."

As the black veil of unconsciousness enveloped me, I knew— no one was coming to save me.

I awoke in a room, disoriented and groggy. My head throbbed with pain, and the memories of the terrifying ordeal rushed back. I could hear snippets of conversation outside the door. It was muffled and distant, but I strained to catch their words.

Determined to understand my situation, I pushed myself to my feet, stumbling in the darkness of the room. I made my way to the door and pressed my ear against it, listening intently.

The loudest was undoubtedly the voice of their leader, "We need to present all the money we owe him, or he will have us killed on the spot. We've run out of time."

I could almost feel the tension from behind the door as another voice spoke, filled with anxiety. "But where are we going to get that much money in such a short time?"

A frustrated voice chimed in, "We can't rely on our usual sources. We've exhausted them."

Desperation filled the atmosphere as a voice of urgency pleaded, "We could try a bigger deal, but it's risky. If it goes wrong, we're finished."

The fear floated in the air and even I could feel it. It was like a dark cloud that had settled over them all. Then, the silence was broken by two, ominous words: "The girl."

I trembled with dread, a sick feeling welling up in my gut. The leader's icy voice demanded, "What about the girl?"

A voice, filled with sinister intent, responded, "She will be of worth to him in his dealings.”

My world crumbled at those words, and the room seemed to close in around me. The heaviness in the air was suffocating. A deafening silence followed, and it felt as if the very atmosphere in the room had shifted. I could sense it, even though I was paralyzed with fear.

Then, a haunting voice cut through the oppressive silence, sending shivers down my spine. "Do you have my money?"

The words hung in the air, like a bone-chilling melody, and I knew whoever just entered was the man responsible for their fear.

"No," one of the debt collectors replied, their voice trembling, "but we have something even better."

Just then, the door burst open with a sudden, violent motion. Strong hands grabbed me, and I was pulled out of the room. As my eyes met his, I knew it was over.

My blood ran cold as I looked at him and the leader declared with a malicious smile, “A s*x slave for you, Nicholas Maddox.”