BIANCA POV

“Fucking hell.”

“Go find a boy and stop doing that.” I smack my lips and glide another coat of red gloss. The shade is perfect, sinful and loud. My reflection winks back, an enchantress in the making.

“No, Bianca,” she calls from the bathroom, her voice muffled. “I’m not hooking up with some random guy and ending up in one of those secret baby or contract marriage disasters.”

I chuckle. “Oh, you’ve heard of those too? Honestly, it sounds better than being glued to a damn toy.”

The toilet flushes. She steps out, her face damp, her black hair clinging to her cheeks. “Trust me, I’d rather have a secret baby with a mafia boss than deal with an arrogant billionaire.”

“You and this mafia fantasy again.” I blow a kiss to the mirror. “Girl, get yourself a celebrity crush instead.”

She rolls her eyes. “A celebrity crush? You’re setting my standards underground.”

I turn to her with a grin. “Relax, I’m kidding.”

Her pout melts into a smile. “Good. Now, are we actually going to this party or just flirt with our reflections all night?”

“Both,” I smirk, grabbing my clutch. “But let’s start with the party.”

The club was chaos, music pounding, lights flashing like we were stuck inside a disco ball from hell. The air reeked of perfumes, and bad decisions, we're the bad decisions.

“Bianca!” Christie yelled over the bass, swaying with a drink in each hand. “This is insane.”

She handed me a shot before I could say no. I shrugged and gulped it, the liquid burning my throat.

“See? That’s my girl!” she cheered, throwing her hands up like she’d just saved the world.

We danced until our feet hurt, our bodies brushing against each other, the laughter mixing with the DJ’s remix of something I couldn’t even name. Christie was in her element, her hair turned messy, her lipstick smudged, her voice hoarse from screaming lyrics of songs she didn't even know.

I grabbed another shot and gulped it, it was the fifth or maybe sixth, I lost count.

“Bianca, I’m gonna find that cute bartender,” she giggled, wobbling toward the counter. “You go dance with someone hot.”

I snorted. “Right, because I totally want to hook up with a stranger named Kyle who smells like beer.”

She just waved her hand and disappeared into the crowd.

I danced a little longer, but my head started spinning, the club lights blurring my vision, my steps became wobbly. By midnight, the thrill had faded. Christie was nowhere to be found, and my phone was dying.

Screw it. I was done.

Outside the club, the air was cold and harsh against my flushed skin. I wrapped my arms around myself, my heels clacking against the sidewalk as I started the long walk home. My apartment wasn’t far, maybe fifteen minutes away. Easy, if you weren’t tipsy and trying not to trip over invisible cracks.

The street was quiet except for the distant hum of traffic and a stray cat darting across the road. I passed a narrow dark alley, the kind of place you only see in crime shows right before something awful happens.

I had barely taken a step when I heard a scream, a faint one but it was loud enough for me to hear.

My heart jumped. “What the hell?”

I stumbled back, my vision turned fuzzy, followed by a loud gunshot that echoed through the alley like thunder. I froze, my eyes wide.

A man dropped to the ground. Another stood over him, his arm raised, the gun still smoking from the previous shot.

“Holy shit.” My voice came in a whisper.

My instinct told me to run, but my body refused, was this the effect of the tequila. I stepped back and my heel caught a trash bin. It toppled, the metal clattering on the floor.

The shooter’s head snapped toward me, our eyes met. For one second, I swear my heart stopped.

Then I bolted, I ran like hell, my heels in hand, my breath ragged, the sound of my pulse louder than the gunshot itself. I didn’t stop until I was halfway home, my lungs burning, the walls closing in.

By the time I got inside my apartment, I slammed the door shut and pressed my back to it. My hands shook so bad I dropped my keys.

“Drunk,” I muttered. “You’re just drunk, you imagined it.”

But I hadn’t. I could still see the man’s lifeless body and the sound of the gunshots ringed in my ear.

Eventually, I stumbled into bed and passed out, praying it was just some twisted dream.

*******

The next morning I woke up with a heavy head, my mouth tasting bitter and everything ached.

“Christie,” I groaned, grabbing my pillow. “If you’re here, please bring me water and a new liver.”

There was no reply, I sat up and turned around, my head still aching. I saw a silhouette of three men staring at me, I blinked and rubbed my eyes, there were there.

The one in front looked tall with short brown hair, dark eyes, and a snake tattoo curling up his neck, his hands in his pocket. He looked like danger wrapped in expensive leather. Behind him were two brick-wall, they looked harsh with an athletic build, both were silent and armed.

My throat went dry. “Uh… am I still drunk, or did I just wake up in a mafia movie?”

The tattooed man smirked. “Good morning, Bianca.”

He knew my name, that wasn't good.

“Who the hell are you?” I snapped, clutching the sheet to my chest. “How did you get in here?”

He ignored the question, glancing around my room like he owned it. “Cute place, but small though.”

“Answer me!”

His gaze cut back to me, it sent chills down my spine. “I think you already know who I am.”

“No, actually, I don’t. And if you’re here to sell me a Bible, I’m not interested.”

He chuckled. “My name’s Vincenzo, Enzo Vitale, I'm being nice by introducing myself but I believe you saw something last night, didn’t you?”

My heart lurched. “Saw what?”

“The shooting.”

I blinked fast. “Shooting? Oh, wait, that? I thought it was a dream. You know, alcohol hallucination? Happens when you mix tequila and bad lighting.” I chuckle, staggering back.

“Don’t play dumb.” His voice dropped even though it sounds serious. “You saw something you shouldn't have.”

My pulse raced. “I didn’t, i just heard a sound and ran. I didn’t even see faces!”

He stepped closer, the smell of his cologne suffocating. “You saw enough.”

The room felt smaller with him in it. The other men didn’t move, neither did they blink.

I swallowed hard. “Look, if this is about last night, I didn’t tell anyone. I don’t even remember half of it.”

He studied me for a long second, then smiled, not kindly, but like a cat toying with a mouse.

“You’re lucky,” he said finally. “If you weren’t… useful, you’d already be dead.”

“Useful?” My voice cracked. “What does that even mean?”

He leaned down, his breath brushing my ear. “It means you’re going to help me. You’re mine now.”

I stared at him In disbelief. “Excuse me?"

He straightened, his eyes gleaming. “Marry me, Bianca. Or I’ll frame you for the murder you witnessed.”

BIANCA POV

“You’ve lost your damn mind.”

That’s the first thing that comes out of my mouth. My voice shakes a little, but I try to sound tough.

Vincenzo doesn’t even flinch. He just watches me, one of his eyebrow raised, looking like I’m a child throwing a tantrum.

“I’m not marrying anyone,” I say, pushing the blanket off me. “Especially not a stranger who breaks into my room and threatens me.”

His smile fades. “You have a sister, right. You won't want anything to happen to her.”

My stomach drops. “What?”

He steps closer, his tone calm, like he’s telling me what time it is. “ You have a sister her name is Nina, she's nineteen and right now she's in NYC. “

I felt chills run down my spine. “How do you..”

“I know everything about you, Bianca,” he says, cutting me off. “And if you say no, your sister will pay for it. ”

I stare at him, my mouth wide open but no words comes out. I couldn't let him do anything to Nina, our parents asked me to take care of her before they died. I sit still, my fingers twisting the bedsheet. Who was this man? What did he really want? Why me?

I looked into his eyes, they stared back at me showing no sign of remorse, this isn’t a joke, and I’m out of choices.

“Fine,” I whisper. “I’ll do it but don't touch my sister”

He nods once, satisfied, like he just won something. “Good girl, as long as you obey I won't touch her. You're mine now.” He turns and walks out. “Get dressed, we’re leaving.”

I didn’t move for a moment. I just sit there,my heart beating fast. Then I grab some jeans and a hoodie and follow him.

I walked out of my apartment, a black SUV with tinted windows was parked outside, it was spotless and expensive.

One of the guys opened the door

“Get in.” Enzo pockets his hand.

I hesitated. “Where are we going?”

He glanced at me. “You’ll see.”

I got inside the car feeling uneasy and nervous. The car smelled of leather and cologne, his cologne. The smell made me sick, the kind of smell that made your thoughts drift where they shouldn’t.

He sat beside me with his phone in hand scrolling through it completely relaxed while my heart was racing.

After twenty minutes, the car stopped in front of a fancy salon.

I frowned. “Seriously? You kidnapped me to get my hair done?”

He finally looked up from his phone, his tone smooth. “If you’re going to be my wife, you’ll look the part.”

“I didn’t agree to a makeover,” I said.

He smirked slightly. “You agreed to save your sister.”

I rolled my eyes but followed him inside. The place looked expensive, there were decorations and hairs of different kind, the kind of place I’d only seen on Instagram.

A woman rushed to greet him. “Mr. Vitale, welcome,” she said in a Italian accent. “What look are we creating today?”

He glanced at me, his eyes moving slowly from my head to my shoes. “Just do your job.”

The woman smiled eagerly and guided me to a chair.

As she started working on my hair, I stared at myself in the mirror. The brown bob I’d always liked turned pale, almost white. My reflection started changing before my eyes.

When she finished, I didn’t even recognize myself. My hair glowed in platinum blonde, soft waves curling around my face.

Enzo stood behind me, looking at me through the mirror. “Better,” he said simply.

“I look like a vintage Barbie,” I muttered.

He smirked. “You look like someone who belongs where she’s going.” He walked out and I followed, we entered the car again.

After a while, the car stopped again, this time in front of a massive mansion.

I couldn’t speak. The place was huge, with tall iron gates, fountains, and enough windows to fit ten of my apartments inside.

“You live here?” I asked quietly.

“For now,” he said, walking ahead.

Two guards stood at the entrance, one of them opened the doors as we entered. Everything inside was spotless, white marble floors, sparkling chandeliers, and paintings I’d only seen in magazines.

Before I could say anything, I heard a small voice.

“Enzo!”

A boy ran toward him, laughing. He looked about ten with dark brown hair, big hazel eyes, wearing a white shirt and shorts. He was cute, but there was something confident about him, like he already knew he was rich.

Enzo knelt to his level and hugged him. “Miguel,” he said, his tone softer now. “You’re supposed to be in class.”

“Finished early,” Miguel said with a grin. “Who’s that?”

Enzo turned to me. “This is Bianca. She’s… someone important.”

Miguel looked at me from head to toe, his nose slightly wrinkling. “She doesn’t look important.”

I forced a smile. “Hi, Miguel.”

He didn't reply, he just stared. Then Enzo’s phone buzzed, he checked the screen and frowned. “I have to take this.” He looked at me. “Stay here, don’t move.”

He walked away with his phone, speaking in low Italian.

Miguel was still watching me, his hands in his pockets, looking bored.

“So,” I said, trying to sound friendly, “you live here with Enzo?”

He nodded. “He’s my brother.”

“Oh, you’re his brother,” I said, surprised. “I thought you were…..never mind.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You thought I was what?”

“Nothing, forget it.” I forced a smile. “You like video games?”

He didn’t answer.

I sighed. “You’re a tough crowd, huh?”

He didn't reply, he just stared. “Listen, kid, I’m just trying to be nice.”

“You talk too much." He raised his hand and it landed on my cheeks.

I froze. “Did you just?” Something in me snapped. I grabbed his ear and twisted it gently but firmly. “You don’t hit people like that, got it?”

He yelped, squirming. “Let go!”

“Maybe next time you’ll learn some manners.”

He sniffed and ran off crying, holding his ear.

I sighed, rubbing my cheek. “Great, I just got slapped by a little boy.”

When I turned around, Enzo was standing there. He crossed the room, grabbed my wrist, and pulled me closer. “You're going to be punished for what you just did.”

BIANCA POV

“Wait… he slapped me first,” I murmured, trying to keep up as he dragged me down the hall. He yanked me inside and locked the door with a click that sounded like a verdict.

“What do you want to do?” I asked, stumbling back, wrapping my arms around myself.

He didn’t answer with words at first, a wicked smile formed at the end of his lips. “You’re going to be punished, so next time you won’t be faster than your shadow.”

“Faster… I was trying to teach the boy a lesson,” I said, voice small.

He shoved me forward until I hit the bed. “Stop it,” I cry.

“Every word you utter will be counted in drops of your sister’s blood.” His fingers tightened around my wrists, my eyes widened. I went mute, watching him like someone watching a storm, I couldn’t let Nina pay for my mistakes.

He flipped me onto my stomach and pressed me into the mattress. His hand pressed against the back of my neck, firm and unyielding, he used his other hand to drag my jeans down exposing my bare ass. “There are rules,” he whispers, close enough that I could feel the cold of his breath. “Rules you have to follow, do not touch Miguel. You’re here to be useful, not to punish him. I decide when punishment comes.” He slaps my ass.

I tried to wrench free but he squeezed my wrist harder. “You will stay with Miguel at all times. If you leave this room without permission, I will make sure you never walk the same way again.” The threat wasn’t loud, it didn’t need to be. Enzo never raised his voice, he speaks calmly even with that his voice sends chills down your spine. “You got that?" He spanks my ass again and again, I could feel the sting.

He loosened his hold enough for my breath to come ragged and shallow. “Every decision you make influences your sister’s life,” he repeated, his voice flat. He released my wrists but kept a hand on my shoulder, a permanent reminder that I was not free.

I lay there, my palms pressed to the sheet, the room full of his quiet menace. I had been dragged into his world, a world that felt like prison. His phone buzzed sharply at the corner of the bed. He reached for it, then pick the call and nodded. “The Don wants to see me,” he said.

He cut the call and his gaze met mine. “You are not allowed to leave this room till I return." Before I could respond, he was gone. The door clicked shut, leaving me in silence, my fingers dug into my arms, trying to steady myself.

Then i heard a small shuffle at the door, the door creaked open and Miguel peeked in with a cheeky grin on his face. “Hey,” he said, his voice teasing, “looks like I get the new babysitter all to myself.”

I swallowed hard. “I… I’m not here to…”

“Don’t talk,” he interrupted, hopping into the room. “Enzo said I’m supposed to behave, but I don’t care. You’re stuck here, so I might as well have some fun.” He bounced on his toes, his arms crossed. “I don’t like you, not one bit.”

I blinked, caught off guard by the bluntness. “You… don’t like me?” My voice shook.

“Nope,” he said, sticking out his chin proudly. “And you can’t make me. Enzo brought you, but I decide what I think. So far… I think you’re boring.”

I hugged myself, I felt like spanking his ass so much he starts crying. He was just a boy, small and harmless looking, but the confidence in his voice made my stomach twist. “ I don't like you either, Enzo brought me here to help. “

He laughed, then went quiet. “Help? Hah! I don’t need help. I don’t even know what help means.” He leaned against the wall, one leg bouncing, his dark eyes studying me like a tiny general. “If I don’t like you, Enzo might send you back where you came from. Or worse… maybe he’ll punish you himself.”

I roller my eyes, even a ten year old could wield his influence here, I had to be careful for the sake of my sister.

“I… I won’t make mistakes,” I whispered, more to steady myself than him.

Miguel smirked and wriggled his small shoulders. “We’ll see about that. You’ll have to earn my trust first.” He paused at the door, tilting his head with the mischievous cunning only a child could pull off. “And if I decide I don’t like you… don’t expect Enzo to save you.”

The door clicked shut, leaving me alone again. I pressed my palms to my face, my mind spinning.

What if he really hates me? I thought. Will Enzo punish me, or send me away?

Then a thought struck me. Maybe… maybe I can use him. If I can get him on my side, he could be my key to survival or my way out. What if I use Miguel as a pawn, will he be my key to freedom?