Undressed By The Mafia God novel Chapter 17

Chapter 17: Ten Million Dollars

Her outfit—a scanty blue sequined two-piece—caught the dim amber lights and refracted them into shards that danced across the walls.

She lifted her chin, eyes scanning the crowd. Her lips were pressed tight.

Numbers flew from a million upwards, the bids climbing faster than his pulse. "Well, fuck!" Luca muttered under his breath. His hands itched. Every instinct he had told him to walk away, to calculate, to leave this absurd display for someone else.

This girl was supposed to be nothing to him. Someone with nothing to offer him. And yet...

His lips moved before his brain could even process the insanity. "Ten million dollars!" he growled the amount out.

The room fell silent for a heartbeat. Then came the groans of disappointment from the other men, their pride stung, their hands lowering in reluctant resignation.

"Ten million dollars! Going once!" the auctioneer barked.

"Going twice!" he added.

"Sold," the auctioneer finally cried, "to the gentleman at the back!"

The clink of the gavel reverberated through the room. Cheers, curses, and murmurs collided.

Luca stayed seated, hands clenched around the chair arms. The money he had just spent could have bought a shipment of drugs, a few more men, a small army but he hadn’t cared. He had bought her because he couldn’t let anyone else have her. Because leaving her there, even for a second, had been unbearable.

And yet, as he watched her standing tall, cuffed wrists gleaming under the stage lights, there was another war raging inside him. Anger. Awe. Desire.

She caught his gaze, a flash of recognition in her eyes, and he could have sworn he saw her smile in relief? He should have felt victory, triumph, control—but instead, he felt fear. Fear that by owning her, even in this twisted way, he had crossed a line he would never be able to uncross.

*****

Luca sat behind his desk, unmoving, unbreathing, while inside him everything clawed and collided. The transfer to Bastardi had gone through cleanly. Money had changed hands the way it always did in his world, numbers sliding from one empire to another without conscience or ceremony.

Marco had confirmed Valentina was safe. That part of the problem was solved.

And yet Luca felt no relief.

Because now there was this other problem. This girl problem. This Veronica problem. Sitting heavy in his chest.

What was he going to do with her?

A knock interrupted the spiral. Bastardi’s man escorted her in and Luca had to grip the arm of his chair to keep his expression neutral.

She stood there. Still dressed in that infuriating scrap of blue, sequins catching the low office light. Bare legs. Bare shoulders. Wrists no longer cuffed but held close to her body. Her earlier defiance had melted away, replaced with a fragile tension.

She would not look at him.

Good. If she did, he might lose the thin thread of control holding him upright.

"How stupid can you be?" Luca said.

"Excuse me?" Her head snapped up, eyes flashing on instinct alone. There she was. That spark. Even scared, she still bit.

"So you sacrifice yourself," Luca continued, "subjecting yourself to be bought by perverts who will break you, torture you, assault you, trade you, monetize you, pimp you." 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝙚𝔀𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝒐𝒎

"What?" Vee’s eyes flew to his face, wide and searching.

"I’m glad you were the one who what?" Luca pressed.

"Who... uh." Her lips quivered. The courage that had carried her through the auction, through the stage lights and the chanting men, faltered here, in this quiet room.

Luca stepped closer. He lifted his hand and cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing the edge of her jaw before his grip tightened just enough to remind her who was standing in front of her. His touch was cruel.

"You chose this," he said. "You walked into hell with your eyes open. This is what you chose. Accept it." His thumb pressed slightly harder. "Say it."

Her breath shook. Vee straightened her shoulders.

"I’m glad you were the one who bought me," she said clearly, holding his gaze even as her heart threatened to shatter. "Thank you."

He dropped his hand abruptly.

"Don’t thank me yet," he said, turning away to put distance between them and failing miserably.

She swallowed. "I owe you."

He let out a short laugh. "For someone who hates making deals with the devil so much, you somehow ask for an impressive number of favors."

(Check the comment for Veronica’s outfit.)