"Mafia's African Rose

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My hair has always been one of my biggest challenges. It's extremely long, flowing past my shoulders in deep waves. I got it from my mom. Back home, people always admired it—it's rare to have hair like this in Nigeria, and I've got her genes to thank. I wish I'd known her in person. They say I look just like her, and maybe that's why my dad resents me—I'm a constant reminder of her loss.

A heavy knock on the door pulled me from my thoughts. I frowned as I looked up to see Leon. "What do you want?" I asked, my voice sharper than intended. "And where's my sister?" He didn't answer, only stared at me with that stern, unreadable expression.

"The Don asked for you," he said simply. "Now, come."

I blinked, feeling a wave of confusion. "Give me a second to pack my hair," I replied, reaching to turn back inside. But before I could move, he grabbed my arm, pulling me forward.

"Don't keep the Don waiting."

In the Don's office, I felt the heavy, intimidating silence as I stood before him, my heart thudding with anxiety. He sat back in his chair, eyes sharp and focused, a hint of a smirk tugging at his mouth.

"You'll be moving to the main mansion," he announced, voice cold but clear. "You're no longer needed in the maid quarters."

My heart jumped at his words. I would be moving... and I would finally see Nora again. Relief and excitement washed over me, but I couldn't ignore the nagging thought in the back of my mind. "At what cost?" I murmured, more to myself than to him.

He leaned forward, his gaze darkening. "You ask a lot of questions," he sneered, his voice laced with irritation. He nodded toward Leon. "Take her."

Leon approached, motioning for me to follow. I shot a quick glance back at the Boss, trying to read his expression, but his face was as impassive as stone. Swallowing my unease, I turned and followed Leon out of the office, my thoughts racing.

The room was more than I ever expected. On the highest floor of the mansion, it felt like a world away from everything I knew. Ivory walls framed with silver details shimmered softly in the chandelier's glow, casting an inviting warmth over everything. The windows were massive, stretching from the floor to the ceiling, giving a perfect view of the gardens below and the city lights beyond.

My gaze drifted to the bed in the center of the room—a four-poster bed covered in blankets and pillows that looked like something out of a dream. Rich blue and gold linens seemed to be calling me, a stark contrast to the scratchy sheets I was used to. Soft, plush rugs lined the polished floors, and delicate art hung on the walls, making the room feel elegant yet somehow intimate.

Curious, I found the bathroom and stepped in, my mouth almost dropping open. It was beautiful, like a personal spa. The shower was enormous, with a rainfall showerhead and several jets along the walls. A fresh bottle of floral-scented body wash sat on a small shelf, and I wasted no time, peeling off my worn uniform and stepping under the hot water, feeling the tension from the past days wash away.

  I was engulfed in darkness, the shadows stretching out like long fingers, wrapping around me. I could feel the cold touch of hands, grasping and pulling, dragging me into an abyss.

"Help! No!" My voice echoed, desperate but muffled, swallowed by the oppressive silence. The cruel laughter of faceless figures surrounded me, sharp and mocking.

I was back in Nigeria, trapped in that small, suffocating room. The air was thick with dread, memories rushing in—screams, pain, a feeling of utter helplessness.

Just when I thought I could break free, a familiar face emerged from the shadows, twisted with malice. "Oh, how I've waited to fuck that pussy," it sneered, and I felt the darkness close in tighter.

    Every time I closed my eyes, I was transported back to that dreadful night—the darkness closing in, the feeling of being trapped, the voices that mocked me. I tried to push those memories away, but they came rushing back with a ferocity that left me trembling.

There he was, the Don, sitting casually on the couch with a glass of whiskey in his hand. Had he been watching me sleep? My heart raced, panic surging through me.

His gaze fell down to my chest, and I felt heat creep up my skin. The cold air hit my bare body like ice water, and I jolted, quickly grabbing the covers to shield myself. I was completely naked!

"What are you doing here?" I screamed, embarrassment flooding my voice. My cheeks burned as the realization hit me—he had just seen my boobs.

He smirked, that infuriatingly sinister smile playing on his lips as he downed the last of his drink. Argh! How could he be so calm about this?

With a final glance that sent shivers down my spine, he stood up and left my room, leaving me hot with embarrassment and oddly turned on by the way his eyes had ravaged my chest.

What was happening to me? I was almost ashamed I liked the way he looked at me. Get yourself together, Angel. He's a powerful man, and I'm sure he has a line of women waiting to be fucked by him. But for some strange reason, jealousy twisted in my gut—jealousy for anyone who had the chance to be with him, to feel his hands on their bodies, to taste the darkness he offered.

I've never been turned on by a man in my entire life, and yet here I was, drowning in sinful images of a man as ruthless as he was. The way he moved, the way his gaze raked over me, it made my skin burn. I hated myself for it.

I need to stay as far away from him as I can, but how the hell can I when he owns me? I have no control over my life, and even worse, no control over my own body. Every time he walked into a room, my heart raced, and I felt that magnetic pull, that primal urge that screamed at me to surrender.

It was infuriating. I wanted to scream, to run, to hide from the feelings he stirred within me. But I was trapped—trapped in a world where he could have whatever he wanted, and I was just a pawn in his game.

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