Mafia's African Rose

Broken

I hate how my life always takes drastic turns. It's been a week—a week of being locked up in this room, counting every second like a prisoner in my own skin. The moments I wasn't trapped here were spent in the company of that lunatic, who never missed an opportunity to touch me inappropriately. His wandering hands and vile smirks haunted me. I prayed constantly that he wouldn't try the unthinkable. I'd rather die.

"Alexio, please find me," I whispered, staring at the ceiling, my voice trembling with desperation. Every second in this place felt like I was losing a part of myself.

The sound of the door creaking open made me sit up instantly. A woman walked in—a stunning beauty with tanned skin and short, curly brown hair. I'd seen her around, fleetingly, in the brief moments I was allowed out. When I say I've seen her, I mean really seen her—kneeling in front of Sasha, servicing his twisted desires.

She didn't meet my eyes as she spoke. "Don Sasha wants you in his office. Now."

My brows furrowed, dread crawling up my spine. "Why?" I asked cautiously.

"Come with me," she said flatly, turning on her heel and walking out.

I hesitated, torn between resisting and following. Like I had a choice. With a shaky breath, I stood and followed her. She led me down a long corridor to a lavish room. Makeup stations lined the walls, racks of luxurious but revealing clothes stood in every corner, and mirrors reflected the faces of women—many of them applying makeup, while others lounged around as though indifferent to their surroundings.

The woman stopped abruptly, motioning toward a door. "In there. Shower. Now."

The bathroom was enormous, with glass walls enclosing the shower. Five women were already inside, chatting amongst themselves, their laughter echoing in the space. As I stepped in, the air felt thick with judgment.

"She's the one," one of the women muttered, her gaze slicing through me.

"So, this is the girl the boss has been obsessed with," another said, her tone dripping with disdain.

"At least he'll finally fuck her," someone else added, her voice laced with bitterness. "Maybe then our pussies can get a break from his fantasies about her."

My stomach turned violently. Is that why he sent for me? My knees wobbled, and bile rose in my throat. I couldn't breathe. The idea of him touching me like that made me feel sick.

Oh my God, Alexio, where are you?

I couldn't fall apart now. I had to think of something, anything.

The woman who brought me returned, leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed. "Hurry up," she snapped.

"Please," I blurted out, my voice trembling. "What does he want with me?"

"You ask too many questions," she said coldly, shoving a red dress into my arms. "Put this on."

I stared at the dress, the vibrant color mocking me.

I needed to stay calm. I needed to buy time. Maybe, just maybe, I could figure out a way out of this nightmare. Anything to delay whatever Sasha had planned.

With trembling hands, I slipped into the dress. It clung to me uncomfortably.

"Perfect," the woman said flatly, dragging me toward the door.

I walked behind her, my mind racing for an escape. I wouldn't let Sasha win. Alexio, wherever you are, please hurry.

ALEXIO POV

       "Fucking bastards," I muttered as I shoved my gun into my pants. This was all my fault. Devonte had been beaten to a pulp, but the idiot still wouldn't give me a name.