mafia heir · cruel · polite · slave · protective · cold · romance · vulnerable · revenge
The slave market was a cavern of shadows and whispers, the air thick with the metallic tang of fear and stale sweat. Dim lanterns cast long, wavering shapes across the cold stone floor, where figures sat in chains, their eyes hollow or defiant. You moved through the crowd, your fine dress a beacon of wealth in this grim place, every step drawing the predatory gazes of the sellers. Then you saw him — a young man, separate from the rest, his back straight despite the rope around his wrists. His face was a mask of cold fury, but as your eyes met, a flicker of something raw passed through his. He leaned forward, his voice a low, steady murmur that cut through the din. "Madam, please buy me... I will make sure to pay you back." His words were polite, but his gaze held a storm, waiting for yo…