Sold Bride Of The Mafia Lord

(Angela’s POV) I woke with a throbbing headache, only to find myself tied up in the back seat of my sister’s car. “Stop the car!” I yelled as my elder sister, Isabella Moraga, drove her black sports car down an unfamiliar path. “Oh, Angela! Do you think I would let Richard Henshaw choose you over me? You’re leaving this city and never coming back—not after I sell you off,” she snapped, her voice sharp as broken glass. “Isabella, you’ve got it all wrong. Richard and I aren’t secretly dating. He was only asking about you. Please, don’t do this,” I begged, crying as I struggled against the tight ropes around my ankles. That Saturday night, Isabella had invited me to join her wealthy boyfriend, Richard Henshaw, who was celebrating his twenty-fourth birthday at a club. I hesitated at the entrance, but Isabella gripped my hand and pulled me inside. I wore a long blue dress that swept past my knees and simple black shoes, while Isabella dazzled in a red dress and black high heels. Our parents had instructed Isabella to stay home with me while they traveled to Los Angeles for business. But I was anxious, knowing the mafia controlled all of Top Hills City. I didn’t want to be at the party, yet Isabella dragged me forward, introducing me to several of her male friends. I noticed Richard watching me as he sat like a king at his own celebration. His friends poured his drinks while strippers danced around the pole. I wanted to hide, to avoid the soft music pulsing through the club—but then I caught Richard’s gaze again, fixed on me instead of my sister. Isabella was twenty-one, tall and light-skinned with long blonde locks like mine. We resembled each other, though she was three years older. After staring so long that my skin crawled, Richard rose and approached me. He stood close, his masculine scent washing over me as he offered his drink. I declined. I glanced at Isabella, seeking permission to drink with her boyfriend, but her narrowed eyes warned me not to accept. Richard remained beside me, and I felt uneasy. Isabella was his girlfriend—shouldn’t he be with her? She loved him, knowing he was the mafia boss’s son, yet she couldn’t see that I would never betray her. When the party ended, Isabella rushed over and pulled me away from Richard. He didn’t stop us, only watched as she offered to take me home. She held a disposable cup and poured me a drink. “Here, Angela, have a quick sip, sis. You haven’t eaten since we arrived,” she said softly. I trusted my sister. She was right—I was thirsty. I took the cup and drank. The wine burned my throat, but to please her, I finished it. She smiled and turned to Richard. In a sweet voice, Isabella said, “Richard, I need to get Angela home.” “Alright. Thanks for coming—and for bringing her. She’s the best birthday gift to grace my presence,” Richard replied, his lips curling into a smirk as he stood dressed in black. “Huh. Okay. I’ll call you when I get home,” Isabella said before firmly clasping my arm and leading me out of the club. She guided me to her car, and soon everything went dark. I was a sheltered girl—my parents rarely took me out, hiding me from their mafia world while bringing Isabella to every event. After all, we were their only two children. At eighteen, I was a freshman at a private university; Isabella was a model and a sophomore. I never imagined my own sister would betray me. My vision blurred, and I fell asleep as soon as I entered her car. When I awoke, I was lying across the seat. My hands were bound with black rope, my lips taped shut, and my legs tied. I looked toward the driver and saw Isabella. “Stop the car!” I pleaded, but she didn’t respond. Only God knew where she was taking me. She sped along a road I’d never seen before. My fear solidified—she really was going to sell me. Our parents would be frantic. “Please, Isabella, don’t do this…” I cried, bound so tightly I couldn’t break free. There were no security checkpoints. It was late, darkness swallowing the area, the moonlight casting a diamond glow over us. Suddenly, the tires screeched to a halt, and my racing heart stilled. “Isabella, what are you doing? Let me go,” I begged, but she ignored me. Seated behind the wheel, she turned off the car and pulled out her phone. “Hello, Morgan,” she said sweetly. “I have a special present for you.” My heart hammered against my ribs. Who was Morgan? Who was she calling? “I’ll be there, Bella. I hope the present is as lovely as you say,” a man’s rough voice replied. Isabella glanced back at me lying on the seat and grinned. “You’ll see for yourself. Hurry—the Dark Realm Auction is tonight, and I don’t want to miss selling her before our parents find out.” Her manicured fingers tapped the steering wheel. “No, Isabella! I am not for sale!” I screamed, hoping her caller would hear. “Isabella, don’t do this! I’m your sister—why?” The line went quiet before the man replied, “I’ll be there. Hold tight.” The call ended, and Isabella still refused to look at me. “Why are you doing this? You’re the one who took me to Richard’s party! What crime did I commit?” I asked, my voice breaking. She scoffed. “You’ve always won Mom and Dad’s love more than I have. Same with Top Hills University—I wanted to go, but they refused. Yet when you mentioned it, they agreed instantly. You steal everything from me, even though I’m older. Men admire you. So why shouldn’t I sell you? You’re going to be a s*x slave for a mafia boss. Pretty girls like you are born to become whóres!” “What?” I gasped, staring at her smug face in disbelief. “Isabella, what are you talking about? You didn’t pass the admission exam for Top Hills. This has nothing to do with Mom and Dad. Please, let me go home… I don’t want to be a s*x slave,” I pleaded, knowing the man would arrive soon. Isabella ignored me. She unzipped her bag, pulled out a lipstick, and painted her lips blood-red. “Angela, you don’t need makeup to look good. You have everything,” she sneered, her voice thick with venom. “Big brẹasts, a sèxy shape, a pretty oval face.” She shook her head. “I can’t let you outshine me anymore. So just relax.” She smirked. “The auction starts at eight. Let’s see who buys you. Pray it isn’t an old man.” Her laughter was a cold blade in my chest. I knew begging was useless. Minutes later, footsteps approached. Through the window, I saw three men in black stride toward Isabella’s car. “Welcome, Morgan,” Isabella said, stepping out. “This is my younger sister—she’s become quite inconvenient.” The tall, slender man named Morgan ordered, “Inject her to calm her down.” “No! Don’t do this! Someone help!” I screamed, but my cries were swallowed by the night. As I struggled in the back seat, the door flew open. One of the men reached for me, injecting a dark substance into my arm, and everything faded again. When I awoke, the roar of a crowd echoed in my ears. My eyes fluttered open to a shocking sight: I was seated on a chair on a stage, facing a shadowy audience. Harsh white light beat down on me. Other women stood nearby, also bound. A host in black walked onto the stage as cheers thundered around me. My hands were tied behind the chair, my lips sealed with tape, my legs bound so I couldn’t run. I was displayed like merchandise, ready to be sold. “Attention, everyone! Welcome to tonight’s Dark Realm Auction. We have lovely ladies for you—starting with this beautiful young woman. Long hair, fair skin, a pretty oval face… and she’s a virgin. Starting bid: one million dollars!” the auctioneer announced. I froze, struggling against my restraints as tears blurred my vision. The crowd was dimly lit, shrouded in darkness except for the glaring stage lights. How could Isabella do this? I scanned the shadows, wondering where she was. “Five million dollars!” a man shouted. “Ten million!” called another. “Twenty million!” a voice declared, and the hall fell into tense silence. “Twenty million, going once?” the auctioneer called, scanning the room. “Fifty million!” another bid cut through the quiet. The hall went utterly still. Who would pay fifty million for me? I trembled on stage, terrified of my fate. “Fifty million, going once… twice… Sold!” The gavel slammed like a judge’s sentence. I fainted, overcome by the horror of being sold against my will. If I ever escape this nightmare, I swear I will have my revenge on Isabella.