I took on a huge debt to save my fiancé’s family, turns out he’s the one who sent me to a mafia auction block. After my heart stopped for the fifth time, I’m slumped inside a dog cage, oil still slick on my skin, eyes blown out and empty. That’s when I hear them laughing outside the door. “This is rich. She really thinks she took on eighty million for Mr. Greco? That money’s his own damn cash.” “Boss was scared she was a gold digger. Set the whole thing up to see if she’d bleed for him. He thought she’d be washing dishes back here — had no clue she’s been strung up every night, passed around like a party favor.” The door swings open. The stink of blood hits them and they freeze, scrambling for their phones. So that’s it. The loan. The debt. The “selling myself to save him.” All of it — a stage play my fiancé paid for, just to test whether I’d bleed for him. Iron floods my throat. The world goes black. … When I come to, I’m wearing nothing but shredded rags barely covering me. Whip cuts everywhere, some deep enough to see meat. The iron door crashes open. A flashlight burns straight into my face. I don’t have the strength to lift a hand. I squint through swollen eyelids. And there he is. Matteo Greco. My fiancé. The man I bled eighty million for. The man who handed me to this place. His eyes hit my body — and freeze. Behind him, my best friend Vanessa slaps a hand over her mouth, faking horror like she’s rehearsed it. “Oh my God! Cora, what happened to you? Matteo only had you helping in the kitchen!” Her voice can’t hide the thrill underneath. Matteo walks closer. The reek of blood and whore-house oil hits him. He curls his lip. “Cora. I just wanted to test you. See if you’d suffer a little for me.” His voice is ice. “And what do you do? You throw yourself into a place like this. Selling yourself.” I look up at that perfect face. Something hot and the taste of blood floods my mouth. I turn my head and spit a mouthful of black blood, chunks of something inside it, right onto the toe of his shoe. Matteo jerks back two steps. “Don’t you dare play dead!” He stabs a finger at the marks on my body. “Look at yourself. Covered in this filthy oil like some cheap whore. I told you to suffer — I didn’t tell you to crawl under those old bastards!” I drag my mouth into something that might be a smile. “Matteo.” My voice is wrecked. Every word tears. “Is the show over?” “What did you say?” His face goes colder. I lift my head. The eyes that used to look at him with love are dead now. “I said. You make me sick.” His face turns to stone. Then his hand flies up — crack — and the slap snaps my head sideways into the iron bars. “You think I’m disgusting?” He’s shouting now. “You eat my money, you wear my name, and I’m not allowed to test you? You couldn’t hold a damn line. You made yourself this dirty!” Vanessa rushes in, grabbing his arm like she’s the voice of reason. “Matteo, don’t. Maybe she didn’t have a choice. Look at her — let’s just take her home.” Her gaze drifts over the bite marks on my inner thigh. She knows exactly where every one of them came from. A sick little flicker of pleasure crosses her eyes. Matteo inhales hard. Drags his glare across me one more time. “Get her out. Take her back. Let’s see if she’s still got the nerve to call herself my fiancée.” A bodyguard steps in and rips the cuffs off my wrists. The second the chain lets go, I collapse face-down into the pooled blood on the floor.
I’m dumped in the corner of his private jet, on the carpet, wrapped in a black robe one of his men threw at me. The cold is in my bones. My body convulses on its own. My teeth clack so hard I think they’ll crack. Matteo sits on the leather couch across from me, a glass of red wine in his hand. He watches me shake on the floor. For one second, something almost like guilt flickers in his eyes. The tip of his shoe nudges my shoulder. “Enough. Stop playing pitiful. You passed the test. Half-passed, anyway.” “You made yourself filthy, but at least you did it for me. When we land, you’ll get cleaned up. I’ll bring in the best doctors. The wedding goes ahead next month.” I don’t even flinch. Wedding. He throws me into hell, watches me get torn apart, then wants to put a ring on me. It’s so absurd I almost laugh. “What? Stunned by your good luck?” His brow knots when I don’t answer. He crouches down and reaches for my chin. I turn my face away. “Don’t touch me.” His hand freezes mid-air. His face drops like a stone. “Cora Lane. Don’t push me. You know what you are right now? A used-up piece of trash a hundred men have been through. I’m still willing to marry you. You should be grateful I haven’t tossed you in the river.” I open my eyes slowly. Meet his glare. The pity in it. The charity. “Matteo. You actually think if you snap your fingers, I’ll crawl back and lick your shoe?” “You—” He shoots up to his feet. Right on cue, Vanessa walks over with a glass of warm milk. She steps around me and hands the glass to Matteo. “Babe, don’t waste your breath. Her head’s not right yet.” She turns to me. Smiles. “Cora, sweetie. Matteo’s been so good to you. Where’s the gratitude? On those nights they had you strung up on the cross — didn’t you think of Matteo at all?” Matteo’s face goes white. His eyes come back to me, and this time there’s no hiding the revulsion. Vanessa pulls out her phone right on schedule. “Matteo… I didn’t want to show you this. I have a contact who works the block. He sent me something. I was going to delete it — I didn’t want to dirty your eyes. But the way she’s acting…” She lets it hang. Matteo snatches the phone out of her hand. Security footage. High definition. Me. Naked. Roped to a massive iron cross. Oil slicked over every inch of me, glittering under the lights. Below the stage, a dozen rich bastards screaming and tossing bets. Some of them howling like animals. A huge man climbs up holding an electric whip. He’s laughing as he brings it down across the inside of my thighs. Current rips through me. My body jackknifes. The sound I make doesn’t even sound like me. Then he puts his shoe on my face and makes me lick his shoe clean. It goes on. Smack. Matteo hurls the phone straight into my face. The screen shatters. Glass slices my forehead. Blood pours down instantly. “Cora!” His voice cracks — fury, and something worse, disgust so deep it’s almost grief. “You filthy bitch— you let those old bastards do that to you? You make me sick. You make me physically sick.” I lie there. Blood runs into my eyes. The world turns red. I look at his twisted face and find I don’t have a single word left to say.
The jet lands. They drag me straight to the Greco estate, down to the basement that never sees daylight. This is where Matteo used to keep his Rottweilers. The air still stinks of dogs. They chain my wrists and leave me face-down on the concrete. The iron door creaks open. “Tsk tsk. Still got that pride, huh?” Vanessa walks over and lifts my chin with the toe of her heels. “You wanna know why he locked you down here?” She crouches and leans in close to my ear, sweet poison in her voice. “Because you’re filthy. He’s scared you’ll give him something. Right now, every time he pictures you under those old men, he can’t even keep his food down.” I close my eyes. My breath is barely there. She doesn’t like that. Her eyes flash. She signals the guards behind her. “Teach her some manners.” Two of them yank me up by the arms. Vanessa pulls a small electric prod from her pocket. “Back at the auction block, they used one of these on you all the time, right? Let’s jog your memory.” She jams the prod straight into the raw, unhealed meat on my inner thigh. “AAAAAHH—!” I thought I was ready. I wasn’t. Everything goes white. My body convulses off the floor. The wound splits open. Blood soaks through what’s left of my clothes. She keeps clicking the button. Again. Again. Again. The world starts to dim. The door opens again. Matteo stands in the doorway, watching like it’s a movie. Vanessa pockets the prod instantly. The concerned-girlfriend face snaps back on. “Babe, you came down? It’s filthy down here.” Matteo walks straight to me. He has a folder in his hand. He drops it on my face. “Sign.” I force my eyes open. I can read the words. Voluntary Surrender of All Shares and Assets of Lane Holdings. Stapled behind it: Lifetime Servitude Contract. “You said you loved me, didn’t you?” His voice is ice. He’s looking down at me like I’m something on the bottom of his shoe. “You’re already ruined. So I’ll buy the rest of your life with that eighty million. You’ll be my slave. That’s the deal.” “Sign it, and I’ll bring the doctors. Don’t sign, and you rot down here.” I look at the folder. Something cracks inside me, and I start to laugh. It echoes off the basement. Thin. Awful. It doesn’t sound like me. It sets him off. “What the hell are you laughing at?” “I’m laughing…” I lift my head. I lock onto his eyes and I don’t let go. “I’m laughing because you’re never going to get what you want. Not from me. Not ever.” I pull together every scrap of strength I have left. And I spit a mouthful of blood right onto the contract. Matteo loses it. “Beat her! Beat her until she can’t move!” Vanessa’s eyes light up like Christmas. She waves the guards on. Boots come down on my ribs. My back. My face. Matteo just stands there. Watching. Cold. The fury of a man who’s never been told no. Somewhere in the haze, I make myself a promise. I’m going to live through this. And when I do, I’m going to bury every single one of them.
Watch👉 https://cps-front.novelix.live/app-api/ext/new/2026070242uZr101J6 🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “Novelix” app 🔍 search for “ni146643”, and watch the full series ✨! #Novelix
Leave a Reply