Prisoner to Mr. Mafia (Book 1 In PTMM Series)

Chapter: 1

Gianna Pov~ 

I stood still, transfixed by the birds darting through the air, weaving intricate patterns from tree to tree. My gaze lowered, and a faint smile tugged at the corners of my lips as the soft blades of grass tickled my bare toes. The warmth of the sun enveloped me as I closed my eyes and tilted my head back, absorbing every precious ray. Eventually, I turned my attention to the sprawling forest before me.

The forest beckoned, a tempting realm of secrets and untamed freedom. For a fleeting moment, the notion of disappearing into its depths flirted with my thoughts. But reality snapped back as I eyed the two guards stationed beside me. Any glimmer of escape dissolved in their stern presence; they'd never allow a moment of relief.

"Ms. Gianna we must go back inside now. It's starting to get dark." Dimitry, one of my guards say from beside me.

I nodded reluctantly, stealing one last glance at the enigmatic woods before retracing my steps back towards the house. This was the script of my life – scripted by others, dictated by forces beyond my control. My name is Gianna Alexeev, a mere 18 years old, and my father, Roman Alexeev, commands an empire of shadows – the infamous Russian Mafia.

Yes, you heard it right, Mafia.

Arthur, at 26, carried an air of solitude as a single man; a new woman warming his bed every night, while 38-year-old Dimitry's company was anchored in the stories of his wife, a beacon of light in a shadowed world. Yet, here I was, and here they were, by my side.

Our steps echoed through the mansion's long corridors, leading us to the dining hall. Amidst senseless chatter, I caught sight of my brothers whispering conspiratorially. 23-year-old Alexander, the impending heir to our father's mantle, and Niccoli who is 22, and his steadfast second. As they see me, they abruptly stop whispering and smile, waiting for me to catch up to them. A sudden bear hug enveloped me as they squeezed me between their powerful frames. "Can't breathe," I wheezed, summoning a playful protest that landed on their solid arms, fruitless yet sincere. "We know." Alex says with a arrogant smirk on his face.

As we ambled toward the table, we began talking about nonsense. My guards took their places amongst my father's loyal men, and I nestled between Niccoli and my sister, Yana. The unwritten rules of the Russian Mafia held women's voices in check during meals, save for when spoken to. Yet, Yana defied such norms, whispering at me, a spark of rebellion concealed in her gaze. She was 17 years and is stubborn! She always disobeys father and mother, always having snarky comebacks and getting punishments for her actions.

A slap for speaking out of turn, two for disobedience, a belt for insubordination – Father's punishments, administered with an iron fist. Bruises were common, concealed as we navigated the mansion's dim corridors. Mother, a victim trapped in a cycle of abuse, wore her scars openly, unlike us. Submission was her survival strategy.

"Stop, your gonna get in trouble." I said barely audible.

"Gianna!" He screamed.

My body visibly froze and my stomach flipped. My eyes widened and my hands started sweating, I didn't dare move.

"Meet me in my office after dinner." He spat out, I looked up in his eyes and saw the coldness in his eyes. Sometimes I wondered if he had any emotions at all. I nodded once and he never stopped staring at me. I looked down and tried to eat. Yana was fidgeting next to me, and she gave me a look saying sorry with her eyes. I sighed lowly and pushed my food away.

This is my life. Every single day.

After dinner my father automatically grabbed my arm and dragged me out of my chair and up the stairs. Nobody said anything they just watched me go.