The Mafia's Hotchpotch [ A One Direction Fan fiction ]

Tied, Untied

*2MONTHS BEFORE*

"Michael?" Hank asked, "What are you doing here?"

"Well, I could ask you the same question," Michael answered.

"Norton invited me here, but what are you up to? Does father know anything about this?"

"I am fed up with everything, I just want someone to be with me; someone to whom I can count on."

"Michael, dad and I are always with you. You don't need anyone. And as far as a women is concerned, you know you can have so many-"

"I know! That's the point, I just don't want to have any woman, who pretends to care and be there for me, but in real they are all after my money and good refreshment anywhere. I don't want to keep checking their HIV or any venereal diseases' status. Promise me that you won't reveal anything about this to father," Michael argued.

"The only reason father does not want to have any little is that he does not want us to fall in love-"

"We are players, Hank. You don't need to worry about it."

"But Michael, what if your care develops into trust into love and then betrayal? What if she exposes us?" Hank queried.

"I've got this under control brother, I won't let her reach here," Michael confirmed while pointing to his heart and head symbolizing love and business. Hank knew that it was a waste to debate with Michael. He ended up by saying him 'goodbye, and good luck'. Michael smirked at Hank and went inside the auction hall. Hidden from Michael, after seeing him go inside, Alexandria called Aslam and Zaile. She got the order to immediately leave for their office before Hank could see her.

*after sometime, in the auction hall*

The host checked the mike and began, "Good morrow, my gentlemen! I am beatific of you all to attend our year 2014 auction week, day two, which is exceptionally special as it is held only once in three years."

Michael took a sip from his 'Sapphire Martini' and patiently waited for the auction to begun. He propped up his intertwined hands on his laps and attentively listened. He honestly did not like any girl. He was expecting something more from their appearance. He was well aware that all of them were used, appeared innocent but are only gold diggers. He wanted at least one to be sophisticated, innocent, obedient, young, mature physically, not yet mentally.

A girl appeared and it was announced that she was pure, Michael was immediately snapped out of his thoughts. The bidding began, "One million," one shouted, "Two millions," other shouted. Michael shouted, "Eleven millions." The bidding was going up higher and higher.

Zaire was seeing this from a camera set in a ventilator above and immediately called Aslam for action. Suddenly, before the words "One billion" erupted from Michael's lips, a chaos made its way in the hall. Michael's table was set at the back, on the left side of the door, near the entrance. A girl was violently thrown on the newly polished marble floor, beside Michael.

Quickly, sensing the heating up of the atmosphere, the host, Jordon sold the soul for eighty million bucks. Meanwhile, a mob of security guards and management team, after recognizing their customer, were around a man and the girl. The man's skin was a shade of smokey topaz tanned. He was tall, had a dense, black ducktail styled facial hair, and his voice was really loud and deep like an ocean for a blue whale to swim in. He was venting out his anger on the management team in God knows which language, while simultaneously beating up the girl at intervals.

Michael Aranda, even though tad bit interested, did not get off the chair. While tossing the girl from here to there like cherry tomatoes in a salad, she fell on the ground, right before Michael's black and caramel brown submerging shaded polished 'berluti' shoes. She got hit by his knee in the process. After a couple of seconds, she immediately looked up in his eyes with fear, her body was trembling in pain, tears cascading down her wounded and slapped cheek, eyes trying to camouflage away her torture and lips endeavouring to apologize in guilt. She was wearing a typical high school girl's clothes which consisted of a red-black-and-white checked blouse, a skirt which ended midway between her thighs, knee socks and black shoes.