Sold To The Gang Leader

•A New Point Of View•

-Ethan's POV-

"Shit," I grumble as I just barely catch the girl. I study her fair features and I move the hair in her face. I have no such need for her, but she could be useful. Even though she fainted, it didn't seem like she was scared. "Luis, grab Dr. Wilson. Mark, take the girl," I have business in New York. Luis falters and adds, "Agreed sir. Who do you want to watch her when she wakes?" I point at him in return and I walk out the doors, snatching my jacket off the hook.

Being the oldest son, the heir to my father's company, I must ensure that I get what I want to any extent. "Daniel, take me to the airport. I need to be there by four o'clock sharp." My driver nods and starts the engine. I stare out the window at the mansion where my mother used to live. I close my eyes, sleep embracing me.

"Sir, we are here. I shall take care of your belongings," Daniel says, abruptly waking me. We arrived at the air field where my private jets reside. The runway was wet, the sign that it had rained. "I'll see you soon. Say hello to your family," I say to him and toss him a roll of 100's. He bows and returns to taking out the suitcases. I quick walk toward the jet, my pulse humming in my ears.

As I walk into the jet, an arm slithers around my neck. Julia, the penthouse whore. "Mr. Stone, can I be of service to you," she purrs, pushing her cleavage together in her tight red dress. I scoff, "Really Julia, isn't enough that you slept with almost every man I know?" She breaths down my neck, looking at me with anticipation. "Get off," I growl as I shove her to the side. She opens her mouth to stay something, but I glare at her, clearly I'm not in the mood. I sit down and put in my earbuds, waiting for the plane to take off. I refuse to fuck a whore.

My mind then drifts off the girl. What was her name again? Cara? She was quite beautiful but lean and weak. She is not of my interest. I wonder if I should kill her or train her. I am lacking in assassins, but if the girl escapes, she could be a problem. She almost reminds me of someone. It's so painfully clear but foggy. Suddenly I feel a tap on my shoulder, Sir? A drink?" I grimly look at the wine bottle, too tired to talk. She notices and pours me a glass.

After I finished the wine, I fall asleep once more. This time it takes me back to a painful memory. I'm ten years old in the mansion my mom lived in. Outside the sun was shining and the harmonic sound of birds filled the air. "Ethan my child, come here," my mother whispers, her arms inviting. I smile and embrace her, I love her so much. She smelled of jasmine, her kind face and wispy hair was etched into my mind.

I frown, I suddenly felt hungry. "Mother, please make me your special cake," I laugh, throwing my arms around her. She smiles, "Of course my son. Don't eat too much. Your father will be home soon." I nod my head and follow her to the kitchen. Inside, the counters were made of marble, the cupboards etched with wooden hearts, the colors of white and a light pink so peaceful. She began to make her cake, a chocolate cake that she always made for me.

However her cakes took much time and before I knew it, it was dark. "I wonder why your father isn't back yet," she wonders out loud. Mother began to frost the cake, her eyes twinkling. She loved baking, especially for me. While she was busily humming to herself and almost finishing the cake, I stared outside the window in the kitchen.

The crescent moon was peering down on me, almost looking sad. The sounds of crickets filled the night, soothing me and my mind. Rustle. What is that? Maybe it's a dog. I dismiss the thought. Then again. Rustle. I frown and peer into the dark night, hoping to the find the source of the sound. Crash. I whip around, whispering, "Mother What is going on?" Her face looked drained and pale. She grabbed my arm and hauled me upstairs. As she dragged me, I look behind once more to see that the beautiful kitchen window I was looking through was now broken.

An arm protruded from it, my heart began to hammer. Ba-bump. "Get in here," she whispers, clearly scared. She locks the door behind us and she waits. "Go into the closet and hide behind this secret door. They must never find you," she says, a tear trailing down her cheek. Ba-bump. She kisses me on the head and I am still dumbstruck. I am put into the little secret room and she shuts the door with a small smile. Ba-hump

I peer into the hole and I see my mother, who was arming herself with a knife, looking frightened and angry. The door is knocked down and I see three men enter the room. She advances and pounces toward them, her eyes a fury. Slashing the throat of one of them, she falls back. Again she parries and fights, but eventually she falls, a knife in her gut. "Search for the child," a low voice says. The sound of feet fade and the man who just spoke comes into view.

He kneels down and stares at my mother. "Hello Clarissa. You are quite the beauty like others said. Unfortunately your child will not be the successor. We will kill him. I'm sorry it had to end this way," the man sneers. I still cannot see his face. "You..will never find him Luka," she forces out, coughing out blood. Ba-bump. "Face it. It's over," the man sneers and looks directly at me.

I stumble backward and cover my mouth to keep myself from screaming. He walks over and throws open the closet door looking for the source of the sound. He searches around and I see his face. A long scar running down his right eye to his cheek. His long shaggy hair was messy and he was missing one finger. Frustrated that he couldn't find me, he turns toward my mother. She grimaced and glared at him. "The Aces want to give you their welcome," he whispers. Then he takes out of the holster, a gun. He takes off the safety and points it at her. She turns her head to make direct eye contact with me and gives me a small smile. Ba-bump

Then he pulls the trigger and I stifle my crying. I silently sat there as my mother's head softly went to the ground and gave one last breath before shuddering and was still. He walked out of the room and spoke as if he knew I was there, "Mark my words boy, I'll find you." I shudder awake. I stare at the New York scenery as it comes into view, my heart beating wildly. Ba-bump.