I've been used to always obeying what papa's say
I began my life as a sex slave at the age of 11, losing my virginity alongside myself, papa paid a woman at the age of 16 to teach me how to seduce, and that was my 16th birthday gift.
Oh I forgot papa got me an opportunity to go school rather than being home-schooled at the age of 11 as my birthday gift.
Should I be happy I got the chance to go to school but I was wrong
Thankfully, I graduated a year ago. Though I was hardly ever in school, I studied hard despite my chaotic life and managed to earn good grades—not that anyone cared. It was the only thing I felt I had accomplished.
College wasn't an option. Papa wouldn't allow it. Maybe he was afraid I'd get too smart and try to run. But if I ever tried, he would hunt me down and kill me. Papa was a monster—broke, but well connected.
"Yes, Papa," I said quietly.
"Well, Lucifer Adrino Diavolo has bought you."
"What?"
"You've been officially sold. Or should I say, bought."
"How?"
"This isn't a one-night thing. He does whatever he wants with you. When he's tired of you, he'll leave you—and only then will you be free. But never think about coming back to my house. You'll be free—just as I'll be free from a useless piece of trash like you. I'm glad someone finally bought you."
It wasn't a choice. It wasn't even an option. It was a command I had no choice but to obey. I had to accept that I was unwanted and rejected by my own father.
I did the one last thing I was meant to do.
I said, "Okay, Papa."
"Good. Go pack your things. You're leaving this house tomorrow."
I didn't bother to ask if my buyer was young or old. I didn't care anymore. I prayed he was old—hopefully he'd die soon, so I could finally be free.
I only knew his name: Diavolo—Italian for devil.
So my master was the devil himself. Could my hell get any worse?
My dad was a fallen angel, and now my supposed master was the devil incarnate.
Here I was, caught in the deal of a lifetime. My destiny depended on it.
"Miss Meena,"
Iris, our house help, called softly from the doorway.
"Come in."
She rolled two suitcases behind her.
"Your father said I should deliver these to you."
"Thank you."
"No problem. Are you leaving?"
"Yes, I think so. I have a buyer."
"For good?"
"Mm... I guess so. He sold me and told me never to come back—even if my master discards me."
"Is he really letting you go?"
"Yes, Iris."
"Please explain."
"I have to serve my new master until he grows tired of me and kicks me out. Then I'll be free."
"Good gracious, Meena. May God be with you."
"I'll miss you, Iris."
"Same here, baby girl. But don't worry—I'm leaving too. I'm retiring and moving to Florida with my daughter."
"Aww, I guess we both need to start packing."
"Well, I'm done with that. I was busy making time before I retire. I even suggested to your dad that he should let you go. But I never imagined he'd sell you. That man is the devil himself."
"Let me help you with those, Meena!"
"Don't worry, Iris."
"I insist. I'm like your mother, aren't I?"
"Yes, you are."
"Then open the suitcase."
Forwarding the events
I was done packing. Leaving behind a man who was supposed to love me without limits—yet here I was, leaving with no emotions, no strings attached, like a used, expired product.
I had a lot to pack, especially clothes. Papa had always taken care of my wardrobe, buying me outfits so I could look presentable for his clients. I was used to sealing deals—either opening one or closing one.
Honestly, the only person I'd truly miss was Iris—my nanny and the one person closest to Mama. She had cared for me since I was six, loving me without conditions.
My only source of comfort and advice.
But still, I had to go. I was done. I would no longer obey Azazel—not anymore.
Just this last time.
Lights out.
A sleek BMW pulled up in front of Papa's house. That had to be my ride. Whoever I was dealing with was definitely rich.
Papa opened the door with no emotion in his eyes. Iris, on the other hand, was practically in tears—maybe missing me, but mostly praying to God that I'd be safe.
"Bye, Iris."
"Bye, Papa."
"Whatever you do, just don't disappoint me. Or I'll make you join your mother."
I stared at him, fighting back the tears that threatened to escape. I masked them with anger and regret—feelings I hadn't allowed myself in years.
"How dare he threaten me—and worst of all, bring up my mother, when he's the one who killed her."
The driver, silent until now, opened the car door for me.
"Thanks," I muttered, slipping inside.
Dean Lewis – Be Alright played softly as I settled into the seat, wrapping myself in the stillness of the moment.
"Umm, Miss Meena," the driver began hesitantly. "Mr. Diavolo will join you soon."
"Okay... but can I ask you something?" I said.
"Sure, Miss Meena."
"What is he like? I mean... his appearance and attitude?"
The driver hesitated. "I'm afraid I can't answer that. I'm not in a position to."
"Can you at least tell me if he's young or old?"
"No, I can't. But I can say this—he doesn't take any bullshit. 'No' is not an answer to him. He's very ambitious—when he wants something, he gets it."
"Thanks anyway."
Not that his words helped. If anything, they added to the fear I already had of this man.
I mean, imagine carrying the name Lucifer—what was I supposed to expect? A saint?
One thing I learned from Papa, though, was never to show anyone how much fear you carry inside. I'm strong on the outside, but only I know how much I break on the inside.
The ride ended after exactly two hours, seventeen minutes, and twenty-five seconds. I'd been awake the entire time—no way I was going to sleep and give this so-called devil the satisfaction of seeing me weak. No. I wouldn't—and I didn't.
"Ma'am, we're here," the driver announced.
"Thanks," I mumbled, stepping out.
The place was... dangerous, yet magnificent. It looked like the kind of mansion you only see in magazines or movies. Honestly, it was the most impressive home I'd ever seen.
No neighbors in sight. Located on the outskirts of town—escape was impossible. Noted.
Four well-built men carried my bags inside.
I glanced around the entrance. Six cameras were hidden so cleverly you'd never spot them—nestled among flowers on the gate, inside the mansion's nameplate, and two visible ones by the security post.
Impressive.
The security house was large, suggesting more cameras inside and possibly on the surrounding streets.
Four men guarded the gate, two stood by the mansion's front, four patrolled the grounds—I guessed another four were at the back, if there even was a back gate. Papa's friend must be part of some mafia or involved in something illegal.
Seventeen security guards in total. Tight, despite the isolated location.
So, escape wasn't an option. Not even a dream.
I'd have to build trust with my 'master'—whatever that meant. Luckily, obedience was something I was good at.
Just as I expected, the inside was glamorous but dark—very much a single man's style.
Then a young woman approached, introducing herself as Mia, about 21 years old. She claimed to be his maid, telling me my room was opposite Mr. Adrino's. Apparently, my master was too busy to welcome me personally.
Was I expecting less or more? Honestly, no. Just what I predicted.
I arrived in my room to find four ladies already unpacking my things.
That was fast.
"Oh, you didn't have to," I said.
"Welcome, Miss Meena," they chorused.
By now, they must have been informed I was coming. Good for them, I supposed.
I dropped my backpack and carried my toiletries to the bathroom—then froze.
The bathroom was huge, like something out of a five-star hotel. Shelves stocked with my usual soap, plus a dozen brands I'd never dreamed of trying.
Back in my room, I unpacked the few personal items I wanted out, placing them exactly where I wanted. Everything else stayed packed.
I pulled out my phone and texted Iris.
"Sono arrivato." (I've arrived.)
She replied almost immediately.
"Thank God. I left Azazel's house an hour ago. I'll be in Florida next week."
"Mi manchi." (I miss you.)
"Ti amo." (I love you.)
I sighed and dropped the phone beside me.
Here I am—alone in a world I don't understand.
Was I scared?
Not anymore.
That scared little girl who watched Mama die... she died too.
Right alongside Bella.
A few women exited my room, their faces painted with smiles. I wondered how they could smile in a place like this.
Just as I lay down, trying to breathe—
The door flung open.
A man stood there, framed by the light. His dark blue eyes met mine, his hair artfully tousled like it was done on purpose. His lips—God, they were so distractingly perfect.
Wait—
Why am I checking out the man who barged into my room without knocking?
Unless... he's the only one allowed to.
He smirked.
"Yeah, Anticonformista. I'm Lucifer Adrino Diavolo."
Did he just read my mind?
"I didn't," he said casually. "You just wear your thoughts on your face, Raven."
What's up with this guy?
"You're analyzing me," he added, stepping closer. "Judging by your expression, you think you can handle me. I admire that kind of audacity." He sat on the edge of my bed, completely at ease, like he owned the world—and me.
"Hai un aspetto migliore di persona." (You look better in person.)
"Dovrei essere felice per questo?" (Am I supposed to be happy about that?)
He chuckled.
"Oh, tu parli italiano. E scorre bene da quelle labbra piccanti." (Oh, you speak Italian. And it flows so well from those spicy lips.)
"Mi piace la tua grinta." (I like your feistiness.)
I said nothing.
"What are the rules?" I asked instead, voice flat.
He tilted his head. "As much as I enjoy your Italian, let's switch back to English. I want to hear how that obedience sounds."
"Okay," I replied.
He smiled. "I like you already. Obedient. Good. The rules are simple: obey, and you get rewarded. Misbehave..."
He paused.
"And you'll be punished."
"Noted."
"Don't talk back to me."
"Okay."
"Don't fall in love with me. For your own sake."
"Trust me. I won't."
"Call me Adrino. But in the bedroom—or whenever I decide—you'll call me Master."
"Okay, Adrino."
"Pick a safe word. Let me know later."
"Fine."
"No sexual contact or emotional intimacy with any other man."
"Understood."
He raised an eyebrow. "Anything else you want to ask?"
"When can I leave?"
He leaned back a little, studying me.
"Hm. That's not easy. But you'll leave when I say you're free. Depending on your behavior, you'll also walk out of here with a check for 1.5 million dollars."
I looked at him calmly. "How much did you buy me for?"
"One million dollars."
"Okay."
"Okay?" he repeated, surprised. "That's it?"
"Yes."
"You're not going to ask why I bought you?"
"Should I?" I asked dryly. "Isn't it for sex?"
Adrino smirked. "You've got no sense of humor. Sex wasn't the main reason. My mother's been on my neck about settling down, and your father owed me money. I needed a wife. He needed cash. So, we made a deal."
I gave a small shrug. "Makes sense."
He narrowed his eyes. "You're not... upset?"
"No one cares how I feel," I said. "So why waste the energy?"
"You're straightforward."
"The world is straightforward. Depends on how zigzag you decide to walk through it."
He smiled. "Okay, Maverick. My mother's name is Kate. My sister is Larisa. Best friend's Fred. Father's name is Christopher."
I nodded. "Okay."
"Anything I need to know about you?"
"No."
"At all?"
"No."
He stood. "Alright then. Rest. I'll see you tomorrow."
And just like that—
Blackout.