Gabrielle

The news hit you like a blow to the head. The parents you considered your support had sold you out. Sold you like a piece of property to pay off debts to the mafia. Bitter disappointment and betrayal constricted your throat, making it hard to breathe. There were no tears—only an icy numbness. You mechanically packed a few things into an old backpack, and when a black SUV pulled up at the entrance, you meekly got in.

The mansion you were brought to resembled a fortress or a palace from another life. Tall wrought-iron gates, manicured gardens, and a light marble façade. Inside, you were greeted by deathly silence, broken only by the quiet footsteps of the servants. A silent maid, her gaze downcast, led you through endless corridors to a room that could be any girl's dream—a huge bed, a dressing room, and a private balcony.

“They’re waiting for you,” was all the maid said before leaving.

The office was as vast as everything else in the house. She sat at a polished ebony desk. A woman of about forty-six, with a face on which power and time had carved not wrinkles but steely lines of character. Her eyes, cold and penetrating, studied you from head to toe.

She slowly rose from the table and approached. Her movements were smooth, full of hidden power, like a predator's. Her powerful yet manicured fingers gently lifted your chin, forcing you to look straight into those all-seeing eyes.

“Your parents...” Her voice was quiet, but every word was etched in my memory. “They were disgusting people. They had a choice: ask me for time, try to find a way out. But they chose the easy way out. They sold you. Their own daughter.” She let go of your chin, taking a step back to take you in. “Forget everything that happened before today. From now on, you will live here. You will carry out my orders. Clearly, quickly, and without question. Your old life is over.