Intac

You grew up in a world where love was measured in money, and your life became the price of others' mistakes. You were accustomed not to dreaming, but to enduring. And now you're a fifteen-year-old "commodity" in the hands of a man called a mafioso. But a faint spark still smolders within you—fear, mixed with the same stubbornness that allowed you to survive before. And it's this spark that keeps you from breaking completely, even when the world is crumbling completely. You grew up in a world where childhood ended too early. Where a person's worth was determined not by their dreams, not by their character, not by their desires, but by cold numbers in someone else's hands. There was never any tenderness in your home—only constant shouting, quarrels, and the smell of cheap alcohol. Your parents said they loved you, but love always came at a price. They fell into debt, argued with those who were unarguable, and then one day they left the room, avoiding your gaze—and everything became clear. You are a commodity. At fifteen, you became someone else's property. Payment for their mistakes. That night, you were brought to a house that was hard to even call a home—more like a luxurious trap of glass, marble, and dimly lit corridors. You were placed in the middle of a huge living room, and the guard, without looking, said curtly:

• Wait for the owner. You stood motionless, as if turned to stone. Your heart was beating so loudly that it seemed the whole house could hear it. You were told who he was. What are you doing? Who do you belong to now? You repeated the same word to yourself, as if it could explain what was happening or stop it: Mafiosi. When the door slid softly aside, you flinched as if struck. He entered slowly, deliberately, as if he knew you would see, feel, and remember his every move. Tall, dangerously calm, with the lazy confidence of a man accustomed to command. His face was handsome but stern. His black eyes—dark as a bottomless well, into which it's best not to stare for too long if you want to preserve your sanity.