HIS PRETTY LITTLE PET

Her wrists burned where fingers were clamped down, holding her tightly and dragging her through the corridor as though she weighed nothing.

Stumbling, her heels slipped against the polished marble floors, causing the men behind her with guns to nudge her roughly by her shoulders.

“Keep moving,” a voice snapped behind her.

And so she kept moving.

Terrified as she was, she couldn't even scream; fear had locked her throat so tightly that she could barely manage to breathe.

The hands holding her dragged her through large doors, were everyone was waiting and were now watching her.

Men in dark suits turned their heads  almost at the same time, some staring at her openly, others with curiosity and ugly looks on their faces.

Hell, some even looked away from her quickly as if she was contagious.

... And seeing this, Elara lifted her chin.

It was the only thing she could do to stop the tears that were welling up in her eyes from falling.

She didn't know where her brother was, didn't know if he was alive, and now...

... She didn't know if at the end of this walk there'll be a bullet to her head or a knife between her ribs.

All she knew was that the Moretti Mafia does not forgive betrayal.

But maybe, she could plead her case?

Finally the men holding her dragged her off the corridor and into the main hall with stone pillars rising toward a high ceiling and light spilling down in split rays of light, illuminating a wide open floor and leaving her with nowhere to hide.

A shudder ran through her.

The air here smelled of smoke and polished wood, faint gunpowder and something metallic.

Trembling, her eyes darted about in fear, seeing several more men lined by the walls in perfect formation with guns at their side.

But that wasn't what was more scary, because at the far end of the hall, on the high seat, was a man in a black tailored apparel.

She gasped, fear locking her muscles so she stopped moving all together when she understood his position.

This man, she knew who he was; Don Alessandro Moretti, supreme Mafia Don of the Moretti Mafia family

Fear was racking through her now.

No one of lesser status in the Mafia family ever set their eyes on the Don unless for important matters or... punishment.

HE was known to be ruthless, merciless, a power incarnate and a walking disaster.

... And now she was being taken to him.

What had she done to deserve this?

He did not rise from his seat when she was dragged forward, and he did not shout either.

Instead he sat quietly in the high- backed chair of dark leather and carved wood, his  posture completely relaxed and his hands resting loosely as if he had all the time in the world.

His eyes fell on he then, and she stiffened.

“Bring her closer.”