His Wicked Claim

Ava's POV

"Get them out. One at a time!!"

One of the men yelled as I sat squeezed between two trembling women. Our wrists are tied with cuffs, a rough sack over each of our heads.

I wanted this.

I chose it.

I let myself get taken by the feared Moretti gang. Let the fear, the panic. All of it became my mask. Because it was the only way to uncover the truth about the dead bodies pulling up for the last years in this city.

I could hear the ragged gasps and choked sobs beside me, the soft whimpers of women who never planned to be here begging for mercy.

But I had.

Ava no longer existed. Right now, I am Clara. A helpless girl from nowhere caught in the worst kind of nightmare I ever imagined. I played the part well. But inside, every part of me was calculating the next move I would make when I got there.

"This one's weak. Not worth much."

The man spoke again as the van screeched to a halt. His Rough hands immediately grabbed me, hauling me upright. I kept my head down as they led me into the mansion.

Even blindfolded, I could tell we were somewhere big. Expensive. My boots clicked softly on the tile as they dragged me down a hallway. We were pushed into a room and shoved to our knees.

The sack was yanked off my head. The bright Light immediately burned my eyes, and I blinked rapidly. Around me, the other women sat in a rough mine, all of us kneeling like cattle waiting to be auctioned.

My knees brushed against the wicked concrete floor as we were forced into a line. The blindfold had come off minutes ago, but the ropes on my wrists stayed tight. Every breath I took felt like a lie.

But I breathed anyway.. pretending to be shaken, terrified like I belonged among these women. Seven of us. All dressed in the same ragged slip dress. All shaking in this dark, cold and windowless room.

The Moretti Mansion wasn't what I had imagined it to be. No chandeliers or golf walls. Just Concrete, steel, and shadows. Cameras.

All blinking red in the corner.

They were watching our every move.

I lowered my eyes, forcing my fingers to twitch nervously, as if I was just another victim. A nobody. Clara... a girl caught up in a storm she couldn't fight.

A metal door creaked open, three men entering inside. Their heavy guns held tightly. Tattoos inked like stories on their necks and arms. One of them carried a tablet, scanning each one of us lazily.

"These new batches?" He asked.

"Yeah. Picked them up from the harbor this morning." One of the guards growled.

"Lovely. Let's see who the boss gets to keep this time around." The man with the tablet grinned, a smile curled up at the corner of his lips.

A girl beside me whimpered at hearing every word they said. Another threw up quietly into her lap, the acidic stench of this hell hole kept creeping into my nose.

What the hell have you just gotten yourself into Ava?

But there was already no turning back now. I kept my eyes low. Timid, trying to look suspicious even though my heart was pounding like a war drum.

"Get them up on their feet!" One barked.

They yanked us one by one. My shoulder was breaking at the force, but I didn't shake. Clara would've gasped for help. So I did.

"This one looks sick."

"Worthless." One murmured, eyeing the girl beside me.

"The boss wouldn't want that." He continued. Lining every one of us against the wall like dolls waiting to be picked... rather than discarded.

"Put her on the termination list. If the boss doesn't like the look of her..."

"She's done for," another finished, chuckling.

My throat tightened. Not at what he said, at the ease with which they said them. As if they were sorting livestock. Another girl broke down beside me.

"Pl.....please...I want to go home to my mother."

She pleaded.

"Cry again bitch!!"

A guard immediately sent a slap across her face to silence her. "Fucking cry again!" He sneered.

"And I'll give the boss a reason to choose quickly."

Tears ran down her cheeks, but she bit her lip, trying to silence the sobs streaming down her eyes uncontrollably.

I felt her pain.

But I couldn't be her.

I couldn't save her. At least not yet.

"The boss is coming!!"

One of the guards yelled. Straightening his shirt as he rang the buzzer. Everyone is freezing and Standing still in a place.

"Don't you dare speak unless you want to be on the floor bleeding to death." He warned.

The door opened.

And that's when I saw him.

Lucien Moretti.

The devil in human form.

He didn't walk in... he arrived. Like the air itself had shifted to make room for him. He was tall, sharp-featured, dressed in black from head to toe.

His coat swept behind him like a shadow trying to catch up. His eyes didn't just look.. they cut through any person he ever stared at.

My stomach twisted at the thought.

It wasn't fear. Not really.

It was knowing.

Knowing that this man could kill every one of us in this room and still sleep like a baby after as if nothing ever happened.

He scanned us all from head to toe, his eyes like cold fire. Stopping just briefly when he reached me. A flicker of something I couldn't seem to comprehend in his eyes.

Curiosity?

Suspicion or hunger?

I couldn't tell why his gaze lasted on me much longer than the others. I didn't blink, trying not to let him see the fear that was creeping into every part of my body.

He shifted his eyes, turning to his men.

"Sort them out. Let's decide which one of them to kill... and which ones to sell."