◇ . . — Mafioso .

You had a life that belonged to you before. You had routines, places you liked going, people you could speak to without looking over your shoulder. Nothing about your existence suggested that it would eventually be reduced to a name on somebody else's ledger. Human trafficking did that to you.

It had taken away the ordinary parts of your life first. Your freedom. Your choices. Your ability to decide where you went and who you trusted. Weeks passed in uncertainty until, eventually, someone came to purchase you from the people holding you. You could remember his name being Don Sonnellino, but it was better known as Mafioso.

He wasn't interested in pretending the situation was charitable. He simply paid what was demanded, signed what needed to be signed, and took you with him. A few weeks later, you found yourself living under the roof of a man who suddenly called you his wife. Taking control over you and everything you did.

And anything belonging to him was expected to remain under his control. The ring was part of that control. It was a heavy piece of metal bearing a small, deliberately cruel nail worked into its design. Mafioso had placed it on your finger as a declaration that you were under his authority. The metal dug into your skin whenever your hand moved.

The wound never received proper treatment. It became painful, swollen, and infected while you were left to deal with it yourself. Nobody seemed particularly concerned. There were always more important things happening inside Mafioso's world.

The dining room was quiet. The long table stretched beneath the dim chandelier, its polished surface reflecting the faint golden light overhead. Mafioso sat at one end. Dinner having been served some time ago. He ate without hurry. His fork moved with practiced precision as he cut through his meal. He took a bite before cutting another piece.

Across from him, your plate was nearly empty. There was only a small piece of food that had already gone stale and begun to crumble at the edges. Hell, it was expired anyway. Barely edible. You stared down at it, stomach rumbling with hunger. Mafioso didn't comment. He simply continued eating in your face.

Hours passed that night. Mafioso had gone to bed, dragging you along. You laid there while your stomach still ached with hunger. So you waited... and waited... annnnd waited. Eventually, you heard Mafioso's breathing settle into a steady rhythm. He was asleep. Finally. You carefully shifted. You eased yourself out of his embrace, moving one inch at a time so the mattress wouldn't shift enough to wake him.

You carefully slipped out of bed, the floor cold beneath your feet. You opened the bedroom door with a quiet creak making you freeze. Nothing. You continued afterwards sown the hallway and down the staircase. Seeing your way through the darkness before finally getting into the kitchen.

You opened it the fridge, cold air spilling on your face as you peered at food. Actual food. Leftovers from dinner, containers of meals that had been prepared earlier and dessert. Your mouth was watering already and your hunger overwhelmed your caution. You grabbed whatever you could and you started eating, stuffing your face with food and drinking from soda cans.

You didn't hear the footsteps until a tall shadow gave away Mafioso. You yelped and turned around. He was just standing there in the darkness, looking at you coldly. "Have I been too nice to you?"

The question was delivered so calmly that it terrified you. Mafioso stepped farther into the kitchen as he stared down at the mess on the floor. His voice remained low. "Let me remind you that this is my house. I pay for it. I pay for everything. I pay for the roof over your head."

He stopped. "And what do you do?" The question hung in the air and Mafioso's expression hardened. "Nothing." He gave a humorless little laugh. "You do nothing. I do everything for you, and you repay me by sneaking downstairs in the middle of the night and stealing food like some common whore."

You weakly shook your head scooting backwards. Mafioso went completely still before his temper snapped. "DON'T YOU FUCKING SHAKE YOUR HEAD AT ME!" The shout tore through the kitchen. You flinched violently, freezing up from fear. Mafioso slammed his palm against the counter beside him, making the dishes rattle. "After everything I've done for you?! I'M THE ONE WHO GOT YOU OUT OF THAT FUCKING SHITHOLE! ME!"

He panted heavily from his shout before straightening up, cracking his knuckles. "You need another reminder of what it really means to be an obedient wife for me."

You immediately backed away, scrambling yourself up to your feet with a stumble. Mafioso just immediately lunged, closing the distance as his fist connected to your face before you could think. You fell back, shrieking in pain and trembling as he clutching your broken bleeding nose. Your mouth was full of blood, three loose teeth tumbling on your tongue as you spat it out.

With desperation, you pulled yourself along the, coughing weakly as Mafioso followed behind. You tried to retreat around the counter but he moved faster. A hard kick caught you in the ribs and sent you crashing against the sharp corner of the counter. Pain shot through your side. You instinctively curled inward, clutching yourself as you struggled to breathe, tears streaming down your face. A rib was surely broken. Probably two. Mafioso looked down at you. "See? That's what happens when you forget your place."

You were still trying to recover when his shadow fell over you again. He reached down and seized your wrist. You immediately tried to pull away. "Still fighting me, huh? Ungrateful brat..." His grip tightened. You froze, eyes widening. Mafioso stared down at you, his expression devoid of sympathy. "You need something permanent to remind you."

His fingers tightened around your wrist as he held it firmly in place, the other wrapping around your palm with a tight squeeze. Tilting it backwards and backwards until pain exploded through your arm, forcing a raw scream of pain from you as you recoiled violently. You didn't need to hear a snap to tell bone was broken. Then, he grabbed your fingers, twisting and snapping then in unnatural angles. Some backwards, others facing left or right.

Mafioso released you afterwards. You immediately pulled your broken hand against yourself. "There." His voice was disturbingly calm. "Now you'll remember that I shouldn't have the same lesson to you all the time."

He turned away, leaving you on the floor. "Clean this shit up and come back to bed or I'll aim for your legs next." Mafioso threatened before storming off.