My Ex Traded Me to a Mafia Boss, But He's My Uncle!

New Year’s Eve. Brandon, my boyfriend of three years, invited me home to meet his parents.

At dinner, he drugged my wine.

“Skylar, the gangsters…they’ll chop my hands off if I don’t pay up. I had no way out! I had to give you to him.”

“Don’t blame me. Blame your luck. You look just like his crush.”

“It’s win-win. I pay my debts, you get a wealthy life.”

Drugged and dazed, I was delivered by his family to gates I knew too well. The home of my uncle, Victor Thorne.

Victor had always doted on Mom and me.

The year my father laid a hand on her, Victor had him shipped to a remote African mine before sunset.

I could barely imagine what Brandon was about to face…

The tranquilizer hadn’t fully worn off. I lay slumped in the backseat of the car, unable to lift even a finger.

The voices of Brandon, Frank, and Carol Miller reached me as a muffled drone, distant and indistinct.

Brandon and I had been together since college, straight through graduation. Ours was a stable relationship, one that had never faced any real turbulence.

Just before the holidays, he’d looked so sincere, saying he wanted to take me home to meet his parents, to talk about marriage.

Thinking I needed to make a good impression on his family, I’d spent days meticulously preparing.

I bought a new cashmere coat, got my hair done, and brought two expensive bottles of wine and a stack of gift boxes.

But after just half a glass of water Carol poured for me, my vision started to blur.

“Skylar, don’t blame me,” Brandon said, his face a mask of feigned grievance. “I was truly backed into a corner, with no way out.”

“Five million! How was I supposed to pay that back? They’ll really chop off my hands!”

I wanted to curse him, but my tongue wouldn’t obey, only choked, incoherent sounds escaped my throat.

“Don’t feel so wronged, either,” he continued to ramble. “Mr. Thorne’s place isn’t some bad situation. He just likes your type.”

“You’ll live a life of luxury with him, isn’t that better than being with me? I’m doing this for both of our sakes, a win-win, get it?”

Win-win? You win my ass.

The car sped through the darkness, the scenery outside the window a blur.

I struggled to focus my eyes, trying to make out our direction.

Until the car slowly decelerated, finally pulling up to a massive, intricately carved iron gate.

This place, this gate, this estate…

My heart leaped. My hazy mind felt like it had been doused with ice water, clearing slightly in an instant.

No way. It couldn’t be.

Brandon and his mom dragged me out of the car, one on each side, practically pulling me across the front lawn of the estate.

My cashmere coat was disheveled and torn, my heels were long gone.

Two straight-backed men stood by the door, watching us approach with expressionless faces.

“Gentlemen, please inform Mr. Thorne. We truly couldn’t raise the money, so we came up with a new way to settle the debt.”

Frank Miller bent at the waist, fawning over the men in black suits at the door.

“We’ve brought Mr. Thorne a New Year’s gift. He’s definitely going to like it.”

One of the men shined a flashlight beam across my face. The light stung my eyes, making me squint.

“Her?” His voice was flat.

“Yes, yes, exactly! My son’s girlfriend,” Carol quickly chimed in, forcefully pulling my face straight.

“See? Doesn’t she look exactly like the woman Mr. Thorne commemorates every year? We specifically found out about that.”

“And she’s a dancer, very graceful. She’ll be attentive to his needs!”

My stomach lurched.

The man was silent for a few seconds, then gestured to a subordinate nearby. “Go inform him.”

He turned back to us. “Whether it works out or not, I can’t say. Just come inside and wait.”

“Thank you, sir! Thank you!” Brandon nodded profusely, bowing repeatedly, as he dragged me towards the main house.

By the time I was pulled into the parlor on the first floor, my legs had given out. I collapsed onto the cold floor.

“Mr. Thorne is with a guest. Wait here,” the man said, then left.

As soon as the door closed, Brandon immediately crouched in front of me, a mix of anxiety and calculation on his face.

“Skylar, help me out, just this once.”

He grabbed my shoulders and shook me. “When Mr. Thorne comes, just say you came willingly.”

“Please, I won’t look down on you. I promise I’ll treat you well afterward!”

I stared at him, unable to make a sound.

“Don’t you dare stay silent!” Carol also leaned in, her nails digging into my arm.

“If the Millers go down, you won’t have it easy either! Brandon’s your boyfriend, you should help him!”

“Mom, don’t scare her,” Brandon faked a gentle reprimand, then turned back to me, softening his tone.

“Skylar, I know you’re angry, but I really have no choice. Five million! They’ll kill me…”

The tranquilizer was slowly wearing off.

I could feel my limbs regaining sensation, and my tongue could move again.

I took a deep breath, finally choking out a raspy sentence:

“Get lost. I won’t.”