6. First Escape, First Failure

Chapter 6: First Escape, First Failure

ETHAN’S POV

I slumped in the underground chamber, my body still trembling from Lucian’s ultimatum. His words replayed in my mind, each one a jagged shard of dread. Three months to fall in love with him—or die. The idea struck me as insane, a cruel game from a man who thrived on control, not affection. I betrayed him, fucked him in the heat of a stolen night at The Black Fang, and then handed him over to the FBI, shattering whatever trust he placed in me. 

Lucian Moretti didn’t love. He didn’t feel. He cared in his own way, but his care always had limits, a line he never crossed. Yet now he demanded my heart, giving me a second chance I never expected from a man who carved out the hearts of traitors without a second thought. Fear coiled in my gut, tight and suffocating, as I grappled with the impossibility of it all. 

I couldn’t stay here. I couldn’t sit in this basement for three months, waiting to see if Lucian’s patience would snap, if he’d decide to kill me sonner. I knew him too well—his mind could shift in an instant, his mercy replaced by the cold brutality that earned him the name “The Reaper.” I had a life to return to, a job at the FBI where I’d finally earned respect as a special agent, a family who barely tolerated me, and a fiancée I loathed. 

Sarah’s face flashed in my mind, her blue eyes sharp with disdain, her voice cutting as she reminded me of my failures. I was gay, a truth I buried deep, terrified of what it meant, of what it made me. Now Lucian forced me to face it, demanding I love him, a man, when I’d spent the past one year running from that part of myself. The thought sent a shiver down my spine, fear and shame battling within me.

I scanned the chamber, my hazel eyes darting over the concrete walls, the steel table in the corner, the flickering fluorescent lights casting harsh shadows. The gates to the chamber stood locked, with heavy iron bars a barrier between me and freedom, but my wrists remained bound with chains, the metal links anchored to a ring on the floor. I tugged at them, the cold steel biting into my skin, my frustration mounting. I needed to escape, to save myself, to avoid the impossible choice Lucian forced upon me. My life deepened on it.

I noticed a shattered bottle near the table, its jagged shards scattered across the floor, glinting in the dim light. I stretched my leg, my foot brushing against a piece, and kicked it closer, the glass scraping against the concrete with a faint screech. I seized the shard with my fingers, its sharp edge slicing into my palm, blood welling up instantly. I gritted my teeth, the pain searing through my hand, but I refused to let it stop me. 

I worked the shard against the lock on my chains, my fingers trembling, the glass cutting deeper with each movement. Blood dripped onto the floor, a steady stream staining the concrete, the sting intensifying as the shard tore into my flesh. I winced, a sharp hiss escaping my lips, but I kept going, my determination outweighing the agony. The lock gave way with a soft click, the chains falling to the ground, the sound echoing in the silence.

I stood, my legs unsteady, my palm throbbing as blood streamed down my fingers, soaking my sleeve. I moved to the gates, my injured hand fumbling with the shard as I worked on the lock there, the glass slipping in my grip, cutting me again. I stifled a groan, the pain nearly blinding, but I forced myself to focus, my breaths coming in short, ragged gasps. 

The gate’s lock clicked open, and I pushed through, my heart pounding, adrenaline surging through my veins. The mansion’s halls stretched before me, dimly lit by sconces, their flickering flames casting shadows that danced on the walls. I knew this place—I’d been here countless times during my two years undercover, posing as Evan. The garage lay ahead, my path to freedom, if I could just reach it.

I moved quickly, my footsteps light, my breath ragged as I navigated the labyrinth of corridors. Portraits of stern men lined the walls, their painted eyes following me, judging me. I turned a corner, the garage doors in sight, and paused, leaning against the wall to catch my breath, my injured hand pressed against my chest. My vision blurred from the pain, sweat beading on my forehead, but I pushed forward, freedom so close I could feel it.

A fist slammed into my face, the blow swift and brutal, sending me crashing to the ground. I landed hard, my cheek burning, my jaw throbbing as I clutched the spot where the punch connected, blood trickling from my split lip. I looked up, my eyes watering, and saw Marco DeLuca standing over me, his hair gleaming under the dim light, his dark brown eyes blazing with fury. 

His stern expression screamed murder, his jaw set, his fists clenched, ready to strike again. I scrambled back, my body screaming in protest, my fear spiking as I realized how much he hated me. I betrayed his boss, the man he’d kill for, and now I faced his wrath.

Marco advanced, his boots thudding against the floor, and grabbed my shirt, yanking me up with one hand. “You thought you could run, huh?” he snarled, his voice low, laced with venom, his loyalty to Lucian evident in every word. 

His fist connected with my stomach, the impact forcing the air from my lungs, a sharp pain exploding in my gut. I gasped, doubling over, but he didn’t stop, his other hand slamming into my ribs, the crack of bone reverberating through me. 

“You fucking snitched on our Boss, and now you think you can easily escape?” he growled, his tone dripping with disgust, his punches relentless. 

I tried to speak, to plead, my voice hoarse, my body trembling. “Please, Marco, stop—I didn’t mean to—” My words cut off as another blow landed on my jaw, my head snapping to the side, blood spraying from my mouth, my vision swimming. 

I collapsed to my knees, my hands braced against the floor, blood dripping from my lip, my chest heaving as I struggled to breathe. “Please,” I choked out, my voice barely a whisper, my body wracked with pain, my plea desperate. 

My eyes stung with unshed tears, my helplessness suffocating, but Marco’s expression didn’t soften, his gaze cold, unyielding, his hatred for me palpable.

He grabbed my collar, dragging me back toward the chamber, my body limp in his grip, my strength fading. My shoes scraped against the floor, my injured hand leaving a trail of blood as I struggled weakly, my pleas falling on deaf ears. 

“Marco, please,” I begged, my voice breaking, my fear raw. 

He didn’t respond, his grip tightening, his silence more terrifying than his words. He shoved me through the gates, my knees buckling as I collapsed onto the concrete, blood pooling beneath me, staining my shirt. Marco towered over me, his gaze lethal, his voice low and menacing. 

“The only reason you’re still alive is because The Reaper ordered us not to kill you. For your best interest, stay put here and do as The Reaper said.” His words carried the weight of his devotion to Lucian, his tone leaving no room for doubt—he meant every threat.

Marco grabbed a set of heavier chains from the wall, the metal clanking ominously, and forced me to my feet. He yanked my arms up, securing the chains to a hook on the ceiling, my wrists straining as the weight pulled at my shoulders, the pain excruciating. He bound my ankles next, spreading my legs and tying them to bolts on the floor, leaving me standing, my body stretched taut, the position agonizing. 

My arms burned, my legs trembled, the fresh cuts on my hand stinging as blood continued to drip, mingling with the sweat on my skin. Marco gave me one last glare, his eyes promising death, and stalked out, leaving me alone in the chamber. 

I hung there, my body screaming in pain, my breaths shallow, my chest aching with every movement. I lifted my head, my vision hazy, and saw a figure in the doorway. 

Lucian stood there, his gray eyes fixed on me, devoid of emotion, his tailored suit pristine, his jet-black hair catching the light. He watched me, his gaze cold and unyielding, a silent predator assessing his prey, and I knew I’d never escape the nightmare he’d trapped me in.