The Old Bastard..

Amber's POV.

Shit. He wasn’t old like they said.

I didn’t just see his face—his hands were covered in tattoos, crawling up his skin like twisted stories.

Around him stood heavily scarred men dressed in black, each one silent and armed, their guns tucked close to their bodies. Tattoos snaked along their arms and necks too, marking them like a clan of shadows.

They didn’t flinch or move—not even blink. It was like they’d been trained to freeze in place, only reacting to a whistle… like beasts on command.

I stared hard through the blur of tears and fear. No wrinkles. No sagging skin. His hair was slicked back, black as ink. Maybe late thirties? Early forties? Definitely younger than my father.

But his presence—God—it felt heavier than age.

I felt his hand move again. Rough fingers brushed along my cheekbone, trailing slow down my face. I flinched, twisted my head, tried to shove him off with my shoulder.

His grip snapped back. Iron fingers gripped my jaw, holding me still like I was a misbehaving pet.

“Stubborn,” he growled low, like he liked the resistance but wanted to break it.

Then he stepped back. The tapping of his stick resumed as he turned, calm, calculating, and walked toward the huge chair at the center of the room. Like a damn throne.

He sat down without hesitation. Didn’t miss a beat. That stick wasn’t just a walking aid—it was part of his authority. Like he could hear every echo and measure distance with sound alone.

Then his voice cut through the air again. Cold.

“So…” he said slowly, almost bored. “Why is her face bruised… and she looks pale. Malnourished. Weak.”

His head tilted slightly. “I thought you said your youngest daughter was… healthy. With more flesh on her bones.” His tone turned sarcastic at the end, like he was mocking my father’s previous sales pitch.

I swallowed hard.

I didn’t dare look up, but I could feel my father freeze.

He opened his mouth. “Boss Zeden, I—I assure you, she is my youngest. She just—”

But before he could finish, one of the guards leaned down and whispered something into Zeden’s ear.

Zeden raised a hand. A simple gesture. Father shut his mouth immediately.

Silence.

Then Boss Zeden leaned slightly forward, his fingers moving subtly in the air, like he was counting something. His lips thinned.

“Antonio,” he said slowly. “The way you described your daughter to me when we first talked—your words… were very specific.”

He wasn’t yelling.

But every word was like a knife dragging across the floor.

“You said your youngest daughter was ripe. Obedient. Perfect for me.”

He paused.

“So why,” he said, standing slowly to his feet, “did you lie?”

Father panicked. I heard it in his breath. “Boss… she is the youngest. I swear on my life. She’s just… she’s not used to—”

“Enough!” Zeden shouted, suddenly slamming his foot into the ground with a loud thud. The entire room jumped.

My heart leapt into my throat.

He stood there, quiet again, as if nothing happened.

But I could see his fists clenched.

“I do not appreciate being deceived.”

His head turned slightly, dead center to where my father stood, even though those dead eyes saw nothing.

“Is this your youngest daughter, Skylar? The one you were meant to give me in exchange of what we discussed?” he asked slowly. “The one I asked for?”

The room went cold.

My blood froze.

Because that wasn’t my name.

I was Amber.

And I knew my father had just sold me under another identity.

I saw Father hesitate. Just a second. But that second was enough.

Zeden smirked.

“I don’t need eyes,” he said softly, “to smell betrayal.”

“I could smell your lies. Your panic. Your betrayal. And they sting.” Zeden’s voice cut through the air like a whip. “And you know what I do to traitors?” His head tilted slightly, his dead eyes narrowed. “They don’t live to repent for their sins.”

“No, Boss… please…” Father’s voice cracked. “I swear on my wife… she’s still at the hospital, in coma, you know that— I swear on her life, this girl is—”

I couldn’t take it.

“Stop it, Father!” I screamed, my voice breaking, hot tears blurring what little light made it through the blindfold. “Stop the madness! You’re lying with her name now? With your own wife’s name?! Just for money?!”

My voice trembled, but I couldn’t stop.

“She’s helpless… lying in that hospital bed… and you—You use her name like this? You're a monster, Father. A damn monster! And you’ll pay for this!”

I was breathing hard, like my chest couldn’t hold the anger anymore. My wrists ached from the ropes, digging into my skin, cutting deeper the more I struggled. My fingers were numb. But I wanted to be free. Just for a second. I wanted to land one solid blow to his face.

Just one.

But no miracle came. No help.

Only his rage.

He moved fast—too fast.

His hand came across my cheek, so loud, so sharp, the slap rang in my ears. My head jerked sideways. I tasted blood.

“You… abomination of a child!” he roared.

I coughed, my head still ringing, the taste of blood filling my mouth.

“I told you to be quiet, didn’t I?” he barked, towering over me now.

I tried to turn away, but he grabbed me by the neck, his fingers pressing hard, making it harder to breathe.

“Why did you have to talk?! Huh?! Why can’t you ever shut up when I tell you to?!”

My legs trembled. I couldn’t breathe properly.

Then Zeden’s voice thundered through the room again.

“If you need to kill her,” he said with ice in his tone, “then take her to your own house, Antonio. I don’t want any miserable blood on my floors.”

My father froze.

His grip loosened a little. Just a little.

Silence followed.

Even the guards stood still.

I couldn’t breathe right, but I was still kneeling, still upright. My face throbbed. My neck burned. But I was still alive.

Barely.

Zeden stood tall, still facing us.

He didn’t need eyes to command this room.

But my father? He wasn’t going to back down.

He never did. Not when money was on the line.

He walked toward Zeden again, this time slower—his pride gone, his shame thrown out like trash. And then, like a man with no spine, he dropped to his knees, clutching Zeden’s trousers like a beggar.

“Boss… please,” he stammered. “You must accept her. Nothing must go wrong with our deal… please…”

Zeden didn’t even flinch. His blind gaze stared ahead as if he could still see through him. He slowly bent down, his long fingers letting go of the stick as it clicked against the floor. His head tilted, ears twitching slightly like he was studying my father’s every twitch, every shallow breath.

“Why, Antonio?” Zeden’s voice was flat. Cold. Unreadable.

My father swallowed. I could hear it. Loud and desperate.

“She’s… um… she’s a virgin, Boss,” he said with a nervous laugh, like that would be enough. “You like them pure… clean… innocent. She is. You can… you can try her. And if she’s not—take my life. Take it, Boss. I swear.” His hand touched his neck, trembling.

Zeden’s lips twitched into a slow, devilish smile. It made my stomach turn.

“Okay then,” he said with a low growl. “I’ll take your word.”

I wanted to scream.

I wanted to vanish.

But I just knelt there, helpless, shaking with anger and dread as the room filled with that terrifying silence again.

“You should go home,” Zeden added, straightening up. “I’ll send a message to you in three days.”

“Thank you, Boss,” Father whispered, already on his feet. He didn’t even look at me. Not a single glance.

He walked to the door.

I stared at him, my heart breaking all over again. That man… the one who used to tuck me in at night when I had nightmares—he just sold me off like livestock.

But just as his hand touched the door, Zeden’s voice stopped him dead in his tracks.

“If you lied to me again…” Zeden said, voice dropping into a dangerous chill, “or if I find out anything you’ve just said isn’t true… I won’t just have your head, Antonio.”

He paused.

“I’ll take both yours and your daughter’s heads. Slowly.”

My father didn’t say a word.

He just left.

The sound of the door shutting echoed louder than everything else.

I blinked back tears. The ropes on my wrists burned. My face still throbbed from the slap. My throat was raw from screaming.

But I lifted my chin.

I turned toward where Zeden stood and let out a shaky breath.

“Please…” My voice cracked. “Please let me go. I don’t want to marry you. I didn’t choose this… Please let me go…”

Silence.

He didn’t answer. He didn’t move.

I waited… but all I could hear was the slow tapping of his stick as he walked past me.

I was still on the cold floor. Still tied. Still crying.

And still trapped in a nightmare I couldn’t wake up from.